This afternoon, while I was still at the gym, I deactivated the profile Rachel generously helped me make almost a year ago on the site I'll facetiously call "Midwestern State Matchmaking". Other than my LDC, who has since disappeared from my email inbox, I hadn't seen anyone there in whom I was vaguely interested, though I continued to receive "hey, little lady, you're cute" messages from fat old men every week or so. Ick. I know we all age, and that many of us have girth bigger than ideal, but if anybody's the older, fatter person in a relationship, it ought to be ME! :-)
It's devilishly hard to burn paper, or leastways to set alight a stack of financial reports (from back when I had finances) when one's trusty shredder is kaput. I'm a paper-keeper by nature, but I am tired of holding on to irrelevant computer-generated material, so I pulled the monthly investment statements from my file boxes that dated back to the last century (!) and resolved to destroy them. The shredder did good service for several hundred pages, (recyclable giblets) and then went into permanent red light status that no amount of coaxing would change. So I decided to spend Memorial Day barbecuing the rest. Oil didn't catch fire, matches wouldn't light, and a handful of charcoal briquettes just lay there inert. I finally poured rubbing alcohol over everything and set in ablaze with a lighter, but it took a full six hours for everything to cook into indecipherable grey ash curls. Happily, I made it through the process with only one scorched finger, and provided the present strong thunderstorm doesn't fry me whole in the shower, I am going to scoot upstairs to get properly cleaned up before bed.