According to today's measurements, we've seen progress. I received my periodic sniping from Laura-the-trainer today about my wanting to weigh myself once a week. Actually, come to think of it, I think I got a finger waggled at me. I haven't had that happen in a while.

Nevertheless, there's good news. While I'm still having issues with food aversions, I'm apparently managing to keep myself in the general range of my calorie and nutrient needs, because several of my measurements have dropped - enough to be statistically significant. (For those of my friends who have taken up the not-so-gentle checks to make sure that I'm remembering to eat, thank you. Your diligent peskiness is noted, appreciated, and seems to be working.)

You know you're in a bit of denial about whether or not your exercise regimen is working when the first thing you think is, "Well, could some of these measurement changes be because I'm in different clothing?"

It's hard to justify saying "I won't go into the gym today because I'm in pain," when you know that, at that very moment, one of your friends is in labor at a nearby hospital. It tends to put your pain in a bit of perspective. Suffice it to say, Friday morning, I grabbed my gym equipment, coaxed myself into a standing position, and got myself to the gym.I've had to learn a good bit about quadriceps since Thursday night's gym class. Laura had encouraged me to try it, saying that she thought I was ready for it, but I wasn't entirely sure. Since the first few weeks had gone so well, I agreed. Why not see if I could add in something new and interesting to my routine?

I've managed to heal up after last week's rather pitiable mishap with an extra Thursday night class; my quads have returned from union break and my hamstrings, while grumpy, have indicated a willingness to play along for the time being.

I have a couple of hours left to decide if I want to attend tonight's class or not; like last week, I'm not sure it's a good idea, but I know that the extra midsection work wouldn't kill me.There are apparently two types of exercisers: the gregarious, and the lone wolves. The gregarious ones flounder when pointed to machines, alone; without others to push them, they fall. The lone wolves like their headphones and their solitude, and would rather battle a set of weights one-on-one than figure out what kind of chatter would be best to get through a class.

I'm the latter.

Ok, gents, let's review! While the desperation of humanity is often palpable on the holiday this year known as Black Satur….er, Valentine's Day, just because a depth is there doesn't mean you should sink to it.

Personally, while I find it a smidgen admirable that someone could actually have the balls to metaphorically walk up to a random stranger and proposition for a threesome, I find it far more amusing and pathetic. Don't these people have friends they can call up and say, "Hey, we need to borrow you for a weekend of sex that would make your mother blush"? Surely they'd have a better success rate than contacting random net.chicks for the same favor?

One thing's for certain; they're better off asking their friends than they are asking me, because as we know, there's nothing that turns me on more than a poorly-capitalized request for sex from a perfect stranger.

While we're on the Moroccan theme tonight, here's another from the vast set of recipes that Jody sent me a couple of weeks ago - good for those of us who are trying to up our veggie counts by whatever means are necessary. He calls this his Moroccan version of "veggie delight."

I have to admit, I don't even know what "veggie delight" is. I'm somewhat afraid to ask. Asking questions like that always seems to get me in trouble...

"You are a source of wisdom and strength to those around you."

- fortune cookie with a twisted sense of humor

I'm not sure if all this is scaring me or if it's giving me hope, or if this sudden feeling is what it's like to recognize my own backbone for the first time in a couple of years.

Bravery is what other people have, that nebulous 'other' who are glimpsed on the street, in novels, from a nearly-blinked eye as they escape from view around the nearest grocery store corner. It's not a quality you see in yourself. Bravery is seen as an obstacle faced without fear, with an almost reckless disregard of calamity or consequence. Those of us who can't work up a full head of bravery have to settle for stubborn.

Luckily, most people have a tendency to mistake one for the other in the people they know.

Yet another from the Jody Vault, in his attempts to provide me more interesting ways to serve up the healthily-cooked poultry we seem to be consuming a bit of these days. (Reminds me. I need to do a Penzey's order soon. Mmmm, Penzey's...my personal crack dealer. Any of the locals want to go in on an order?)

1. My current read, Booth Tarkington's "The Magnificent Ambersons," is proving to be one of the most delightful literary exhibitions of schadenfreude I've ever had the pleasure to read. I'm about a third of the way through, and I know that the lead character is going to get everything he deserves: to wit, nothing at all.
2. While we'll miss Sex And The City, we'd like to note that the characters depicted in the show, despite protestations to the contrary, bear as much resemblance to the rest of humanity as a soap opera about mutant Prada-wearing cockroaches.