I’m headed into the mountains for a bit. Friends of ours have invited us to their cabin for an “eve-of-Christmas-eve evening,” and I’ve been led to understand that the closest tie with civilization will be an FM radio reciever (no transmitter.) I’m betting my cellphone will be useless except as a clock, and that the wireless card in my laptop will visibly shiver from loneliness.

I’m bringing the laptop anyway. Who knows when inspiration might strike? I’m not about to hand-write my notes.

I’m also bringing Star Munchkin, Grave Robbers from Outer Space, Falling, UNO, and Phase 10. Oh, and a proper boom-box, my iPod, and my iPod FM transmitter. I can’t use it to call for help, but I can broadcast christmas music to any reciever within about 5 meters.

I’ll be back by Christmas Eve. If I don’t post anything before then, Merry Christmas everybody. Be safe, be kind, be joyous, be well.

–Howard

Next time you’re in a video store, have a gander at the back of the 1976 remake of King Kong (DVD). There’s a photo of Jessica Lange kneeling in the palm of Kong’s hand, topless-but-covering-herself, and Kong is poking her with his finger.

Poking her in the crotch.

I should have scanned the picture from the back of the box before returning the video to Blockbuster, but this way y’all can have a chuckle the next time you’re out renting something else. And I do recommend you rent something ELSE. I have fond memories of the 1976 film, but that’s because I was eight years old and didn’t know that gorillas are supposed to knuckle-walk, not stride-and-stomp. Baker’s monkey-suit Kong looked like Sasquatch on a sound stage. (Jessica Lange was totally hot, though. I didn’t notice THAT when I was eight.)

–Howard

Having driven in San Francisco before, I find today’s Real Life hilarious. Nice work, Greg.

I stopped low-carbing for a couple of days while I fought off a cold. It didn’t matter much, because my appetite dropped to around zero.

Anyway, Sandra again commented this evening that I look thinner. Thinner, even, than the thinner she thought I looked when last she looked and said I looked thinner. Or something like that. It’s possible my medication has kicked in already. I’m not quite better yet. Regardless, this morning I tipped the scales at 181, which is the lowest my weight has been in almost 2 years. I’m only down by 10 pounds from my pre-Thanksgiving high of 191, and I’m nowhere near my fighting-trim goal of 165, but hey, if Sandra thinks I look thinner, and if the line is graphing downward as it moves to the right, I won’t complain.

My energy levels have been waaay up, too. I chart my sleep patterns, and sure enough, I’m back to the point where I can get by on five or six hours of sleep for a few days, and then catch up with one night’s eight plus a nap. It’s nice.

I’ve still got a jelly-belly, though. I know there’s a hard-core six-pack hiding behind it, but the tops of those cans haven’t seen the light of day in DECADES. I doubt I’ll be able to get below 10% body-fat, which is pretty much where I’d have to be for Lake Lipid to recede far enough that my abs are visible. I mean, that’s a place reserved for people who TRAIN. I don’t train. I run on the treadmill long enough that I don’t have to feel guilty when I quit working out and sit in the hot tub instead.

And now I’m hungry. It’s probably too close to Christmas, and my mandated holiday diet break for me to try to fire up the ketone engine again, but it’s also probably a bad idea to take that as license to binge. There’s egg-nog in the fridge, but I think I’ll have a bowl of oatmeal instead.

–Howard