Reading: Margaret George, Mary Queen of Scotland and the Isles and The God of Small Things. The latter is taking me a while because on the rare days I get to sit on my bus commute, I doze.

Viewing: Toy Story 2!

Moving: A full weight circuit and 100 crunches and five minutes on a treadmill at 4 mph and an elevation of 5, whatever that means.

Learning: about male gynecologists.

28 January 2000: Toy Story 2

Yesterday morning on the news I heard that the State of the Union address would be yesterday night. Grrr. Isn't it always on a Tuesday? When it snowed Wednesday I decided I would go to the movie Thursday night and tape ER. I knew if I taped the State of the Union, however, I'd never watch it. I like to be at least aurally present for such things, especially when it's WJC's last. All the Denver Sidewalk movie listings showed "Toy Story 2"'s last day as the 28th. Would I never see it? Would I have to wait for the video?

And then I got a cunning plan.

Last week I asked if I could take a 90 minute lunch by working a half hour later every afternoon, on a permanent basis, and CoolBoss, being cool, said okayfine. Yesteday I asked, "May I work a half hour late today?"
CoolBoss looked at me. I could tell she was thinking I must be insane if I needed that much time at the gym. "Just today? Or from now on?"
"Just for today." I was already grinning and loopy. "I want to go see 'Toy Story 2.'"
That was fine.

So I went to the 12:05 showing of "Toy Story 2" downtown and had a splendiferous time. I got a box of Junior Mints and a small Sprite (they don't go well together, so you have to eat all the candy first and then drink the soda). I took a middle seat in the front row. I threw my feet over the railing. I took my hair pin out so I could lean my head back. There were three other people in the audience. It was all mine.

That is the best movie ever.

I say that now. In a couple of days I'll be calm again and back to shoving "The Philadelphia Story," "Shakespeare in Love," "Brazil," and "Wings of Desire" down the throats of anyone foolish enough to come near me, but for right now, "Toy Story 2" is the best movie ever.

I read somewhere that the characters have an internal flaw: Buzz Lightyear had to be taught he's a toy, not a space hero, in the first movie, so how is it that Woody had no self-awareness of his origins? I think self-awareness (or self-importance) is part of the toy's personality. Buzz has always been just a leetle conceited and ready to be a tragic hero and arrogant and all that--kind of like Bigwig, maybe--while Woody, in his original design, had an simple and altruistic soul. So I would argue Buzz's conviction that he was the next Spaceman Spiff was part of his original design, like the lasers that don't work and the cleft drawn on his chin, while Woody was just happy to be Woody.

And I loved all the jokes the toys made about their own limitations and abilities. And of course technically this movie 's much more advanced than the first. It's super.

I had such a good time. A super movie plus the guilt of indulging in a nooner with a box of candy instead of accelerating my heart rate and maxing out my muscles--I was slaphappy drunk for the rest of the day and a vision of productivity for the next three hours.

---

Today, I went to the gym. Not for very long, because I had a gyn appointment. I think it's more important for me to exercise aerobically, but I'd already done more than my Greg-Dictated minimum 3x25' a week aerobic already yet lacked my third weight circuit so that's what I did. Should I already be increasing resistance? Because I am. On some, not all, the machines. I hope I'm using the Pull-Down weight right. That's the one that'll give me the channel down my back and enable me to butterfly, I think.

And then I went to the gynecologist. What a treat to get away from Kaiser. The only disadvantage is that all my doctors are no longer centralized in one convenient location, but that's the advantage as well, that they're not working so directly under the aegis of the HMO. Everything was professional. The desk clerk was polite, the nurse kind, and the doctor competent.

I mean, I assume he was competent. He seemed competent. But he was a he, the first time I've had a male for a gyn exam. All my gyns--all nurse practitioners up to now (including at Kaiser)--have been female. One I knew to be lesbian. That didn't bother me. This man was married (if I can assume by the left-hand ring) and a father (if I can assume by the cutesy plaque on the wall) so I assume he was straight. I could have a gay man and that would still bother me. It's not the sexual orientation but the gender I mind. This was my first gynecological exam ever where the person didn't warn me "Okay I'm going to shove this steel contraption into your favorite orifice now." Planned Parenthood offices in Old Saybrook, Willimantic, and New London, Connecticut, and in Denver, and the UConn infirmary, and Kaiser--not exactly top-shelf care any of them. But they--women all--knew that a person likes to have warning. This was the first time since I was 18 and having my first that I had to will myself to relax so the speculum could get in and he could do the manual exam.

And he was old. Ophthalmologists and optometrists may be old, should be old. This guy looked over 70. That's too old for his specialty. Well, maybe not. You want your eye doctors to be able to see but a gynecologist could still somewhat function blind. Of course, maybe he wasn't really that old.

Maybe he just looked older than he was because he reeked like the worst sort of smoker.

I didn't worry anymore about my feet in their stirrups possibly being stinky. He had committed the offense first, and worse, and his sense of smell was probably severely impaired anyway. I fooled around a couple of times eight years ago with a smoker, but he didn't reek like that and I knew before I kissed him what I was getting into. My selection process here was to choose a doctor who was geographically convenient, had an appointment available before next Friday, and answered the phone. None of those three criteria had come together for any of the female gynecologists on my list. All I wanted was a prescription for Trilevlen-28. What I got was felt up and down by Mr. Butts.

---

Anyway, that's over with. By next year I'll have found a premenopausal female and be much happier. And RDC came home a day earlier than expected. And I'm going to meet Jenn tomorrow. And Mary Stewart is about to marry Bothwell. So I'm having a good night overall.