Today the folks at Weight Watchers gave me a little plastic star, a bit like a refrigerator magnet, but without the magnet, that said something about how I finally lost 75 pounds. I worked some 20 months to achieve this goal, and had actually achieved it some weeks ago, without anyone realizing that I was one medal short of glory. I was more impressed by
the high school age woman who achieved her "lifetime" goal (i.e., goal weight plus 6 weeks of maintenance). She had lost some 40+ pounds, which was a larger percentage weight loss than my own.
Today I fell in love with a synthesizer named Cygnus, which makes all sorts of interesting spacemusic sounds, but became estranged from my Mogue synthesizer, a Moog emulator, which I converted from listenable to screechy with three or four virtual knob flourishes that I cannot seem to undo for love or money.
I stopped by a Goodwill store, where one woman fit perfectly the "knows how to shop for vintage at a thrift store" role, as if we were all in some independent film in which she would no doubt be pretty in pink but disdaining the commercialization.
It was fun watching her treat the costume jewelry by the cash register as if it were a tiffany's jewelry counter, having the staff people pull things out for her to browse and enjoy. I think that living life with a little brio is not a bad thing.
I almost bought the Jehovah's witness book about the horrors of the theory of evolution, but settled instead on a mystery quartet, a five dollar Chinese 35 mm camera with a zoom lens, and a chapbook about how untold antique riches reside in my
attic.
I watched very little football, and felt very little sadness about missing it. I've got books going high and low, and work to do this week, and I'm doing all right.