Debbie Does Drivel

Boredom abounds.
Nothing excites.

I am the type of person who fixates on projects or diets or hobbies or activities for brief interludes, then grows tired of the thing and abandons it like a cheap harlot.
I was a hiker for a while there. Bought a pack, boots, and maps of the region. Researched routes, threw impromptu hiking groups together, and fantasized of muscular calves.
Never used the pack, and have hiked one -- maybe two -- of the mapped trips. I've since moved on.

Then, I was a runner. Had my feet measured, determined if I pronated or supinated, and timed a few warm-up walk/runs. Truth be told, I never ran continuously for more than 5 minutes. The odometer watch and jog-proof CD player sit in an over-stuffed coffee table drawer.

E-Bay obsessed me. Day in, day out, I surfed the auction listings like Patrick Swayze in "Point Break." Now, it's just a bunch of con artists trying to make a quick buck off defective merchandise.

I've transversed the fad diet landscape -- moving from high-protein to potatoes-only to all-natural to no-wheat to just-juice. Currently, I am Somersizing. But if one more homemade tortilla or hash brown stares me down like Gary Cooper in High Noon, I'll move on to the Carbohydrate Addicts eating plan.

Of course, I'm also very into similizing at the moment. A good simile is like a website without pop-up ads: smooth and unfettered like a baby's brow or like ice cream made with full-fat milk and eight cups of sugar or Debbie without neurotic obsessions...

Like I said, boring.