So I'm Marrying a Mac Geek...

A little reminder for myself, and for anyone who has ever been in over their head.

Pride before the Falls
by M. Findley

One fine day, Lion was walking through the Jungle, when he came to the great and mighty River. It was hard work, being King of the Jungle, he thought, and the River looked cool and inviting, so Lion decided to go for a swim.

Now, Lion had never been swimming before, but since he was King, and was good at everything he did, he assumed he must be good at this, too. So he lept from the bank and landed in the River with a mighty splash.

Of course the water went up his nose and into his ears, and when he finally managed to find the air again he was coughing and spluttering.

"Hello, Your Majesty," called Turtle, from where he was lying on the bank, basking in the sun. "Do you need any help?"

"No!," Lion growled, "I'm just enjoying the cool water." The water was cool, but he wasn't enjoying it, however his pride was wounded and he didn't want Turtle to know.

"Are you sure, Your Majesty? I could show you how to swim."

"Of course, I'm sure! I'm the King!" said Lion, and he bared his teeth at Turtle and growled so fiercely that Turtle was frightened and ducked back inside his shell.

Lion tried walking in the water, and found that his feet almost touched the bottom. If he kept his head tilted as far up as possible, he could still breathe and see. This wasn't so bad, thought Lion, trying not to smile and let the water in his mouth. He knew he'd be good at swimming. Who needed stupid Turtle to teach him anyway? He was King!

So Lion gingerly walked around a bit and then decided he'd had enough and wanted to go back to the bank. Eagerly he set toward it, but discovered that the water grew deeper before it got to the bank, and he could no longer touch the bottom. The current here was stronger, too, and before he knew it, it had swept him away from the shallow water and into the middle of the River.

Frantically, Lion tried to paddle his feet, but it didn't seem to be doing any good.

"You're doing it wrong, Your Majesty," said Duck, who was swimming merrily along, smiling her cheeky smile. "Do you need some help?"

"No!," Lion growled, "I'm doing just fine. I'm just enjoying the beauty of the River." It was beautiful, but Lion couldn't see much of it, since he could barely keep his head above the water. However, his pride was hurt, and he didn't want Duck to know.

"Are you sure, Your Majesty?" asked Duck. "I could should you how to swim."

"Of course, I'm sure!" Lion sputtered. "I'm King!" And he bared his teeth and snapped them at Duck, who was so frightened that she quickly swam away.

What did Duck know, anyway, Lion thought. She had only two legs, and he had four. So thinking, Lion tried to imitate the way Duck had been swimming, and found that at least this way he could keep his head above the water. This wasn't so bad, thought Lion. See, he knew he'd be good at this, after all, he was King.

The water was moving faster now, though, as he went farther down river, and there were logs and rocks in his way. It was hard for him to manuever around them, and he soon found that he was bruised and battered from being knocked up against them.

"Hello, Your Majesty," called Monkey from the trees along the side of the river. "Do you need some help?"

"No," panted Lion, "I'm just surveying the River. We really ought to clean it up here." And with that he slammed into another rock and got a fresh bruise on his thigh. However, his pride was hurt more than his body, and he didn't want Monkey to know.

"Are you sure, Your Majesty?" asked Monkey. "My brothers and I could pull you out, if you want."

"Of course I'm sure!" Lion growled. "I'm King!" And he roared so loudly that Monkey was frightened and scampered back into the trees.

What could Monkey do, anyway, thought Lion. Monkeys can't swim.

Up ahead, the water was getting rougher, and the rocks getting more and more frequent. Oh no, thought Lion. A waterfall! Frantically he tried to swim for shore, but he was too tired and battered, and it was getting harder and harder to keep his head above the water. In his struggle, however, he managed to wrap his paws around a rock, and clung to it with all of his might. But his strength was waning and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on.

"I see," thought Lion, "how it is. When I'm doing just fine, everyone wants to butt their heads in, but when I'm really in trouble, they all desert me."

"Hello, your Majesty," said Fish, scaring Lion so badly he almost let go of the rock. "Do you need some help?"

"What does it bloody look like?" growled Lion, baring his teeth. Fish's eyes grew wide and she darted back up river. Lion sighed. What could Fish do anyway?

He was wet and cold and tired and bruised, and the current was tugging at him so hard he feared he'd lose his grip. Everyone had deserted him, and he was feeling very sorry for himself indeed. Just then, Fish returned.

"I've brought help!" she cried. "Hold on just a little longer!" Surprised, Lion looked up at the bank to see Monkey and his brothers forming a long chain, and Turtle and his brothers making stepping stones for them to get across to where Lion waited. Duck flew over head, calling out instructions, and before too long, they hauled a wet, tired, and throughly shamefaced Lion from the River.

The other animals grinned, but they didn't laugh, and Lion thanked all of them for helping him out. Sheepishly he admitted that his pride had been hurt, and that was why he'd chased then away. He promised, in the future, that when he was in something over his head, he would listen to advice, rather than insisting on learning the hard way. "After all," he said, looking at the faces of those who had rescued him, "even a King needs friends."

In preparation for the wedding I decided that it might be time for me to seriously think about losing some weight.

By "seriously thinking" I mean: telling myself repeatedly that I should go grocery shopping for some healthier food, and that, no, a market fresh sandwich from Arby's doesn't count. Especially not with mayo on it. And bacon. And curly fries. And a pepsi.

I think about these things VERY seriously.

But like Alice, while I might give myself very good advice, I very seldom follow it.

Then there's the matter of exercise. To put it bluntly: I don't. My life could be measured by the chairs I sit in. Exercise is something that other people do. I don't understand aerobics, can't get excited about jogging, can't afford a gym, and have no room in my apartment for an exercise bike or treadmill. I don't like walking or riding bikes alone, and I have no one to go with me. So... what's a girl to do?

I got a video game.

Well, John got me a video game, at my request.

Dance, Dance Revolution is supposed to be a great way to get some exercise and lose weight. Since it's a video game, I know I'll play it, because, well, I like video games. I like the challenges they present, and it's far more interactive than a treadmill. Lots of people have lost weight playing DDR.

This was supposed to be fun.

They forgot to mention, in the little warning thingies at the beginning of the game, that along with the possibility of straining a muscle or your eyes or epilepsy or whatever, there's another side effect.

Blind, incoherent rage.

Road Rage meets video games.

There I am, frantically stamping my feet on the stupid arrows and a stream of curse words are filing out from between my clenched teeth, inventively detailing exactly how I'd like to beat the skinny, anime 3D chick in the hotpants who is currently gyrating on screen to a bloody, boneless pulp.

My hips do not move like that. My feet do not seem to know the difference between up and down, right and left. My arms are not waving around in time to the music, but instead are clenched in Lord of the Dance fists at my sides, blood threatening to start welling from the places where I've gouged my nails into my palms.

This, I think, is fun. (C'mere you little cartoon bitch and I'll break your skinny legs in twenty pieces...)

Coordination is something that belongs to other people, (something I keep telling John, though he refuses to listen). We'll see how he feels during our first dance... when I'm cursing a blue streak behind my grin and stepping on his feet in high heels.