The Fluffbucket Diaries

Today’s social media memory.

Maybe for Lent, I can give up social media. Maybe instead, I can write here every day.

Forty-plus days away from Catholic Twitter and Catholic Instagram, among other platforms, could only be restorative.

I moved to North Carolina in 1993 because of what ultimately was an ill-advised relationship. I got a new newspaper job, moved on to one of the first dedicated news sites on the Internet, and left in 1996 for Chicago.

In many ways, my years in Raleigh were awkward, but I appreciated many of the old school journalists there. One was Mike Yopp, who I learned passed away recently. He taught me a lot about newspapering in North Carolina, and gracefully endured my California transplant ignorance of the South.

When I edited a Sunday section and suggested running a wire story about Alabama in it, he frowned and shook his head. “No, that’s the DEEP South,” he said with a hint of disdain about the topic. “We don’t cover that.”

It’s people like Mike who made Raleigh memorable, and I’m grateful for that.

Ezra Klein in The New York Times about our home state:

There is a danger — not just in California, but everywhere — that politics becomes an aesthetic rather than a program. It’s a danger on the right, where Donald Trump modeled a presidency that cared more about retweets than bills. But it’s also a danger on the left, where the symbols of progressivism are often preferred to the sacrifices and risks those ideals demand. California, as the biggest state in the nation, and one where Democrats hold total control of the government, carries a special burden. If progressivism cannot work here, why should the country believe it can work anywhere else?

Lent is coming, and I’m frankly not very excited about it. Disenchanted with a lot of Church-related things right now. But not necessarily with God-related things. There’s a bit of a difference, as far as I’m concerned.

The Catholic far right has ruined a lot for me. Tired of it.

Down another 2.2 pounds this week. I confess that I weighed myself a second time this morning after emptying myself, as it were, and I logged that (larger) amount of weight lost.

Still not increasing my activity level as much as I’m supposed to be. But I’m still burning more calories than I’m consuming. Doesn’t matter; I still need to get off my ass, even if only for 10 minutes at a time.

Although I’m only 13.6 pounds lighter than I was when I started all this January 11, I’m feeling better physically. Climbing stairs doesn’t leave me aching as much, and my pelvic floor pain isn’t as chronic. My lower back isn’t getting much better—it feels worse some mornings—but maybe more exercise will help that.

If I could lose 10 pounds a month, I’d lose a whole person by Thanksgiving. That would be nice—but I expect plateaus and stalling between now and then. I remain in it for the long haul.

It’s almost noon Saturday and it’s 11 degrees out. I have a drive-up Target order to retrieve. Between the deep freeze and my gut feeling iffy at the moment, I’d just as soon stay home. #benignexistence

Stalker.

Here’s a point in this article that isn’t made enough: “The United States currently has among the highest rates of child poverty in the developed world, a trend exacerbated by the coronavirus pandemic.”

Second straight day without a salad. Less cranky this time.

I shouldn’t get used to this, as it’s the best way for me to get the 3 to 4 cups of fruits and vegetables I’m supposed to have each day. I will start anew tomorrow.

I totally live to hear references to the filioque dispute over the Nicene Creed on late night TV. Or, if you’re gonna get fussy about it, the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed.

If it turns out that my lousy day and wretched mood are linked to the fact that I didn’t have a salad today, I’m going to be really pissed off.

It could explain, though, most of the past 20 to 30 years.

Dropped another 2.2 pounds this past week. Wasn’t expecting that much, frankly; I felt like I was slacking, or maybe this all is beginning to feel routine. Not that that’s a bad thing.

Honestly, I like the healthy regularity of the past few weeks: Most days, it’s a matcha kefir smoothie for breakfast, a high-protein lunch, and a big salad with a reasonable portion of protein and small portion of carbs for dinner, plus a smattering of snacks like grape tomatoes, an ounce of cheese, or a piece of dark chocolate. And at least 64 ounces of water (including Vitaminwater Zero and peppermint tea).

With my eating habits, I’m developing the kind of discipline I would really like in other parts of my life. Now I just need to bring that same kind of regularity to exercise.

Got a nice little celebratory screen grab when I posted my weight loss this morning. Looking forward to more.

It’s been an interesting 24 hours. And the snow is still falling, albeit not as much.

Next weekend: polar vortex.

This SNL bit riffing off “Pretend It’s a City” (which I loved) was funny, but I wanted to like this more than I did. Could have used better writing and slightly less Scorsese.

Good morning from the Midwest.

This is how I learned about this Jewish Space Laser business. This is also why I remain on Twitter.

Tell me again why the BBC is a respected news source.

And now, the 12-year-old’s contest entry in the latest contest on the DragonVale subreddit. (I post them on her behalf.)

Today was an unfortunate reminder that job cuts aren’t confined to the news industry.

Grateful that I still have a job, but it’s always a gut punch when a colleague is let go.

Farhad Manjoo on the effect of Trump’s Twitter presence (and subsequent ban): “The Pew Research Center reported this week that while the 116th Congress barely passed any substantive bills, its members collectively set records for their activity on Twitter. That dismal fact has to be seen as a legacy of Trump’s tweets — lawmaking, now, is more a matter of going viral than getting anything done.”

Just learned this morning that another cousin has died. Don’t know whether Eric’s death is COVID-related; he had had a severe stroke in 2019 and had been in a nursing home since then.

This is the third death in the past two months among my extended family. (An “uncle,” who was actually my mom’s cousin, died after a long illness – cancer, I think – earlier this month.) It’s all at once sobering and alarming.

Down another 3 pounds. Trying not to be disappointed after the previous week’s 6-pound loss.

After experiencing some palpitations early last week, I connected with the doctor and he has me going every other day on the phentermine. He says it takes a while for the body to get acclimated to that medication. Meanwhile, no problems on the diuretic.

I measure my blood pressure most days; it generally ranges from 150/80 to maybe 130/80, though I’ve seen it go down to 110/82. That stubborn diastolic number is annoying.

All in all, the low-carb approach has been livable. Lots and lots of salads, which is fine by me.

The exercise thing is taking a while for me to work into my day; this is more laziness on my part, though halfway through a short indoor walking video today, my back reminded me why I prefer chair workouts for now. And I’m trying to find ways to get more steps around the house. Not easy, but the steps add up after a while. It doesn’t help that the MyFitnessPal app, which I use to track my food intake and exercise, doesn’t always sync well with the Fitbit.

Sigh. It’s a long slog ahead.

There is definitely a distinction between being “nice” and being “kind,” as this Lifehacker piece notes:

Think of kindness as the act that accompanies (or replaces) your words. It’s silently helping a struggling mom of three kids unload her groceries into her trunk, rather than smiling and saying, “You’re doing a great job, mama,” as you breeze past. It’s bringing a pot of soup to your sick friend, rather than sighing sympathetically and saying you hope they feel better soon. You’re kind if you shovel your neighbor’s car out from under a pile of snow, stop to help a stranger change a tire, or pause to give an obviously lost person some directions—even if you’re not the type of person to bother saying “Bless you,” when someone else sneezes.

Over the weekend, I deleted my fourth Doomscrolling list of political Twitter accounts. I get why people might continue the outrage parade after the Biden inauguration, but I just don’t have the energy to watch it anymore.

Meanwhile, the Washington Post’s Jennifer Rubin lists 50 things that are better already, and reading it took my blood pressure down a few notches this morning.