Confessions

186.6 lbs. yesterday and today.  PLATEAU BROKEN!  And new one established (God, I hope not)  The Red Sox lost yesterday and  today, the White Sox are in the process of beating the snot out of them.   I volunteer to do their losing for Boston this season. I am that dedicated a fan.

So, 6 day plateau broken and that was by reducing my water intake from a volume equivalent to half of Lake Superior (sans  whitefish and the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald) to 8 glasses. A friend who consumes a lot of water out of medical necessity explained the weight of water and the costs of retention. Ha! 2 more pounds and another decade mark down. I will not be denied.

When all the Rapture nonsense was getting attention, my first thought (and a selfish one it was) was “Oh, crap. I’m finally on the way to getting in shape and the world is going to end before I hit my goal weight. They don’t let fat people into heaven. That’s why Gluttony is one of the Big Seven.”  According to the latter day Oracle of Delphi (who must have been working from a lunar calendar. L’Chaim.), October 21, 2011 is when it all ends. God, that really screws up the timetable for getting to my goal weight. My second thought was, “Well, more cheese for me.”

One of the original little Asian ladies  from yoga class with the pile of designer accessories next to her mat told me I looked like I had lost a lot of weight! Yea! I almost hugged her, but she said her shoulders were bothering her. But, still…

I found it necessary to revisit the confessional.

“Bless Me, Father for I have sinned.”

“You again? Go away.”

“No, really, I need absolution.”

“You need to be Catholic to do this. Why aren’t you?”

“That whole transubstantiation thing. I don’t believe Welch’s grape juice and Pepperidge Farm bread becomes the blood and body of Christ. It’s a symbolic act.”

“Aw, Jeez…”

“What? Like you’ve got something better to do? You don’t exactly need reservations to get in here.”

“My head, I’m getting such a headache.”

“I happen to know you sit in there and do Sudoku most of the time.”

“I do not.”

“Right. It’s baseball season. You’re listening to the game in there.”

“Hey, can’t beat the reception in here.”

“Can we get to it?”

“Did you just stick a 20 through the screen?”

“It’s not a bribe if you give me a receipt. Bless me, Father…:

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, cut to the chase.”

“I cheated, Father.”

“What, another hot dog? Big whoop.”

“No, I cheated at yoga.”

“How the hell do you cheat at yoga?”

“Father! Language!”

“Just answer the question.”

“The teacher thinks I pulled off the vinyasa.”

“Is that like one of those mattress tags?”

“No, it’s a flowing series of poses to transition from one to another. You’re supposed to do a push up , then bend upward into a Up Dog.”

“And? I’m just dying from the suspense.”

“Leave the sarcasm to me, Father. I only went halfway down on the push up before I went to the Up Dog. She just saw me in the Upward Dog and congratulated me on my progress. I feel guilty.”

“Wait, so you only got halfway down on the pushup, then did the whatever?”

“Yes.”

“That’s acceptable. I used to watch Lillias! Yoga and You” on WGBH all the time. That’s not cheating.”

“But I’m not getting into the balance poses fully.”

“Well, you’re a top heavy klutz.”

“You want me to come through that screen, Father? I can take you.”

“Sorry. Lillias had a term for not fully getting into the balance poses. It’s called ‘modification.’ You do what you can. My God, that woman was limber.”

“Father!”

“Sorry. What else have you got?”

“I’ve had bad thoughts.”

“Impure thoughts, you mean? Lust?”

“Not really, Father, unless I’m watching “300”. No, I’m talking hateful thoughts.”

“HOME RUN, ANDRE ETHIER! SUCK ON IT, LINCECUM!”

“Father! Focus!”

“Hateful thoughts. I’m listening.”

“The people on their cell phones in the gym, the people wearing their funky gym clothes into the steam room…”

“I noticed your sneakers are minty fresh.”

“It’s an obsession, Father. No stinky feet. I just want to slap them all. And Axl Rose, Jillian Michaels and Ryan Reynolds.”

“Okay, Rose and Michaels, I get, but Ryan Reynolds?”

“I know. Something about him just bugs the shit out of me. “

“Really, is that all you have?”

“Well, there is one more thing…”

“How did I know?”

“I cheated with respect to food.”

“How?”

“At a Memorial Day party. I had a brownie.”

“Gluttony’s a sin, my child. One of the Big Seven. This is serious and you wasted it on a mere brownie?”

“Well, it was a special occasion, Father.  My birthday.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Get back, Loretta. Your birthday is June 1. Saturday was May 28. That was just plain cheating.”

“No, Father. This was not a mere brownie. This was a Mandicake brownie.”

“Oooh, the blondie?”

“Nonono, the dark chocolate…”

“Oh, yeah, you mean the one with the…”

“Yeah, and the…”

“Ah, I love those. How many did you scarf?”

“Just one, Father and I counted it in the food diary.”

“Anything else/”

“Two glasses of rose wine.”

“Odd combination.”

“I was channeling a couple of friends who couldn’t be at the party.”

“Ah hah! So it was your own act of communion, my child! You have not sinned!”

“What?”

“Loophole. Hey, I studied law before I entered the seminary.”

“No penance?”

“Just that Chair Pose in yoga. Hint to the wise: don’t eat Mexican before yoga class.”