Last night, I went to Weight Watchers with The Frenchman. (Yeah, I know. Weight Watchers in France. Fucking brilliant, eh?) It was my first time ever. The Frenchman seriously injured his knee at Middlebury and he’s trying to make things as easy on his body as possible.

When they weighed me, I was only .7 kilos (1.5 lbs.) over the limit of the weight range for my height. Doh! (I suspect that had they weighed me early in the morning, pre-breakfast and nekkid as a sunbeam, I’d have probably weighed in exactly at the limit.) Instead of tossing me and Trog out on our not-big-enough butts, they graciously invited me to come with The Frenchman for free. I got a little bag to put my stuff in and a paper thingy to record my food intake for the week. It’s not a bad idea, really. I’ve gotten out of the habit of doing it for my hypoglycemia. We’re going to start aquagym next week, which should be fun.

As soon as we left, The Frenchman kept saying, “See? I told you! You’re so sexy! You look great!” (You can see why I love him, right?)

Things are still in progress with the book. Nothing conclusive to report yet.

Thanks to Neil’s blog, I’m completely enthralled with the trailer for Guillermo del Toro’s next film, Pan’s Labyrinth. I can hardly wait to see it, but I worry that here it’s going to be subtitled in French, not Spanish. I’m a big fan of Guillermo’s work. I’m sure it’s going to be a smash.

And now to turn my hair plum black (or at least try).