As an experiment (if my application is approved), I'll be testing out Google AdSense on the blog. A couple of my friends have put these ads on their pages and have had modest success. We'll see how it goes. There will be nothing inappropriate. Nothing tasteless. No "win a free iPod" BS. But, truth is, occasionally, mama does need a new pair of shoes. Really. If you saw the things I had on my feet today, you would have been appalled. (My podiatrist would have been even more appalled.) Here's hoping this brings in a penny here and there!
In other news, I'm working hard on my campaign for healthy eating, and, while kinda sorta watching the last quarter of the Super Bowl, I made a big pile of trail mix to take to work tomorrow. I have a bad habit of getting focused on work and missing the lunch hour - this way, I'll have something halfway decent to nosh at my desk without resorting to the crappy candy machine in the basement. It unfortunate that it's right next to the water and ice dispenser. Angel on one shoulder, devil on the other.
I've had to be very careful about walking too much as the back heals, but I'm still trying to hobble my carcass down the street to St. Matthew's Cathedral at least three times a week. I had decided a long time ago that I needed to incorporate a little mediation into my daily routine. There's been so much stress around me for so long, I felt it was important to carve out some time to just be quiet and breathe and focus. Sure, I'm not even a cafeteria Catholic at this point, but the rituals of childhood - lighting candles, finding time in a solemn place to reflect on things - help to calm and direct the mind. St. Matthew's is the church where President Kennedy's funeral took place - the base of the steps to the cathedral is where the famous photo of John-John saluting his father's casket was taken. There is something about the sense of our history that makes the cathedral an even more appropriate place for me to go and ponder life.
I'm looking to return to biking, as the back improves. My old 1980s Schwinn 10-speed is a road bike and was not designed to haul my current heft, so I have to save pennies to get enough together to buy a good, tough bike, but it'll be great to get back to pedaling around. It'll be quite a while before I can afford the bike, but that gives me time to get advice on what I need. Nothing fancy. I'm not the Sta-Puff Marshmallow Man version of Lance Armstrong; I just need something with wheels, upright handlebars, and a strong frame. (Ah likes mah men like I ah likes mah bicycles: upright with a strong frame - and preferably with a nice set of wheels. Heh.)
I bought a 2008 datebook on clearance at Barnes & Noble last week. It has the somewhat pretentious title of "A Writer's Journal." All that means is that it's a datebook illustrated with arty black & white photos of great American writers, with quotes about the craft of writing. It was either that or the pink, rhinestone-encrusted, checkbook-sized calendario with "solo para chicas!" written on it in frilly script. (No, gracias!) I have a planner at work, but I wanted one of my own, to track my efforts to be a healthier human being and my efforts to be a more creative human being.
My goals: get published and get a date. Yes, a date. With a man. A single man. A single straight man. A single straight man who isn't insane, disturbed or an utter fabulist.
Or channeling sailors from the Spanish Armada.