♪ Wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen... salty old Queen of the Sea... ♪

Sang Danny Kaye as Hans Kristian Andersen, er Anderson. It certainly seems frosty enough these mornings. I am starting to feel a certain telltale tickle at the back of the throat - heralding the onset of the of a sore throat. I am unsure what brought it around this time - and I surmise that it is likely the sudden propensity to breathe in the freezing cold air, which musn't do very good things for the throat, never mind the hands, neck and other tender and frost-bitten extremities.

I am also not feeling well about myself - image-wise that is. I went to Mountain Equipment Co-op last Friday to buy a climbing harness package that would have let me go rock climbing with the other Seaforth officers on the weekend. Dave has already had them over 3 weekends in a row and I'd managed to duck out. Not that I was concerned over the height issue, for I do have a fear of heights but in my mind a several hundred plummet wouldn't be as bad as say, a 50-foot one. At least you'd have a bit more time to chew it over and get used to the idea of arriving with a sudden alarming splatter against some immovable rock, who is likely just as surprised and likely just as annoyed. Afterall, who wants to spend the rest of the lovely afternoon outside of their skin and in gobs and bits rather than coherent and epidermis intact. Truth is, I didn't want to waste money by renting something and while not a skinflint, I am in some dire financial straits right now. Penny wise, pound foolish? That's me alright.

So anyway, I am told that the size 34 is XL (extra large) and in my incredulity, I try it on and it bloody well doesn't fit. Are all rock climbers built liek beanstalks? Someone should tie them up and forcefeed them lard or something. Any any rate, I find that I need to get a XXL, which they don't have in stock and he doubts if I will fit an XXL and perhaaps require an XXXL, or in other words, ecnonomy-sized, your-butt-is-larger-than-a-bus-sized, you-should-not-be-doing-this-since-it-will-likely-kill-you-sized. All very dishearteneing and made me not feel very well about myself and so I have decided not to go rock climbing until I have thinning myself down to a size popular enough to be carried on the shelves without someone yelling, "hey, someone here needs a triple extra large, do you know if they make them"? All sorts of people at MEC require extra long regimens of lard force-feeding.

I am not bitter about it but am certain that something must be done to retard the slow and unseen process of packing away the fat in the body's crevices. I do not have the natural fat-burning abilities of a woman and need to revert to a regimen of exercise and proper diet.