of synch and synchronicity

synchronicity. The slight breeze that brushes your cheeks when the angels talk to you. Lately, I have been noticing much synchronicity causing the leaves of my life to rustle. Like a feeling of deja vous, it makes me happy and sometimes giddy when that breeze touches me. My great, lovely, intrinsically beautiful friend Jenna visited me. She had a strong desire to visit St. Pauls, and then we saw Mary Poppins it cropped up again, because St. Pauls is featured. Later I saw Constant Gardener (fantastic, amazing direction) which also featured St. Pauls and had a scene filmed at the Tate Modern. Jenna and I had just visited!

Again, I had read a short story late last week about a zoo that was raided for its recently deceased animals, and today I read of a similar but factual event in the US. Monday morning I noticed two sartorial gentlemen on the tube; they had presence and beautiful accents, one Irish, one English and ever so posh. Later that day I had to look at the Vodafone annual report and I recognised the Chairman. Of the Board. Mr. Posh English sitting next to me on tube man. Lord MacLaurin of Knebworth. I wish I had introduced myself and asked for a job (actually I doubt I have that much gumption, but hey, we already have this much synchronicity going on). And the day before I had seen an ad in the tube for Robbie's live at Knebworth album and noted it in my head not because I like Robby, because I don't, but because at my first job here in London a woman had gone to see him at Knebworth but missed the show because of traffic and bizarrely, a co worker of her, and I have a dinner at Tom Aikens tonight (tingling with anticipation).

Also I was thinking of my friend Kat in NYC because I received an email from this random guy who is in NYC, and who I have a date with in 2 weeks, and apparently partying quite hard – so I though I wonder if I should have him call Kat who is always interested in meeting interesting people that play in an extreme playground? And then within 24 hours Kat's guy she "sees" called my mobile (on accident I think, ie keyguard issue). And on a funny note, for our 007 work Christmas party I am going as Dr. Holly Goodhead, who has lots in common with me, as i just learned from my friend google.co.uk: she was full of sarcastic comments, brown hair, blue/grey eyes, worked for CIA (I interviewed with them), went to Vassar for university (I almost went but for parents saying no at the last minute because of the expense), and the actress Lois Chiles who plays Dr. HG is actually from Texas.

I need to wrap up in a pashmina, the wind is quite brisk! Does this happen to other people, or would it if they thought about it? I don't place a judgement on these events; I just happen to tingle when "coincidences" occcur with celerity. The coincidences themselves seem to mean nothing but for me the imbue life with a feeling of connection with a level beyond the everyday.

passion! passion? passion.....

Last night i went to a lovely thanksgiving theme dinner party, with several fine dining industry persons. The nice thing about that was the chosen wine and cheese tray. There was this one cheese that had truffle shavings running through the middle, like a runaway pig in the french countryside. looked scary, tasted beyond amazing. orgasmic. seriously.

I was asked whether i like doing what i do in terms of job. Whilst i appreciate my job for what it is, a fairly good way of making good money and living in london, i don't particularly write odes to it or get up in the morning beaming with enthousiasm. I like who i work with and have developed good working relationships and luckily friendships. My English friends i have work to be thankful for, as it is through it that i met them and they befriended me. This is not an easy task as i moved here a non-Brit and knowing no one.

The second car in the train though is one i have seen before but its answer alludes me. or maybe an answer that i like alludes me and in that space i feel uncomfortable and awkward. what are your passions, what do you wish you did "for a living"? this is a rabbit in headlights moment for me. i have no overriding passionate drive in my life. I like answering questions with a boldness that says i know myself but in this i fail miserably. i dont know this area of me or perhaps this is it, and the answer leaves me with a feeling of inadequacy. Is there something wrong with me that i feel the pull of many other callings but not one in an overriding sense? is it the equivalent of never being in love with someone?

I love writing and wish i could devote more time to it. I would love to be writer, but do you see me focusing all my miss gl energy on it? nope. i wanted to be an artist at one point and my flat has boxes of art supplies but when was the last time i drew? i wish i was a furniture designer and had gone to design school. although i am rubbish at maths, so i may have failed the engineering oriented courses. I love, love, love food and wine. I almost went back to uni for a MBA in wine business in Australia before i moved to london; another path in life not chosen. I have a friend who followed her passion and now is a [fantastic] chef in nyc. But in the mirror my reflection does not possess the confidence to make this choice.

i think that confidence is a secret ingredient of passion. to follow through, take risks, give up other paths and go forward boldly takes confidence. a passion without that is a "love" or a "really like" or a "i wish i ...". i am very risk averse. and giving up a certain income stream is something i shy away from, even if the potential upside is making a living that makes you happy. i don't disbelieve in that concept. but i come from the thought that not everyone can have that, and i am not the type of person, at this point, to make different decisions to put me on another course. will i ever be that person? i fantasize about owning my own business, finding a way to make a living that stimulates the creative side of me, of not working for the man but being my own boss. and then the confidence issue kicks in...what if i can't do it, what if i fail, what if i become bankrupt. I do live in a fear of bankruptcy because it happened to my parents when i was young and it caused much emotional trauma in the family.

I am going to make a change and a leap of faith, in myself in 2006, and these issues are being worked out and worked on.

i just had an odd moment of deja vous. how fun.

Guilty Pleasures

we all have them, those habits and tidbits about us that we don't offer on a plate as fyi to just any person, or friend for that matter. Those that know you closest whether romantically or as a friend may know some of them. there is not one person in my life who knows all of them. But life wouldn't be as charged with fun if you can't earn or create new ones for yourself.

Guilty pleasures can be animal, vegetable or mineral and run the gamut of laughable to tawdry and locked up away in a box; you may have one for each point on the spectrum or only a handful.

When do you release this knowledge to someone else? does it depend on you, or them? when you give away that knowledge, do you act as if it as a grant from Ye Old Charity Trust or a hit and run focused on your local charity shop (here, take this and i hope it helps the starving blind puppies in Moldova!).

There is a moment of vulnerability when you put this information on the table, open yourself up for judgement from the other person in the dialogue without any speedbumps between your and their eyes; you will know right away as sound travels that fast and somehow comprehension keeps up with it. There is a rush, and a slight ego boost when you disclose, Actually, i really think Kevin Sorbo is hot; and Vin Diesel too. Suprise, amusement, appreciation, acceptance. sigh. we think alike, or at least respect the emotion. the universe has expanded and contracted without rupture.

Top Ten Guilty Pleasures, including but not limited to:
1. CSI Vegas and a crush on each guy in the show. really.
2. Smoking when i drink (this is decreasing though).
3. Ministry of Sound dance music comps
4. Star Trek NG and my ensuing crush on Patrick Stewart who i have celebrity sighted and been really close to in the Groucho more than once (thanks ex beaux)
5. Kevin and Vin as mentioned above
6. A crush on Jennifer Garner
7. A hatrid of Ben Affleck
8. the show Xena Warrior Princess
9. Creating alternate personas to tell people who i am, when i drink, like Starbuck barrista, stripper, makeup salesgirl
10. always making food in the kitchen when i come home smashed
11. listening to classical music and nature sound meditation music

(NB this obviously doesn't disclose my sordid spectrum)

Virtual Birthday Greetings

Happy Birthday Dad
Happy Birthday Emily Steels
Happy Birthday Sarah B
Happy Birthday Susie D
Happy Birthday Baby G

Sagittarius's are fabulous. Thanks for being in my life, and i care for you very much.

-love Miss GL

Debating Game, take 2

I would like to thank all the commentors below; they have helped me make some headway into defining the differences.

In summary, i think the confusion lies in the assumption of the definition of dating, in simple terms. I think it means one thing here, and another on the other side of the pond.

The point that was made that relationships should not be driven by a rigid formula resounded with me. I agree, but because they are messy and most people do not have good communication skills when it comes to their emotions and the honesty in between, a basic template helps. It can help people from getting hurt, help them make decisions, and just grease the process.

One comment clarified for me where i think there is some confusion. "Either you are dating or you are not...why would you accept that your bf/gf is seeing others". This statement assumes that dating equals bf/gf. In the US, they are two separate concepts. A bf is an exclusive, monogomous relationship with the expecations that tag along with "couple"dom. Dating is not encomposaing a monogomy, an exclusivity, and there has not been an establshed coupleness yet.

This is what the DTR is about. that moment when you realise you like the idea of the next step, bf/gf, and you discuss with the other person if they too want to proceed down this path. often if the answer by one is NO, then there is a break up. So yes, you can be dating, but by definition it is the space between a friend or even not knowing someone, and being in a monogomous relationship that americans call bf/gf. I disagree that the "talk is crap". Frankly, i think that any communication that is open and honest between two people concerning their mutual emotions and feelings considering the affect one anther, possibly immensely, is good inherently. It is also a very difficult and scary thing to do, because its really an appointment with Dr. Vulnerability isn't it!
I still dont feel like i begin to understand my ending comment, if it isn't X, then what does Y look like. Calling all cars, feel free to comment with descriptive commentary. If a British guy thinks you are dating him, than he thinks you are exclusively with him?

When i am not so tired, i want to write on the topic of why would you date and accept something other than bf/gf. That is a monster of a question, and is what US dating culture is based on. It also exposes the ugly side of how my generation is socialised to regard relationships. There are some positives, but loads of negative implications.

Finally, no matter all the rhetoric about how to get into a relationship, humans are made to be in couples (same or mixed sex, the more love the merrier) and will find ways to do it, some healthy, some via a strict template, everywhich way in between. if it was anything different, we wouldn't have blogs/books/movies, etc. discussing it! happy saturday, i am going to go have a big glass of wine to celebrate my solo saturday night.

X and Y chromosomes

Welcome to The Debating Game. Subject: Dating in the UK
Argument: There is no concept of "dating" in the UK. Men do not ask women out consecutively in order to get to know them and determine whether there is an adequate chemistry and mental foundation for a romantic relationship. Rather, usually relationships are built on the primal foundation of a drunken night of sex, and there is no middle ground between zero and "boyfriend/girlfriend".

Are you for or against the motion? Discuss.

Background Facts. I once read in a UK Cosmo where a man was discussing his after- the -fact impressions of his "girlfriends". There was a CV of each relationship along with a length of term of each, none of which was longer than 6 months. In the US, I could go out on dates with someone for over 6 months and never be his girlfriend. I have been told by English women that the way to get men is wait until they are on the piss, hook up with them, give them your digits, and text until they take you out and voila he is now your boyfriend. In the US, this might even be termed "psycho girl" behaviour. And in talking to some English guys, some do not seem to understand that there is something in between friends, and girlfriend. I have no judgement on either method. The US system has some really bad points, e.g., it rarely happens in dictionary perfect form, and there are regional differences. I am not berating the absence of dating culture; i would merely like to "get" this foreign environment.

I have had a boyfriend here, and we dated first. But I had to explain it to him. I have also gone out on dates with English guys too. But there doesn't seem to be a standard template for it, nor does it feel normal. I sometimes feel at cross purposes, like not understanding what "going pear shaped" means when you first hear it, but having somewhat of an idea.

My further specific questions are, when is the "boyfriend/girlfriend" flash point, are women supposed to ask men out and why don't men ask women out here often? I go out with English men only if i write the script and feed them lines from a teleprompter. It is so much work, and it tires me quickly. Dates themselves are hard work. you have to be On: listen intelligently, read the inferences in the dialogue, take care with what you say, think about how you come across, figure the other person out, search for common ground, listen for significant areas of disagreement, try not to judge, especially not yourself (NB can you tell i am a perfectionist?). You need a power bar just to get over the fatigue that came with scoring the night out in the first place. When i don't have the energy to run the teleprompter game, then i don't have dates. Or i go out with men from other countries. If you get together but dont have sex, what does the man infer from that? If the British don't date, what do they do!? I often hear comments like, we don’t date American style, and is there really such thing as American dating? I struggle with integration on this subject more than any other (except for my English accent, which I am still refining to my English friends' chagrin). I never feel like the void is adequately explained! If it isn't X, then what does Y look like?

Polo Player, emphasis on Player

I have a third date with an International Polo Player. Emphasis on Player.

CV: 45, in the army, very much out of the pages of Country Life, studied Agriculture at Oxford (eons ago), flat in Fulham, drives a beat up landrover with a labrador in the front, upfront about being up for fun but unavailable for anything else, and loves fast things (is on the polo team (plays at Guards, just got back from Argentina), the ski team, races in points to points, etc). He has a string of polo ponies and I have no doubt that he has a string of women too. Or girls rather. He was shocked when he found out my age was 32, and not 27, which is where he placed me (nice compliment though). He usually only dates girls in their 20s because they don't find it a waste of time to have fun without a relationship, and "women in their 30s usually have baggage".

Yet he acts younger than 45. He has a charismatic charm assists his attractiveness rating but empirical looks he does not have. He has an amusing almost caricature like aura about him. He is also very much a Country man, out of touch with city life, fashion or culture. I had him take me to the Farm in Fulham, and he was gobsmacked and didn't know what a gastropub is. Because with his pedigree, it doesn't matter. Invites come despite ability to dress well or have seen the latest luvvie on the west end. It is funny to think that he is only 5 years older than my ex who lives here.

So he works quite fast (speed seems to be his theme song); I feel pressure already via his body language that he wants this body in a bed with him quite soon. He has already sent me one annoying text that said "I find you delightful, mmmmm". Icky. And an email that said "I hope you know I find you quite irresistible". Please settle down sir and stop trying overly hard (Freudian slip or pun?), to get into my knickers! You don't find me irresistible, because you hardly know me. You find the thought of sex with me irresistible. Perhaps it is the difference between the US dating and the UK absence of dating, which I still do not understand. Am I being cynical though? It is one thing to learn from your experiences, another for them to force you into a corner and wear a dress the colour of jaded, prune and prude. I want a man to want me physically and mentally, but maybe I get hung up on one whilst trying to figure out the other?

You know, if he would take some of my own advice, and play a little hard to get, I would find him exceedingly charming and more sexy, but once they try too hard, they travel down the slope of dirty old man, like it was a luge race.So my dilemma is this. The flirtility factor wavers around above average, but certainly not 120%. Where is the marginal utility of Mr. Polo? I am not worried about falling for him and getting hurt because I need a depth that he can't deliver. But can I still play in his league? I am unsure if this would be being true to who I am. Right now, I am erring on the red wine side of things. Which translates into drink a lot of it, and see where it leads you.

I do have a notion that he slots several women a year, has his one long standing woman in another part of the country whom I met when I met him, and probably keeps in touch with all of his string of girls (similar to maintaining a string of ponies). The antiqued English gentleman way of doing things, rather than the plough -through -you Nuevo Playboy. Worth it for the experience? I know his agenda; i think mine is to determine if he deserves me in his playground.

Swedes of our Labour

I just arrived in london from Stockholm where i spent the weekend with friend Jo.
I thought Stockholm was sublime. It was clean, inviting, fun, relaxing, not crowded, and consumer overfriendly. Sweden, where the shopping is better, the fashion is better, the style of living is better, the design is functional and funkier, the food is better, the service is better, and the men are hotter. I love Scandinavian countries. I think that in a past life, and i honestly do believe in past lives, i lived somewhere in this area. The atmosphere for me is instantly inviting. I feel at home when i go there.

It is not inexpensive, but you get so much more when you spend a krona (ok, many krona). People were so... nice. they talked to you in the shops, give you quick lessons in the coin system, ask you about where you are from and decode the swedish menu on the chalk board without a sneer. We didn't meet any men, but i really wish we had. The word Yum kept falling out of my mouth. The men were so lovely: fit, athletic physiques that did not shout i spend all my time drinking beer at the pub. Unfortunately, there was no shortage of too tight jeans, and a trend toward the nuovo-retro-viking look, but we can slowly and subtley change that.

when i have left a scandinavian country, i have always thought, how could i get a job that would allow me to move here? there is a warmth and cleanliness that the cities seem to be enveloped in. and that reminds me, that although i like life in London, and am very happy here, more so that i can remember being, well, ever; most of that is also about being outside the US. I think too far in the future and cause myself anxiety, a habit i must abolish, and think about what i am going to do when my work permit is finished. which is 3 years. not exactly last call. although in terms of wanting to do this job for 3 more years, Munch's the scream flashes through my mind.

London is a great breeding ground of experiences that have allowed me to grow into the person i felt i could be if given a certain stage. But other places could be the same end result, but with a different, less hectic, more healthy lifestyle? My parents would be quick to point out that Texas would do that trick. But i have a mental block on living back in the states right now, but for an opportunity in NYC should a fabulous job ever present itself.

London, where my social life is better, my work life is better, my exposure to culture is better, my travel log is better, my friends are better (with exceptions, you know who you are, but i am thinking of my multiple pschyo ex-friends), my cultural life is better, and my sex life just the same (nil). I guess i am glad to be back, despite the unstockholmian aloofnes and dirt.

this is too deep, even for me.

Every guy in the City is wearing last year's french connection multi coloured striped scarf. They are as prevalent as the dreaded blue gingham shirt. However, the scarves are at least in season. They are not annoying, but it makes me feel as if i am in the midst of a public school recess. It is just not always this patent. Also on a positive note, less frequent sightings of the white peasant skirt; they must be heading to Rio for the winter.

Speaking of less frequent, have not heard from the Saturday Night Special. Oh well, disappointed but we are not allowed to mope. In fact, i won't cease to hope. Optimism is a state of mind that the confident can afford. I used to not understand that. When i was younger i was very pessimistic, and always preparing myself for "the worst". Now, i realise that such an attitude is fueled by lack of confidence. If you believe in yourself and care for yourself, there is no downside of optimism. If you are optimistic, but the event as you would have like to have happened is stifled, it does not injure you or cause you to doubt youreslf. with equinamity you take it and continue on. you also draw positive conclusions and put it in your basket of wisdom for the next time you play little red riding hood.

So much about dating is found in the substance of timing. it is overwhelming in its significance in the scene. It really just takes one; one guy who you think is worth spending time with and getting to know, and at the exact same time, they have the corresponding thought about you.

Another Excerpt from 99 Honest Dating Tips

Flirtility
(adj). The utility of flirting. E.g. A man who you discover within 10 minutes has a girlfriend or wife would report a negative flirtility factor. It is bad karma to continue with the conversation in all actuality. Annoyingly this person would appear to have self esteem issues in that he is an attached person but still wants to go out and feel the high of pulling a girl and then be unavailable, forcing a win win situation selfishly only for himself, we do have the confidence to just say no to that situation and refuse to take on the burden of stroking his esteem through a risk and guilt free sexuality massage. Compare with, a high flirtilty factor which is demonstrated when the person is challengingly intelligent, interestingly handsome and you can physically feel the chemistry between the two. 120% flirtility factor. Median flirtility is when you feel the situation is quite neutral. I remember being at Kensington Roof Gardens this summer, and chatting with two men, both of which were nice looking but not hot, but were very smart. I could tell they were sussing out which one of them might be the one to hone in on me properly. But this process took beyond 45 minutes. After the 45 minute mark, we had had a nice conversation, some flirting although limp at that, but it was going nowhere. They were not overly flirting: the flirtility was stagnating, and fast. In these situations, I get impatient and testy. Inner monologue says, and the point is....If my smile is faltering then I feel it is my duty to continue the hunt. I don't like hovering in neutral. I want to go, and have fun. So, I made up an excuse and left the situation. It honestly seems to me that the average flirtility factor is usually where a majority of men (who you meet in bars) hover; and the guys that ask you out tend to have a below average flirtility factor, which is why Miss GL is still single; internet dates are usually lower quartile flirtility factor.Lately I have not had loads of luck in terms of synchronising the flirtility factor with the available to take me out factor. I met a really neat guy on Saturday night by virtue of the rule of Hat Trick effect. Hat trick is a last minute pull that happens during drinking establishment egress. Although I had spotted him, and mentioned to my wingman (will discuss this essential accessory on another post) that I would be interested in talking to him, it wasn't until the pub was closing that we had a conversation which led to going to the next watering hole together. which turned into afterhours with his friends and me getting really trashed on multiple types of alcohol. The lesson is, no matter if this guy ever calls, and (I do want him) to, that perseverance pays off (as my Dad says, but probably never in his conservative mind meaning in this context, love irony she says). Stay to the end boys and girls. De minimus, it may be worth a story, and for me at this point is what life is about.

cheesecake appreciation society

wow. i have not been hungover in awhile. forgot how horrid it can be. thank goodness i don't have much work to do. please let this be the case all day. and a doctor appointment to leave early for....nice friday.

so last night i went out with Sarah from work and we had a late but festive evening. Started off at Automat. serendipitiously,i chose it, as a suprise, because it is a NYC style diner, in the way that Mayfair can do Manhatten, and Sarah and I first started chatting about our mutual love of the island. So i thought if a fun way to begin with some food and drinks. The serendipity part was because she was thinking of suggesting it, but thought that i would not want to b/c it is american. but,we both had been craving to go. andit was fab, with a great atmosphere, very good food, exquisite attention to detail from lighting to cutlery to music. Service was grand provided by Jacques the cute waiter who bless him kept staring at my bared but itty bitty decolatage. Sarah and i also found out we were both founding members of the cheesecake appreciation society. and Automat did not let us down their either. best cheesecake in London. We only had two martinis there. but then we went to 43 South Molton street and had 3 cocktails. they have a great list there. and then we went to Soho Hotel, where we couldn't get in because of a LFF wrap party, so we went to Soho Lounge and had 2 cocktails where we were slightly accosted so we decided to leave.

brief blip though. i think it might have been a fishing expidition to which i provided no food. perhaps another time should our friendship go there. However, found out that she stayed over at Baby's place one night in september (this is the name of guy at work i have/had crush on). This is how it went down. She said, where do you live? And I said, by xyz tube, and then she goes, oh that is right, I know exactly where, I will tell you why…but don't say anything this is how rumours start and I (knowing full well where this was going) say, really, what? And she goes well after our client reception, she was out with the legal team, and we were doing shots, and she and Baby were doing them one after the other, she blacked out, and next thing she knew was waking up on the sofa at his flat. His flatmate was waking her up, she had a towel draped over her she said, and apparently Baby and she were so wasted they had to have the flatmate tell the cabbie how to get them home b/c they couldn't speak. Flatmate said, btw, if you are wondering if you snogged Baby (still asleep in his room supposedly), you didn't…and she says, i felt so embarrassed, because i wasn't sure if we did, it would have been horrible. So then they walked to the tube together, and when passing my door, Baby said, that is where (me) lives…Not sure what to make of the story. But I hate that I care.. my heart didn't drop, but i did have some jitters. Also pathetic that I just wrote a paragraph on it. he maybe on my mind, but i ain't wasting the pretty...

then we got going to Kingly Club (where finally we felt at home, with good music and a chat/gossip worthy crowd... we said "we are home, finally" which is dangerous because that is when we really started drinking. it was midnight) Accordingly, we had loads of cocktails, i was lectured by this idiot about learning the English language properly and adopting the culture of England rather than trying to impose my American culture on it (anyone who knows me knows that he is preaching to the choir, ironically, but he wouldn't shut up for long enough for me to explain it, so i eventually refused to talk to him, which really made him mad), i was latched onto by this Bavarian dude who tried, unsuccesfully to kiss me, and there were these putney boys good for a brief conversation, and finally we shared a cab with these Norwegian trust fund kids, after partied in their flat in Belgravia, spoke russian over vodka shots in digestif glasses that looked like egg cups. We will forever measure our cocktails using the eggcup method. somehow i got home at 4:30. in at work by 10. still flirting with death by hangover.

we are really excited about going out again.

Wild Card Days

Say no to the Gingham shirt boys. just don't do it. it isn't summer. put it in the back of the closet or in a box. Such a fashion pet peeve of mine. and it is excruciating when they are wrinkled too.

How do you define an English boy flirting? when he looks at you for more than a millesecond and then rushes to save my Nivea lipgloss from the offending tiles at the Starbucks till, and again when lingering his glance at me in painfull frustration, as i decide to do him a favour and ask for the skim milk (for my fair trade filter with shot of sugar free hazelnut) which stands ready for action by his elbow. i think he wanted to marry me. too bad they are so shy that they never ask.

My spirits were dismal and grey yesterday. Despite chanting all my blessings that i have and for which i should be uplifted into the realm of happiness, i felt like a black suede shoe that had seen better more fashionable days and whose tip of the kitten heel had been chewed off by a london city street. then, i thought, just give yourself a break. Actually, even if we have lucky and beautiful lives, we can't be happy all the time. And as females, moodiness is about balancing hormones anyway. it is natural and should be left to find its own equilibrium. But how pedantic can i be about this? well, in 365 days of the year, given that i lead an amazing life and am really lucky (touch wood), in theory, genetics aside (and i have some bad genes there) i should be happy a majority of the time. If i was to be happy 4/5ths of the time ( i am quite the VIRGO perfectionist), that is 292 days of confident, sassy happiness exuding from me. That leaves 73 days of the year to be a raging, grumpy, snappy, morose, be-aatch. Theoretically, each of those days i also have an excuse to eat whatever i want and not work out. That means that I have 6 days per month of these days. i shall heretofore name them Wild Card Days. One down, 5 to go!