I was joking just this morning with my mother that the both of us tend to navigate by landmarks, not names and numbers. Moreover, some of the landmarks we use don't exist anymore--we turn at the corner where an old shopping center no longer stands, we go to places which sit next to a vanished church building, and when we refer to places by names, they are oftentimes names which have been officially replaced for twenty or more years. "The lake," for example, will always be Clarks Hill, though the South Carolinians managed to rechristen it Lake Thurmond when I was in high school.
I thought this sort of navigation was a mainly feminine characteristic, but I think it may instead be generally Southern. Having dug up my car title at long last from the boxed heaps of papers upstairs and downstairs in my new house, I toddled (or waddled--more on that in a bit) off to where I thought the licensing bureau was to get new credentials. Unfortunately, it turns out there are two offices one must visit in succession, and the driver's license bureau (which is closed Mondays), at which I must needs call first, is now located away from the vehicle registration bureau, where I must go second. I asked for directions to the former from a very cordial man at the tax office, and he told me it was next door "to where Omni Fitness used to be". Thank God, before they built their own sanctuary, my parents' old church used to meet nearby, so I knew where that was!
I am the porkiest I've ever been. I went to Gold's with Mums yesterday and she shimmied up the knotless rope hung from the 30' ceiling a couple of times, did weights while I was wiggling on the elliptical trainer, and then beckoned me over for ab work. It's really sad what a total marshmallow I am. I did go up to the next jean size--there was no help for it, as I vouldn't button the others. I don't think I would feel so intolerably heavy if I had had the excuse of childbearing, but I haven't, and I do. I really hope Mums will whip me back into shape once I'm here for good and all--right now, I am lamentably voluptuous, to use a charitable term. I want a flat tummy and a less bubbly butt, 'cause right now I possess the physique of a weeble-wobble (one of those weighted-bottom childhood toys that rights itself when it gets knocked over).