So it�s February, just like that.

I continued in my travel-mad ditherings for quite a while before I finally settled on a trip to Seattle, March 12-17. This, of course, was only after I considered approximately 342 alternatives. I decided I wanted something waterfront and then rejected numerous destinations on the basis that they required too much solo driving in unfamiliar territory. Seattle seems ideal�no car needed, cheap flights from Chicago ($168! Hel-LO!), great food and sightseeing, and guaranteed good coffee. Top all that off with a great Priceline hotel deal and the possibility of a whale-watching tour, and, well, what more could I want?

But I would not be Schmance without some sort of low-grade travel distraction . . . so I have decided to book myself on a walking tour in September or October, and I will make myself crazy trying to decide where, which tour, how to get there, when to book, and so forth.

I joined a gym. I was very, very cranky and I knew I had to do something when people started saying to me, �You�re cranky! You need exercise!� So I joined a gym near my office and I�m trying to go on my lunch hour. I think it�s helping; I�m sleeping better and I have a little more energy (and a ravenous appetite). Because I'm not buying lunch, I�m eating healthier food that I bring from home (and which, incidentally, I purchased at Whole Foods). I am secretly hoping that I will drop a couple of dress sizes as a result of all this, but then how secret can a wish be after I�ve written it in my Diaryland diary, hm?

The next thing on my list is that I would like people to stop saying to me, �You really should get out there and meet someone special.� Wha . . . huh? Oh, okay, I�ll do that! Get out �there�? Where is �there�? And you�re saying that meeting someone special is just a matter of getting out �there�? Well, holy cow, I didn�t know it was that easy! Yes, I�m cynical (and sarcastic as hell) about love and romance and such. At the moment I don�t believe it�s even a remote possibility, so I don�t see why I should be expected to make a special effort in that direction. I think it�s enough that I get up and go to work every day, get up and go to the gym at lunch, go home and take care of my son every night, and then get myself to worthwhile events with increasing frequency. I went to the rabbi�s home for dinner one Shabbat, I went to the beit midrash at the shul, I go to my informational sessions at the �leading human relations and civil rights organization that combats anti-Semitism and all forms of bigotry.� I think that�s quite enough �getting out there� for the moment, so maybe everyone could just stop yammering on about this now.

But I�m not bitter. Happy Valentine�s Day, or whatever.

I sprained my ankle last night and it swelled to the size of a grapefruit. It hurt so much that I actually cried! My little son came home from his dad�s house and said, �Oh, poor mama! You need a hug, then you�ll feel better.� He snuggled up to me while I lay there whimpering with my foot propped up, waiting for the ibuprofen to do its thing. I fell asleep wondering if taping up my windows would really protect us from terrorists with biological weapons, or whether I should just lay in a supply of chocolate and liquor.

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