Wiggin' Out 'Bout it Wednesday: Best buys of 2012

Ooh.. I can feel it now.. We're on Day 6 here of Frugal February and I'm getting eager to recklessly spend. I've had two spend-free days since February started (which, for me, really ain't bad), but the fact that those days didn't happen organically shows me that I was frittering away more money than I originally thought.

And, like any addict, once you take my source  away, I start daydreaming about what I'd do if I had it back. I don't even physically go near stores right now because the temptation is still too great. I still online window-shop (Windows-shop?) but, I'm proud to say, the only online transactions I've performed in the last week have been three returns. *pumps fist*

I'll go into my not-even-remotely-an-expert tips for clothes-buying tomorrow, but for today I'd like to sit and dream in the wonderland that is a world with disposable cash. My sister and I have made a concerted effort to start buying more "enduring" things, whether it be home decor, kitchen gear or clothing, and that effort resulted in 2012 being full of really lovely things. Now that I've owned some of these pieces for 6 months to a year, I thought I'd highlight some of the ones that have become staples for me. And none of this is sponsored - I'm not nearly popular enough for any of that.

1. Rare Specimen Earrings in Pyrite

I am in love with these beauties. I wear them almost every day and I love that each earring is a slightly different size and shape. Each pair of Rare Specimens earrings is unique and has a "raw" look to them which makes them kind of a cool conversation piece. I got my sister the quartz ones and she wears them all the time as well. I love the pyrite ones because they're not quite gold and not quite silver so they go with anything. She loves the quartz because clear isn't a colour so bam- always a go-to accessory.I  really can't say enough about these guys. The store appears to be empty right now but they're available in shops around North America.

2. Coach Tour Dress in Rouge

Full confession: I'm wearing this dress right now. I have a dinner thing to go to tonight but I also had a meeting this morning and this is one of those wonderful dresses that I can do both in and still feel like I'm wearing my pyjamas. Seriously, it is *that* comfortable. I wore it on Christmas, I wore it on Boxing Day - and not just because I'd forgotten to bring a change of clothes to my parents' house - I wear it on weekends and to the office. Admittedly, if I keep wearing it this often it will probably start to pill a bit (it's that kind of material) but for right now, it's lovely. I typically pair it with a thick belt, thicker leggings (I have enough junk in my trunk to host a rummage sale so it comes up a bit in the back on me) and knee-high boots but I've worn it with heels as well. It comes in a bunch of colours if red ain't your thing. However, I thought red wasn't my thing but it turns out? Red is kind of my thing. I got mega-into Modcloth this year and I'd say probably 70% of what I've bought have become wardrobe staples. And when I have needed to return something (or in the case of a recent "final sale" item that arrived defective), their customer service has been beyond. If their Canadian shipping was cheaper, I wouldn't be able to pay my mortgage.

3. Minnetonka "Kilty" Grey Suede Moccasins

I got these at DSW but Canadians can find them at Soft Moc (or a variety of other retailers, I'd imagine). I'd never owned a pair on Minnetonka's before, but I'd bought a pair of moccasins last year and OhMyGodILivedInThem. They've sort of become a "go into the scary basement only" pair of shoes due to a few too many poor decisions to wear them in the rain (the "common sense" part of brain is woefully underdeveloped) so I had to get them replaced. I wore these basically all summer and now they're sitting on the shoe rack in my office (where i hide 15 pairs of shoes from The Boy so he won't complain about how many shoes I have), taunting me, mocking me, moccasin-ing me. They're comfortable, not wearing out despite near constant wear, wide enough to allow for an insole or a hot summer foot swell (delightful!) and a cute change from ballet flats (and they "air out" better too, ladies). They make me ache for spring.

And for something non-clothing related, but something I love nonetheless:

The Boy bought me this for Christmas to put on our "art wall" and I think it's great. We both brought a lot of posters to the relationship when we moved in together but once you get to be a certain age it's hard to incorporate posters into an aesthetic (except for our Lady Gaga poster - paws up, monsters). I read the Hunger Games Trilogy to The Boy in 2010/2011 and we saw the movie together, too. My fondness for the story became our fondness for the story and Katniss definitely now holds a place in both our hearts. We're like her Peeta. Or her Gale. I'm not choosing sides here - one love.

So what do you get the grownup nerd who likes young adult fiction? You get them this. I love this artist's portfolio - she does incredible work, often based around videogames- and I love how this print illustrates our affection for this book without actually being, y'know, a picture of The Hunger Games movie poster ou quelconque. I also love her Bioshock luggage tag. Frankly, I could quite happily hand over most of my paycheque to her and not feel badly.

Did I buy a heck of a lot more this year? Natch. But many things were either "found" (and I feel like a tool saying "here's something awesome- I can't imagine where *you'd* buy it though") or repetitive (my Modcloth bills, let me show them to you). But these are a few of the things that I've been happiest with.

Now back to dreaming while eating a homemade muffin. Sigh.

Self-schadenfreude or The Love of Spoiling Nice Things

Ugh. You guys.

I'm thinking a lot today about spoiling yourself.

No, this isn't some pre-Valentine's Day advice column all about lavender bubbles and day spa facials, I mean actually spoiling things for yourself. I am a habitual self-spoiler, and I hate it.

I love short stories. I think they're a wonderful challenge for a writer - create these little worlds and then close them off just as they've barely begun. Done right, they have great impact. Done poorly, at least they're over soon. These little "peanut stories" - pieces of prose that you can take in and digest rapidly, without stopping, are perfect for a short attention span like my own. When I was 13 my middle-school class did a unit (hee. did a unit.) on short stories for English class. There were some really choice pieces in there that remain favourites to this day - de Maupassant's The Necklace, Connell's The Most Dangerous Game and, one of the best, Saki's The Interlopers. Our teacher read the story to us aloud, with the photocopied printout of it face-down on our desks. "Do not look at the last line," he warned, "I'll tell you when you can read it."

This was as close to institutionalized torture as I've ever gotten. I was a wreck. Sweating, fidgeting - all I had to do was look down at that page, easily transpose the letters of that last line and then - bam! Suffering ended, secret knowledge acquired. I remember furtively trying to focus on his words, placing both my arms over the paper in an attempt to quell my curiousity; but it was no use. Halfway through the story I relented and snuck a peek. Of course, the meaning of the line made no sense to me, but as the story reached its climax I figured out the ending. And my heart dropped as my teacher told all the other well-behaved rules-following kids in the class to turn over their papers, envying the gasps of surprise and groans of recognition that the ending elicited. I had no one to blame but myself. Even now, if I'm reading a book and I can tell the author is gearing up for a big reveal I have to physically put my hand over the page and read the story line by line or else my eye automatically wanders to the end of the sentence, letting me know the big secret before my eyes have taken in all the leading details. I hate it. And yet, the spoiling, she continues.

Technology has only made this worse. The Boy is kind of obsessive when it comes to watching shows on DVD. He loathes commercials so he buys series on DVD. Which is fine and fun - it allows us to plow through half a season of Community or Modern Family or, in the case of most British programs, the entire series, in an afternoon. The only issue is, by the time a show's come out on DVD, it's already been discussed ad infinitum on television, in magazines, online, etc. I can ignore most media but online spoilers are a different matter.

Take Mad Men for example. I bought the first two seasons on a whim from Amazon's Black Friday sale. We liked them a lot so we bought the next two. Then, because Season 5 cost a mint, we decided to wait to buy it. Huge mistake. Every Google search for an actor's name or Jon Hamm's package (which, okay, I search for more than I should), offered up a new spoiler, often just in the Google bar alone (damn you, predictive search!). We just recently relented, buying the 5th season but I already know a few of the biggest plot discoveries. And I hate myself for it. But if you think "just don't look" is an option for me, well you probably didn't even read this whole entry, did you? You just skipped ahead.

We're kindred spirits you and I.

So now we're watching Downton Abbey and we're completely obsessed with it. We bought the 3rd season as soon it was released here. If you're a fan of the show then you know that something big happened this week. Or, it must have, because people cannot shut their gobs about it. I can't even type a character's name into Google without having half their storyline revealed. I'm going crazy with the effort to remain pristine here. As a result, I'm barrelling through this season faster than ever, trying to out-run the spoilers and not allowing myself the time to savour the series like a fine port.

I guesss I have a love-hate relationship with spoilers. I love the feeling of being shocked whether by a reality tv show twist or a murder mystery. But knowing what's going to happen means I have time to examine the storyline for foreshadowing and motive and I don't feel too abandoned and shocked when a character suddenly dies or disappears (plus I can lord my secret knowledge over The Boy which is faboo). And, after all, a big part of me is still made up of that fidgety 8th grader, sneaking a peek at that upside-down sheet, desperate to know how it all turns out.

But seriously, no one tell me about Downton. I got me a pizza date with the dowager countess tonight.

 

Should I Stay or Should I Yoga?

My error, folks. I thought I pressed "publish" earlier but it turns out I pressed "save". So let's pretend we're waaaay back at 5pm this afternoon. There, now we've saved the timing of the blog post *and* used our imagination. We're streets ahead on our to-do list for today.

First off, don't bother groaning- even I can admit that's a terrible post title and I'm the queen of puns. One of the only victorious moments I can recall during my year of full-time French training was when I made my first pun. It was what made me believe I could one day actually communicate and annoy people in that wonky language.

Anywho, lowest form of humour aside, I'm looking at the clock in the lower corner of my screen, wondering whether I want to bother going to yoga tonight. I usually go with a friend/former fellow French student and she just let me know she's bailing so now I have to decide whether I have the wherewithal to suck it up and cram my fleshy chubpot into my Lululemons.

Confession: I also just realized I forgot my sports bra and am a woman in need of a certain tensile strength of strap to pull off the feats of yoga so it's unlikely.

I used to belong to a gym. There was a YMCA on the same block as my old apartment building and on a whim one day, I just walked in and signed up. I was with them for about a year but once I moved into my house, I cancelled the membership since it was now about a 25 minute walk away - and I knew I would never bother to go there enough to make it worth it. I was right.

Fast-forward 5 months or so and I was feeling pretty sedentary. So when beginner hatha yoga classes opened up at my work, I decided to give it a try, just to see what was involved. And honestly? My first exposure has been pretty positive. The class is small, only 6 people at its max, and is done in the Oz-like-prison gym in our work's basement so there's no real snobbery to be had. Hard to have your nose in the air when it just makes the smell of unwashed sit-up mats that much more noticeable.

I've made two important discoveries while doing yoga:

1. I have "muscles" in my "stomach" that hurt when I "stretch" them.
2. While I may not consider myself competitive, I am in fact a crazy competitive nightmare.

You may argue, "Hey, you can't be competitive doing yoga! It's a deeply personal exercise meant to make you more in tune with your own body, not compare yourself against others." Oh darling friend, I used to think like you. I wanted to believe it was all cow/cat child pose-positivity. Now I know that when I yog' it's Om like Donkey Kong*.

I fully recognize how ridiculous I am but almost immediately I singled out the most flexible yogi in the room and silently vowed I would out-stretch her. Sure, now on Tuesday morning I end up walking like I'm holding a medicine ball between my knees but it is WORTH IT.

Meanwhile, I deeply fear that if I ever had to attend a "real" yoga class** I would fail miserably, everyone would have Lululemon perfect butt save for me, and the whole ordeal would culminate in a prolonged mocking session that would closely resemble the pivotal scene in Carrie except with  a bucket of Tazo chai tea standing in for pig's blood. Thanks, but I'll stick to the dank basement. I'm only competitive in arenas where I'm fairly certain I at least have a shot at winning. I'm an ass, not an idiot.

Sometimes I wish I could find a form of exercise that feels right for me. Just the idea of running makes me so annoyed and and nauseated (plus, there's this to contend with) so that doesn't seem like a good choice. I've never been one for sports, especially since I can't win at them (ass, not idiot), biking downtown frightens the bejeebus outta me and I only really like going to the gym when someone will go with me, and with no gym near our house and no car, it looks like that's on hold again. I'm looking forward to spring when I can walk everywhere again with ease because at least that's enjoyable.

For now I'll stick with what's working so far - strapping on the spandex, rolling out the mat, and getting as namaste-nasty as I wanna be. If nothing else, people will be coming from miles around to see my inner thighs.




*See? I literally cannot stop with the puns.

**Make no mistake, the instructor is lovely and the class is fun and challenging but it's also safely ensconced in a dingy basement and with other beginners like me.

Reflections on Half a Life Spent Online

Ugh. Today was frustrating for a few irritating reasons and it resulted in me not doing as well spending-wise, so I'm choosing to focus in a different direction.

I found this TED talk by Frank Warren, creator of PostSecret - a staple of my Internet reading back in the early 2000s.


I'd forgotten how his site, along with 1000 journals meant so much to me in those early days of blogging and online discovery. I think I was just starting to get my head around the power of being able to connect with so many people, people I had never met, people from countries I would likely never visit.
I love projects like these; just when I think everything collective that's been done has been done, I'm reminded that there are endless ways to connect with people - just ask Ze Frank. It's the same reason I love the idea of geocaching or yarn-bombing. In a world that's becoming ever smaller, there's still such a divide between us all. Movements like these remind me that there's still something awesome to be discovered, even as an adult. Maybe especially as an adult. As a kid, everything's still possible.
I've been on the Internet in some fashion or another since 1997 or so. I remember the familiar sound of the modem pinging, the infuriating sound of my mother picking up the phone mid-dial, the nights chatting on local IRC channels until 5 in the morning, the emergence of trolls and cliques. I remember using Altavista and text-based browsers and being disappointed when a band or celebrity you liked had no web presence at all. It seemed manageable for a while, then. Like you really could participate in all the online forums you wanted to. Like you could finally shut down your computer at night and say "well, that's it. I've seen the Internet now." 
Of course even then it was somewhat overwhelming. In that first summer online I probably spent close to 6 or 7 hours every day on the Internet, sometimes having to sneak upstairs to bed minutes before my father got up for work. I was both fearful and delighted by the idea of an online life living parallel to my offline one though I realize now I was probably too young to really grasp that the things I said and did online had real-life consequences. Even if the majority of the people I interacted with were from my own city, I still had trouble connecting with people behind the screen. It's something I'm very aware of now that the Internet is a part of every day life. And yes, I appreciate the irony of being more mindful and considerate to international strangers than those that could easily contact me by my full name in my own city, but all I can say is that they didn't seem real then. Now they do. I don't know why that is. Especially since probably 40% of people on the Internet are just robo-accounts sent to make our collective penises larger.
And I remind myself that even then, in those early days, there were already the naysayers, the proto-hipsters saying "this place used to be cool, now it's full of AOL poseurs". Everything had already been done, even before Google Doodles and Reddit, and videobloggers who weren't what they seemed, and Strongbad emails, and live-tweeted Arab Springs. You were always a moment away from being a forgotten meme, even if memes hadn't been invented yet.
And maybe that's why I'm so warmed by people like Frank Warren and Ze Frank and the Vlogbrothers and everybody else who is trying to build a team in this overwhelmingly huge arena. They aren't looking for gurus that are "in before viral", they're building communities that participate and listen and enjoy what's possible. And that's a wonderful thing, maybe the best thing the Internet can be used for. 
Well, that and grumpy cat. 

Frugal February Day 2: Laura Ingalls Milder

Let's... Get... Domestic!

Today was a cheat day - not because I did anything "naughty" per se, but because The Boy paid for groceries today instead of me, thus keeping it as a spend-free day. We bought enough stuff to last us the week, I think, though I lamented this morning that "we have a lot of ingredients but no FOOD". Because I don't like admitting that I have do anything for food to exist. Because I still have the coping skills of a toddler.

We've planned out what we're going to eat for the week, which is often half (or almost all) of the battle with staying home for dinner. I swear to God, if someone made me cook every night but would just tell me *what* to make, I'd be all "Lobster Thermador, I got this," every night.

We've pre-paid for a Dishcrawl that's happening near us this Wednesday and on Friday we plan on dominating at the British High Commission's Trivia Night (motto: lose your dignity to the sounds of posh accents, cheap beer and bad pizza), so those two meals are taken care of. And tonight I decided to wow the crowd with a slow cooker beef pot pie with puff pastry and an eggnog bread pudding. I'm not bragging, I'm just writing it as a reminder that I can cook, for when I'm eating marshmallows and Kraft singles for dinner.

I've been tidying the rest of the day, doing laundry, washing dishes, living this rock star life that y'all are jealous of. I don't want to make you jealous or anything but I also picked out some dirt from a swiffer pad this morning and then re-used it. I'm basically Lady Gaga in a hoodie.

Ooh- and I used another coupon! I know I shouldn't be excited about this, but I unabashedly am. Got me some super cheap laundry detergent, son *does embarrassing roof-raise* *trails off slowly* Now you're super-jealous.

Okay, okay. Not my most awe-inspiring post but I'm half-distracted by The Princess Bride on TV and the promise of Aerosmith songs to be downloaded for Rock Band, so my focus is understandably divided.

Frugal February Day 1: I Can Resist Everything Except Temptation

How awesome is it that Oscar Wilde has two perfect quotes about temptation? So awesome, that's how. 

So, as you may have guessed by my choice of quote, Day 1 of Frugal February was kind of a bust. Okay, a big bust. If today was an actual bust it would be the offspring of Ice-T's wife Coco and Dolly Parton. There was nothing frugal about this day, no matter how you spin it. I already used TWO of my three "gimme" taxis. I know, I know. But it was chilly this morning and I was lazy and ... even I'm not buying this nonsense. I then went on to get breakfast at the cafeteria (and also a slice of homemade lemon meringue pie) and ate a whole bunch of food at a little shindig in the office. The latter of those was free, but if we're taking frugal as not just a financial decision but lifestyle choice then... I exercised no restraint in any sense of the word today.

It was a blood bath that started with crab dip and ended with coworkers screaming for mercy.

But in my defense, our admin assistant really outdid herself. It was kind of an intense week so there was concern The menu for our casual end-of-day soiree included bacon-wrapped-dates, veggie samosas, cheese dip, the aforementioned crab dip, baguette, cheeses, dolmades, meatballs, chicken satay, tofu skewers, baba ghanoush (not spelled correctly but if I start changing it now I'll be up all night adding and removing U's), garam masala-spiced nuts, chips, crackers and roasted garlic. And except for the samosas and chips it was ALL HOMEMADE BY HER. And is officially more cooking than I... well, than I've ever done in my life, frankly.

I ate it so fast and so thoroughly that I think I actually got drunk off delicious. That can be the only explanation for our decision to invent and drink the "Bloody Santa Maria" (aka the "Caribbean Caesar") with a bottle of V8 juice we found in the divisional fridge and rum. It's as terrible as you think it is. Viva la revolution.

So calories and wallet gone to hell, I kind of just said "eff it" and took a cab home with some leftovers (if I spilled even a dollop of that crab dip I would have thrown myself under the bus that made me spill it). And now here I sit, be-sweatpanted and slightly peckish (I'm a monster), wondering how the hell I'm going to turn it around for the next 27 days. 

I had no idea how ingrained in me casual spending was, and I'm not entirely sure how to handle it. I get Mr. Wilde's quote more than you can imagine. Did I need that second piece of pie? Did I need to get breakfast as well as a snack? Did I need to get that cab this morning to get to work on time or would all have been well if I was a little late? I think I know the answers to all of those but I don't like 'em.

I'll end it on a positive note, however. I did do some things right.

1) The reason I took a cab home was that I brought home a bunch of (shoddily-wrapped) leftovers so The Boy could make a dinner of it. Which he happily did. Friday just feels like a "take-in" day and we usually get Indian or pizza so that $10 cab probably saved us a $30-$60 take-in bill, which isn't terrible.

2) I actually wrote everything down that I spent. The two cabs, the breakfast sandwich, it's all committed to paper now. I remember when I had braces I lost a lot of weight when I actually remembered to put my elastics on. Basically, that 2 second act of having to remove them to eat was enough for me to think if I'm actually hungry or if I'm just mindlessly chewing. The book is those elastics - do I really want to write this $3.14 sandwich down? Probably not. Writing is the worst.

3) I used a coupon! My uncle's birthday is on Saturday and I (foolishly) offered to get the cake. I forgot about my little challenge and was resigning myself to making a (terrible) cake. But then a Groupon came up for Marble Slab Creamery (my closest friend and cherished lover). I had an old Groupon credit in my account from a restaurant that closed (RIP Jean Albert's Soul Food) so I used that against the price of this Groupon. So I spent $5 on a $27 ice cream cake for his b-day. I'm feeling pretty chuffed, I must say.

Also I managed to make breakfast into a meal that has a dessert on the end so that has to count for something.

So, you take the good you take the bad, you take them both and there you have: Frugal February #1. It can only go up from here. Unless there's more crab dip. God help you all, then.

Frugal February: The Goals

Well, time continues to march forever forward and the month of love (vomit) is upon us. February is a usually a pretty chill month for me, finance-wise, but I'm still feeling the pinch of Christmas (and will likely continue to feel it until Labour Day) so I've decided to make a firm effort to spend time with my first love: money. I've already bought The Boy his (unromantic but secretly awesome) Valentine's Day gifts, and I've asked that he take me out to dinner instead of buying me anything. Because, much like J-Lo, my love don't cost a thing (but an onion ring). No, really. That was the full title of the song. Check if you want, I'll wait.

See? It's all about the fried foods.

Anyway, I'm going to try and embrace the concept of Frugal February. Mostly because of my second love, alliteration. I'm not foolish or brave enough to make sweeping life changes but there are definitely some areas of improvement I can work on. My goals are:

1.Taxis

Holy crap. I added up January's cab purchases and I spent $58 in credit/debit *alone* on cabs. Add in my cash fares and it's probably twice that, with me taking a taxi 2-3 times a week. Bus and walking combined, my morning commute is about 25 minutes. Which means cabs are mostly unnecessary but also cheap enough that I don't notice them adding up. In a month as inconstant, temperature-wise as February I doubt I can say "no cabs at all!" but I'm going to limit myself to 3 cabs this month, cutting my taxis by more than half. If I just got out of my bed 15 minutes earlier most days, I'd be able to avoid almost all my early-morning taxis. That's a mighty big "if", though. An "if" the size of a queen bed + comfy pillows.

2. Coupons

I order 'em, I open 'em, I forget about 'em, and then I make The Boy race around the grocery store with me on December 31st, convincing him we need 2 dozen eggs and a family-pack of Cheesestrings because "OhMyGodThey'reOnSale!!" Enough, I say. I want to use the coupons I have instead of continually ordering more. I'm not an extreme couponer at all - in fact I feel kind of guilty whenever I hold up the line with a few coupons. That being said, a dolla might not make me holla, but I'd do plenty for a twenty, y'know? I vow to use at least 6 coupons out of my stash when shopping.

3. Pretty frock purchases

Oh, this one is going to sting. I don't even add up how much I spend on clothes in a given month because I know it would make me cringe. And cringing causes unsightly wrinkles, and then I can't trap me a man, natch. My sister and I are total enablers when it comes to this but I'm going to try to "shop my closet" and *gasp* not make any new purchases this month. I don't even know if I can do this. I'm getting heart palpitations just thinking about it.

4. Eating Out

No! Wait! I changed my mind! *This* is the one that's going to be the hardest. Remember those halcyon days of yore when we looked at my taxi purchases and scoffed at the measly sum of $58 on cabs? Multiply that by 5 and you have what I spent on take out/eating out/drinks this month. And I should point out, I handle the lion's share of the grocery bills so that The Boy handles most of the restaurant/take in bills. Which means we ate out or took in about 12 times this month. Not including The Boy's weekly sushi lunches or Subway excursions or my paid-in-cash coffee and sandwich with my sister, or the tri-weekly trip to the office cafeteria to enjoy an "Early Riser" (read: Egg McMuffin without all the press). It's kind of insane, yo.

Eating out is basically one of my only vices and I don't want to get rid of it entirely (scroll back up and see what I asked for for Valentine's Day) but even that seems excessive for me. I'm going to cut that number in half. 6 take outs/restaurant visits this month. Which still seems like a lot but y'know what? We're two young and happenin' kids, unburdened by the costs of children or pets, making okay money - we're going to treat ourselves. However, menu-planning, lame though it may be, is going to have to become our friend. I forsee a lot of Manwich in our futures. No worries there.

5. No "Lazy" Fines

This is probably my habit that most annoys me, and it manifests itself in many ways. For example, I'll have a book from the library. I'll mark down the due date in my calendar. I'll finish the book. Then I'll get too lazy to bother bringing it back, incurring a daily fee as the days stretch into weeks. Or, I'll bypass taking out money from the bank I belong to because it's "too far away", then I'll take out money from a competitor's machine and swallow the 1.50 fine. When I learned they don't shut your water off right away just because you are late on a payment, I started paying that bill when I remembered it. Which is usually half-past too late. I want to try and go a month without late fees, overdraft fees, financial penalties and all and sundry money grabbers that only happen because I'm too damn lazy to check that due date, confirm that bank balance or make that extra walk to save a few bucks. I assume I'll eventually lose the use of my legs due to rapid weight gain or a loss of bone mass due to inertia, so I might as well use this body while I got it.

So that's it, that's the plan. I'll be checking in periodically to tell you how I'm doin'. But if you hear tears coming from my neck of the woods do send a polka-dot dress, size large, and an order of saag paneer, would you? Thanks. You're a peach.