Thirty-Eight

Is my age and also my goal. Every year I declare that this is the year I’m going to lose weight and every year my clothing gets smaller. So this year, I’ve told myself that the only thing I want to do is go down one size in pants from a 40 inch waist to a 38 inch one.

The problem with this is that I hate gyms. And exercise. And healthy people in general. I hate their smug assertion that 30 minutes of cardio kickboxing gives infinitely more pleasure than a six-pack, a bag of Doritos, and HBO. Liars. Besides, as Christopher Hitchens, whom I normally dislike, once wrote convincingly, “…exercise is a pastime only for those who are already slender and physically fit. It just isn’t so much fun when you have a marked tendency to wheeze and throw up, and a cannonball of a belly sloshing around inside the baggy garments.” Nobody needs to see my disgraced form huffing and puffing on a treadmill set to level 2.5.

So I exercise in secret, using coffee breaks to walk up and down five flights of stairs two or three times a day, giving up the post-dinner snacks, and getting into the Wii Fit Plus routines, all so that I may someday, in the far off future no longer have to drag my shameful physique into the office step aerobics class. But for now, all I’d like to do is buy a pair of jeans one size smaller than the ones I’m wearing now.

The Wii Fit Plus arrived yesterday and informed me that I am not only obese, but slouchy and off-balance as well. I am also not walking correctly, apparently.

So I chose my personal trainer (you can chose between a male or a female. I chose the latter  - I’ll say it – because she’s hot) and started going through the exercises. So far, it’s not so bad. I kind of like yoga. Who knew? Maybe this will be the thing that finally works.

Besides, I think my trainer likes me.

On the Other Hand

It’s odd that I’m so used to the idea of moving back to the NB that it doesn’t seem to matter that I’ve had exactly one job interview and have applied for very few actual jobs as there hasn’t been much lately for which to apply. I’m at this point considering applying for a position with frozen food company.

As I’ve mentioned before, the main reasons for moving back is so I’ll be closer to my family, friends, and most other people I know. Then sometimes, as I’m drifting off to sleep, a terrifying thought hits me like a baseball bat to the temple: If I move back, then I’ll be closer to my family, friends, and most other people I know.

On religious education

Growing up in New Brunswick, I attended non-religious schools and never had to learn things like Catechism as they do in Catholic schools. And even though some teachers couldn’t help but offer their views in class, religious or otherwise, it was generally understood that there was a line between Sunday School and Monday to Friday school.

Here in Quebec, there is a new course to be taught for all grades called Ethics and Religious Culture. Its aim is to instruct children on the province’s Protestant and Catholic heritage, as well as the beliefs of Mulisms, Jews, Hindus, and First Nations, among, I assume, others.

This all seems perfectly reasonable to me. If you’re going to live in the world, it’s probably handy to have some idea of what the people around you believe. It’s not telling children one religion is better than another. Yet some parents are arguing for the right to pull their children from the mandatory class because the course conflicts with the moral and religious instruction they receive at home.

If the simple acknowledgement that other beliefs exist somehow conflicts with your values system, maybe it’s time to rethink that system.

Or Maybe We’re Doing Some Things Right

Remember how you’re not supposed to feed a baby solids until after six months? Apparently, it’s now totally cool if you do it at three months.

With us, as I recall, the spoon feeding stage was fairly brief. As soon as he could form a pincer grasp, the spoon was used less and less and he just ate what we ate, albeit in either mushed up or diced form. Apparently we were part of the Baby Led Solids movement. Who knew?

But this also might make him fat. Damn it. How am I supposed to be a good parent if I’m not slavishly following every online article I read, regardless of its source, to the letter?

Also, if you light a cigarette, that late bus will appear

So I finally took the plunge and emailed the minister at that church I’ve been attending about becoming a member.

Mind you, the last time I committed to something, it was to get married which was put on hold indefinitely after the wee lad decided to make an appearance. So in that sense that I always get things a bit wrong, it likely that the day I actually become a member of something new, I will be offered a gig back in the John and will have to abandon it.

But on the other hand, this Saint John plan has been official for the past six months so maybe it’s time I tempted fate and forced the issue.

Also, I don’t smoke. I was just writing all metaphoric-like.