The floor in the living room is littered with paper scraps cut out of the faux snowflakes I've been carefully crafting, partly to be creative and nostalgic, and partially to busy my hands while I watch TV to avoid eating. I'm going for the big one this time in my pursuit of weight loss, and when I have in my possession an accurate scale with which to measure my progress, I shall log it online for you. This time, I will not let myself take no for an answer. I will ignore my immature excuses and just do it, mindful of but choosing not to acknowledge the neo-Nike (c) implications.

I am not the victim of advertising. I am a strong, independent achiever and it happens to be a very useful and concise phrase.

Every night for 15 days I have stood in the center of my living room and Danced off the Inches with Lydia Haskell, a cute, short woman looking rather like a mix of Carrie from King of Queens and Rosie Perez, whose perkiness I regarded as cute and uplifting. Having located her personal website, however, LydiaHaskell.com, I am realizing that she's not quite the chirpy cheerleader type I had her pinned as...then again, no one seems quite the same after a google image search.

More later (I hope, but I will post this in the meantime so it doesn't get lost in cyberspace, like so many before it.) I'm off to see Zack on his fifteen-minute break.

On with it.