I felt bleary-eyed after a rainy Sunday.
I would ride my bike today, I resolved.
I jumped into jeans and a gray cardigan. I have a lot of black and gray cardigans. Everything matches black and gray. But if you don’t wear a lot of makeup, it washes you out and makes you look like a nun. Today I applied eyeliner UNDER the tear line, because the smudgey look cancels out the nun look.
Before I left the house I ate brown rice with raisins. I was afraid otherwise I would stop for a Big Bopper.
Relax, you say. Have a Big Bopper.
A Big Bopper is a Martini with… Heavens, no, it is a 490-calorie ice cream sandwich.
To be honest, I haven’t had a Big Bopper this year. I’m off the milk, off the ice cream. But even bicyclists can’t risk eating Big Boppers. You can bike 40 miles after a Big Bopper and still gain five pounds.
I would not eat a Big Bopper, I vowed. I would go to a coffeehouse. I would:
- Drink coffee and eat a raspberry-white-chocolate scone (270 calories).
- Write in my diary. (I never write in my diary, but I carry it around in case I’m inspired.)
- Finish Nick Harkaway’s witty SF thriller, Angelmaker, which has accompanied me on bike rides for the last two months.
Attainable goals, right? I eat my scone and drink coffee, but as usual have nothing to write in my diary. I open Angelmaker on my e-reader. It turns out I am only on page 200 so I can’t finish Angelmaker. I really should sit down and read ir, but I only allow myself to read it late at night.
Then it turns out that my e-reader is hooked up to WiFi so I check my email.
And it is a good thing I do, because I am inundated by email from match.com
I encouraged my cousin, who was driving me mad, and to whom I had already introduced all the men I know, to sign up at match.com. She wouldn’t sign up unless I signed up. That didn’t make sense since I am married, but what the hell?
I paid them no money, so I am not a member.
And my profile consists of one sentence: “Emma is my favorite book.”
One bloody sentence, no picture, and I am deluged with emails saying I “voted” for some guys in my “daily matches” (how did I do that?) and “they’re so interested, they took the time to email you.” I doubt they exist, because no one has ever been crazy about my saying that Emma is my favorite book. (Ask my husband. He has never read Emma.)
For one thing, Emma is the unlikable Austen heroine. Right? I like her, but lots of Austen fans do not.
Austen wrote, “I am going to take a heroine whom no one but myself will much like.”
Emma is smart. Emma says what she thinks. She doesn’t want to marry, and she prefers the lively Harriet to the rigid Jane Fairfax. Emma would destroy society in a moment, if Knightley weren’t there to criticize.
It is a slow day at match.com if indeed someone is fascinated that I like Emma.
I must delete my profile. Now what’s my password? I hope I wrote it down…