September 2004 Archives

run #3.

was gonna bike tonight, but running involves less gear hauled out my door. plus, it takes half as long.

had fewer rests and set a more realistic pace.

my formerly-injured parts are kinda sore now, but i can't say whether they're re-injured until tomorrow. doesn't feel like it, but i'm not happy that my tendons/ligaments/thingies would be sore after a run.

listened to the debates while pounding the pavement. nope, nixon didn't win. but i can surely see how some folks might think he did. god, kerry's such a schlong.

# you don't like that i call perl from within perl? bite me.

As President Bush and John Kerry prepare for their first debate tonight, NPR News Analyst Cokie Roberts says body language may have as much to do with winning as what the candidates say.

finally! i did some deads back in ps when my knee was more gimply, and i think that actually set my recovery back by a couple days. bleh.

this time, though, i was ready for em. i am beginning to admit that my knee injury was possibly caused or exacerbated by deadlifting with shoes on. so back to barefoot, the way god intended them to be done.

as i was setting down my warmup set, it occurred to me that i planned to wear my white pants today, and of course, white pants and deadlifts do not mix.

the solution:

tape is too expensive to do this again. no worries, once i get back on the wagon, the skin will toughen up. hooah!

didn't i go around telling people i couldn't grow a mustache?

i guess i was wrong. looks like time for another trip, jebus! the instant this thing turns black and stops making me look 10lbs lighter, it's history.

there used to be only one condition for removal. it's growing on me!

oh my, I kill me.

i think this is funny.

or at least nicely drawn.

bow down before the well-traveled me!

manager: would you like to have a bite of the poo sangwich, or the crap sangwich? you must pick one.
me: poo sangwich, i guess, if i have to pick.
manager: are you happy with this choice?
me: uh... i guess?
manager: you're hard to read.

it doesn't have to be good, it just has to be written.

short story #3

what's it about? i've given up trying to predict.

i'm sure it's been done before by another writer or ten, but that isn't gonna stop me from doing it.

jesterday in between segments of fresh air, i heard a badass song that i half-recognized. it was ennio morricone's "man with the harmonica", one of the themes from sergio lenone's "once upon a time in the west," a movie i liked only the second time i sat through all 3-4 hours.

except it wasn't just the theme, it was a slightly techno remix of the song.

couple minutes of googling and i find that apollo 440 did a remix of this song. a minute more and i find there's a whole album of morricone remixes. throw a couple bucks to the russian mob and i've got the whole thing. score!

but since then i've just had the one song on repeat. zoooooooooooooone.

i bought applesauce the other day. i eat applesauce when i'm sick. i didn't open it, and now i'm not sick anymore.

anyone want some applesauce?

advil free so far!

i think the knee just needed to be squatted on.

the part that's been sore to the touch is still sore to the touch. dunno what that means. means i shouldn't touch it, i guess. more than that? i guess i'll wait and see.

yeah!

on account of the cold, i did 4 sets with warmup weights. it's probably good that i had the cold, otherwise i would have tried to squat my max or something retarded like that. crunch!

then i did 3 sets of sldls to balance things out.

followed by 3 sets of calf raises. i haven't done those in months, since the first time i tried them on my rig, which resulted in a week long funny walk. this time, i rigged up the design i came up with last time (I make it sound complicated, heh, it involves: 2 washcloths, some tape, and a block of wood) and it worked. light weight + low reps = no funny walk, i hope. only problem is that for CRs i walk the booth in the opposite direction from squats - and since i should be able to CR way more than squats, it might get awkward.

dls tomorrow? we'll see.

seems the only way for me to break the 7am barrier is to go to sleep with a cold.

tragically, i still had to get up 7 or 8ish today, because i'm gonna squat, dammit.

and, the cold gave me unpleasant dreams. i want my money back!

linky

especially the porn

okay, they probably weren't talking about advil

i thought i could go without today, but i guess not.

my theory: if i feel pain, it's inflammation, and the nsaids will cut down the inflammation to speed up healing. it's worked so far. i couldn't care less about the acute pain, i just want it to fargen heal.

healed or not, tho: squats tomorrow.

That's it, i've merged in the beach-edits to gnostic robot jesus, which means it's "finished". i even ran a spell checker. i ran MS word's grammar check half way through, but got tired of screaming "that's not bad grammar, it's style, mofo!" and gave up.

comments, criticism, etc. most definitely welcome.

A radiation overdose had killed himwhile he was retrofitting a production facility.

ed: ha ha ha, what?

"retrofitting a production facility"

i have no idea what this means, but it sounds like it means something, right? right. changed.

i'm skipping it today.

i never ever skip, even when sick. what's wrong with me?

yeah, the cold. and i'm not taking any ibu today, unless really needed. so i can use not lifting as an excuse for resting. but come on.

tomorrow, i'm squatting, cold or no cold, knees or no knees.

i'm skipping it today.

i never ever skip, even when sick. what's wrong with me?

yeah, the cold. and i'm not taking any ibu today, unless really needed. so i can use not lifting as an excuse for resting. but come on.

tomorrow, i'm squatting, cold or no cold, knees or no knees.

as i mentioned, went to a beach today. it was my third time to this one, and it's relatively uncrowded as bay area beaches go.

it was cold and windy and i didn't feel like sticking around much longer than i had to. if i didn't already have a cold, i would fear catching one.

but i did end up with one photo that didn't totally suck.

made it to my editing beach. took 280-85-17-1 instead of 92-1, and i think it probably took the same amount of time, but i wasn't SIG at any point as i would have been 92-1.

it was cold and windy. windy, mostly, but in the end i left because of the cold.

but not before i'd edited all 40 fargen pages of GRJ. I realize that I actually enjoy editing. not sure if i'd enjoy editing other people's stuff. the really cool thing is that i didn't need as much as i thought. i justified keeping the vr lounge, which i thought i might have to cut. i did cut out some of the door conversations, which were HHGTTG ripoffs anyhow. as with tilt, it didn't turn out at all how i had planned - not even remotely. on the other hand, at least the title still makes sense.

now, the only problem is: what next?

i've got some ideas, but the one i'm leaning toward will be... unpleasant. it's about a white supremecist and maybe a revolution and secession. could get ugly. no, it will get ugly.

linky

saw it last night. now it's on my top ten. wow.

i recognized the ps2 game that Ed was playing just from the sfx, before they showed it on screen. ha ha ha.

so many subtle, clever references (like the one to 28 days later, ho ho ho).

pool cues, oh my.

white lines, ha ha ha ha! sing along!

first draft of GRJ is finally FINALLY finished. gonna print it out, then me and matt damon are gonna hang out on a beach and edit the facker.

i'd advise waiting to read it until 2nd draft is ready.

19,000 words. hfs

ugh. contractions, possessives, and plurals - no pattern.

no problem for me, but I can see why english is a bitch to learn as a second language.

oatmeal is way better made with milk!

why wasn't I told??

7am, up and at em, no matter what time i go to bed.

fargen internal clock.

affleck needs his beauty sleep, dammit!

linky

where better to recover from a cold, allergies, a busted knee, an unfinished story, and a trimmed mustache than... that's right... the beach.

taking a jacket this time, i think. unless i come up with a better plan before then.

the mustache is a bit uneven, as is the beard.

i've never really trimmed a beard before, hope i don't fux it up.

it's pleasing to go into a place like peets - which, a year ago, i thought made the best coffee possible - and realize that i can make much much better coffee.

and it's funny hearing a customer argue with the "barista" about how the "barista" is doing stuff wrong, and know that the customer is absolutely right but still a fuckin moron for arguing with a HSer.

ho ho ho. so, when shall i return to roasting? soon's i ditch this cold, which may not even really be a cold. fack. i hate my sinuses. need a sinusectomy.

arrived home just now from my 2pm coffee date. laughed all the way home. got out of my car and found a fiver on the ground.

it's been that kinda day. oh yes.

i am pretty sure i took this test thingy once or twice in the past. it looks like i'm consistent.

i am still gandhi/the dalai lama/nelson mandela.

/me waves to GWB and ariel sharon.

a little sleep provides a lot of clarification.

HURD is indeed the appropriate name of the character.

while it is true that pilate presided over the crucifixion, the position held by HURD is more similar to Herod's post than Pilate's.

trust your instincts, luke.

especially the futurama quote

at peet's, no less. the nearest good coffee place i know of is in santa clara but that's a drive for the both of us.

what does one order at a coffee place to prolong conversation? i normally drink espresso, but that takes about 15 seconds to consume. bah! well, at least i'll have something to talk about. i can get all "comic book guy" on the person pulling shots. "oh. oh. oh! they did NOT just do that! cold portafilter! No tamp! worst. shot. ever!"

so i had what i thought was a fantastic idear.

a character named HURD, to fill the role of the dude what condemns robbie to his fate.

HURD, similar to Herod.

HURD, as in the GNU HURD, a total geek joke, appropriate for a scifi story.

then some wiseacre pointed out that it was pilate, not herod, that i was thinking of.

dammit!

meeting the wocka wocka respondant for coffee, sight unseen!

cold called her and set it up.

take that, shyness! take that, doesn't like to meet people! take that, doesn't do spontaneous, crazy stuff!

i promised to wear an orange shirt so she could pick me out of a crowd. i think i have one left...

so, driving down the road a couple weeks ago, i look at myself in the mirror, and i says "self, i think you look like someone. you know who i mean, and i won't mention his name, because we both don't like him."

then last night i showed my foto to an ex-coworker and out of the blue, he said "hey, now you look like X", where X was the same as the above unnamed someone.

so today in work, i mentioned to the boss that the ex thought i looked like someone, and he got it right on the second guess.

just to see if i could get some unanimity, i polled one more coworker. 1st guess.

that's right, i'm this guy, dammit!

even with water retention.

last weigh-in before 6-day vacation: 203
on the scale tuesday morning, first weigh-in after vacation: 214
just now: 204

and this is with nothing but bench presses and curls and good chinese food. no cardio or squats. what the dillyo?

feel like crap and i don't care
runnin out of clean underwear

zinc is bogus and i don't have a cold
allergies getting mighty old

sound off
one two
sound off
ah choo

cannot squat with wobbly knee
but at least i can still stand and pee

biking's out and i cannot run
a G rated webcam? where's the fun?

sound off
one two
sound off
ah choo

etc.

i haven't played with my balisong in a long time (you can take that to mean whatever you'd like). but i picked it up today and started fiddling with it (you can take that to mean whatever you'd like, also). took me about 1 try to regain proficiency with the basic open and the basic whirly whirly. so then i tried with the "toss in the air" opening method, which requires that at one point or another, the sharp edge of the blade faces the knuckle (unlike the regular basic open, where the dull edge faces the knuckle at all times).

so, i get either cut knuckles (if i do it right) or severed toes (if i drop it). huzzah!

no dreams involving prophylactics and no solution to all my problems, but i did manage to wake up with SARS.

i want my money back!

so the knee is getting betterish, but now i've got some kinda throat and sinus disease. argh!

wrote myself into a corner.

---
What do we do with it now?" asked Marcus.

"That's a good question. We can't leave it here, it might get reactivated."
---

..... okay... so what the hell do we do with it? I don't freaking know! Argh! And it's not even that important to the plot, but I gotta answer the question, because we really can't just leave it there.

so far:

2 separate posts, 1 reply each.

wocka wocka wocka! gonna keep reposting that one, it's a winner.

plus, it's got its own special gmail account. winner!

haven't had a banana in a long time. had one this morning. burp! banana burps are much more pleasant than fish oil burps.

so i've been using american crew styling products, because that's what they gave me in the salon. i don't have any of them in front of me so the weights may be off in absolute terms, but not in relative terms. here's the lowdown:

styling lotion : what they originally gave me. not on the website, as far as i could tell. 12 bucks for about 8oz. good hold, not a whole lot of shine. rub the hair to disable the effect, hair feels kinda normal. smells nice.

styling gel, firm hold : 12oz for 10 bucks. colonel's extra crispy recipe. when rubbed out, hair feels kinda sticky icky. firm hold, as advertised. about as shiny as the lotion. smells like a pepsi commercial waiting to happen.

fiber : 10 bucks for about 4 oz, holy crap! unfortunately, this is the stuff i like best. good hold, but not crinkly. how does it do that? magic. tragically, when rubbed out, the hair is extra extra thick (my hair is thick enough already) and kinda... gunky. not sticky icky, but just a little unnatural and creepy. did i mention this stuff is expensive? smells nice, though. i think it's the beeswax or something. time for a buzzzzzz.

so, because it was just that kinda dream, i needed some prophylactics. the mook volunteered to make some for me. he got out his rolling pin and began rolling out some dough, then used a cookie cutter to slice them into appropriately shaped (albeit not appropriately depth-ed) circles.

"no thanks, mrs. fields," i told him, "i'll just go buy some"

hahahaha!

linky

thanks to CL I can meet cool people from the comfort of my own couch, for free. and thanks to you (that's Y-o-u with a capital Y, ho ho ho), i wasn't afeared to call her up. turns out she's a she and not a s/he, whew! that's "tom" as in "tomboy". whew again.

crazy? possible. not for me? also possible. so what?

linky

so i grabbed the doom3 demo against my better judgement. i likes. i likes a lot. even on my crappy hardware with my crappy fps skills. yes, it's scaring the crap out of me like everyone says. now i'm gonna buy it and bid adyew to another 2 months of my life. bah!

resist!

i'm even remembering my old DOOM 1 knowledge:

- those fireball guys really really suck
- whenever your health is > 1, f5. f5!! do it! don't forget!

and some new doom 3 knowledge:

- oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap!!!!

axed the dude at work.

no, babe, that's just my natural color

awwwww yeaaah.

unfortunately, it's still scraggly looking. if it didn't have a cool color, it'd be gone by now. gonna give it a week or two more.

argh! GRJ just keeps getting longer and longer. 16k words now, and i'm worried that i won't be able to keep it under 20k.

i think i've done a decent job of tying up some of the looser ends that i put in toward the beginning - maybe, maybe not.

but, and here's the ugly part. so far the story spans three days. we've just woken up on day #3. I'm to the point where I probably need a "days turned into weeks, and weeks into months", but that's fargen lame. can i compress a month's worth of stuff into one day?

sure, why not.

oh, that's easy for you to say. you gonna tell me how?

no.

marcus needed a last name a couple weeks back, so i gave him one, more or less at random.

last night i became worried that i might have misnamed him, so i tried to think of a more fitting name on the plane until i could check out the one i had already given him.

as it happens, the name i already gave him is exactly what i wanted. score 1 for my subconscious!

but i'm off by a couple months

darn.

this?

so last night when the plane was taking off, I was listening (against captain's orders, bad bad me!) to my mp3 player, at which point I heard this:

I’ll fly, I’ll fly home
I’ll fly home and I’ll fly home

coooool

it's a "new me" thing, I guess. i pay attention to lyrics. even cheesy 80s pop lyrics. like the following that I heard on the radio today, evidently by the thompson twins :

and i don't understand just what i'm doing to myself
i guess that's nothing new
cos when you meet someone who doesn't follow all the rules
it changes everything you do

ho ho ho.

it ain't me
i ain't no fortunate one, no

infected mushroom isn't all bad, i was just listening to the wrong album.

still, they're no hallucinogen. although, as with shpongle, even hallucinogen is no hallucinogen, sometimes. meh. why can't i find a band that never puts out a crappy album? and I mean you, red elvises! damn your pathetic disco/techno experimental album!

so, i'm poking around in my old room and come across a fat manilla envelope entitled "Mike letters Cal Poly 9/95-6/99"

turns out my awesome mom printed out and archived EVERY SINGLE EMAIL I sent to the fam while I was in college. I'm reading through them now and my funnybone is so tickled I may have to increase my advil intake even further.

I've transcribed the better ones, slowly, fixing only the typos that totally impede readability, and probably inserting new typos.

Anyhow, they're linked from the schlock archive page, with a short intro, or you can use this direct link

Names have been abbreviated to protect the innocent.

enjoy!

bad news: all this desert living (eating out all the time, sitting around talking, no exercise) is increasing my waistline at a disturbing pace

good news: my beard is coming in, and it's red! i had forgotten that i grow a red beard. well, red isn't quite right. auburn? it's a lot like this.

i can:

1) deadlift a respectable amount of weight for a respectable number of reps : yes
2) cycle around in the desert sun up respectable hills for a respectable length of time : yes
3) walk 10 feet : no

what??

meh. they're no shpongle. in fact, even shpongle is no shpongle. "are you shpongled?" bleh.

my investments are back up! when did that happen? the market's going up again? huzzah!

/me polishes his monocle

syn

also linked and summarized on the schlock archive page - which also has links to my horrid poetry, while you're there, if you are there.

me ma thinks that all the notes i've been taking lately are transcriptions of all the stuff she's saying, that i will later post on my blog.

what was it that carly simon said?

"you're so vain, I bet you think this blog is about you..."

kidding! love you ma!

went to me paw's gym

they don't have anything suitable for bench presses, so i had to use some funky hammer machine that couldn't decide whether it was a pec or a shoulder machine, even though it had no incline. bleh. but other than that, i was able to go through my normal routine.

i found a dusty old neglected olybar in some corner away from the shiney machines, was even able to scrape up enough weight to do some deadlifts! i bet those were the first deads ever lifted in that gym. didn't put enough weight on to grunt, though, on account of the knee. still: hooah!

man, once i get started, the blah blah blah doesn't stop.

took some notes about what i was thinking/feeling during RH services yesterday. transcribed and expounded. now i'm at 2k words with no end in sight. bleh.

concision is what I need!

soopahviv: yeah shave the head!
soopahviv: hahaha
maury_cohen: hell with that
maury_cohen: my head's lumpy and unattractive
maury_cohen: and that's the part without the hair!

we all know that fear is failure

but what of fear of wasting time?

do i undergo a long long (possibly long long long long) term endeavor with only a small chance of success? and if my reason for not doing so is the small chance of success, have i failed because of fear, or have i simply avoided wasting precious time?

from sunny palm springs, ca

in bed by 3am. hooray. knee is boned. bleh. at least the folks have wireless.

(22:48) <bigboote> > take room key
(22:48) <bigboote> > Taken.
(22:48) <bigboote> > take advil
(22:48) <bigboote> > Taken.
(22:48) <bigboote> > squat
(22:49) <bigboote> > your bones explode. you have died. would you like to see your score?

so here i am, stuck in the fargen airport, about to carry on a conversation with a random other person also stuck in the airport that I found via CL and am communicating with via gmail, and what happens?

gmail goes down.

huzzah!

flight 837! go team!

their flight was delayed since 5pm

people with later flights are leaving before them

they're fackin pissed

airline is trying to do some customer service, but failing

bleh

i normally drive

i thought i'd fly this time for a change

radar is down for flights headed to southern california (hey, *i* am headed to southern california!) so i'm stuck in this smelly airport for an extra 3 hours.

my knee hurts because it was already busted but then i hustled to the terminal because i thought i was late.

they've got wireless, at least, and i have my laptop (obviously) but nobody that i'd like to talk to is online.

bah.

maybe i'll just go browse some porn.

to keep track of all the exiting "new me" related crap going on around here.

it's got a todo list, check it out

okay, so maybe this wasn't such a solid plan, after all. my bones did explode, now i've got a sore knee and an ibuprofen wallet drain. soon i shall have an ulcer.

i refreshed my memory today on why i don't like going to the doctor: wait 48 minutes to get 4 minutes with the doc, who tells me what i already know: i'll be fine, keep on doing what i'm doing, it was probably the skating and not the running. bleh.

so now i'll be limping through the airport this evening, and they'll probably flag me as a terrorist and i really haven't packed anything that's appropriate for cuban weather.

[22:30] <SpU> cause life is like a shit sandwich
[22:30] <SpU> the more bread you got, the less shit you gotta eat

during a meeting with folks that hadn't seen it yet, we arrived, they commented, i got a unanimous thumbs up (huzzah). the meeting began. several minutes in, the class clown of the meeting asked - in front of my manager - "you're interviewing?"

ho ho ho.

then afterwards, he told me he had figured out what I looked like now: a republican.

crap.

1) how can i not link to this?

2) who reads my blog and also cares about futurama? nobody, that's who

2b) who reads my blog and also cares about futurama and also realizes that "nobody, that's who" is a futurama reference? nobody, that's who

sometimes life throws me a big fucking lemon
too big to fit into my juicer
people's democratic republic of yemen
i must use it or toss it, it's a mold producer

throwing it out is a waste of creation
my knives are quite sharp and they're all self-made
national aeronautics and space administration
chopslice chopchop, if only i liked lemonade

(with thanks to Father Gregory Boyle)

in a pit of stagnation and anguished repression
at once both chimeral and real
you inspired movement that i might reach out my arm
with optimism, to grasp an ideal

my eyes in the sky, my eyes in the mirror
i refused to set them ahead
swept up in my own sea of blind optimism
evading reality, dreaming instead

now my ideal is unveiled as whimsical fancy
and i find myself sliding back into my tomb
yet from the heights to which i had to ascend
the gulf is much wider between me and my doom

and from this position i've gained a new vision
perspective from outside my self-styled plight
it is not a pit, i see now it's a tunnel
and at the end i have seen there is light

1 allegra, 2 advils.

i hate pills.

i don't like the idea that i need adjustment to be right.

linky

i'm discovering lots of things this week, about life, myself, people. i'm finding out that many of my assumptions were untrue, many of the things i'd always been doing were wrong, many of the things i took for granted were not sure things.

chief among these revalations:

it turns out that my shaver operates best on just-out-of-the-shower skin. all this time i thought i had to be dry!

now i know.

so shut the hell up already, will you?

got maybe 1 hour, in 5 minute shifts.

this might be harder than i anticipated. we'll see.

science fiction is the art of answering the question "what if?"

i am living science fiction.

what if i were more social?
what if i dated?
what if i changed my appearance?
what if i became a runner?
what if i stopped biting my nails?
what if i skated?
what if i bowled?
what if i got a job i liked?

what if i knew that some people find me interesting?

an avenue of what-ifs has just been closed off to me. i can be depressed about it, or i can recognize that several new avenues of what-if have just opened.

what if i walked down one of them?

instead of "she's got bleeding gums, dammit!" i can say "we're just friends"

that was rather p/a of me, wasn't it?

sorry, i'm working on that.

now THIS i recognize. i had nearly forgotten.

bring it on, fuckers.

it would probably help if i didn't do my 2nd running session 2 days after my first ever, and 1 day after my long anticipated return to ice skating.

probably.

i'm guessing i won't be squatting as planned, tomorrow. ouch.

went to the allergist yesterday, and although there was some mixup with the freezers which resulted in me not getting my shot (crikey!), they did notice that i'd changed my do. We agreed that a new file picture was in order. I got to keep the old one. It's dated 9/19/00, almost exactly 4 years ago.

it's pre-deadlift, that's for damn sure.

moo!

what do you do if you've got a sore forearm from a squatting accident, and a sore everything else (but especially hip flexors) from running followed by skating?

that's right, deadlifts.

oooh yeah. did em in shoes, too, for a change. failed to set a new PR, alas. gravity kicked in about an inch off the floor. next time.

much to noone's surprise, ice skating (for the first time in many years, no less) is not an effective method for recovering from running-related soreness.

but, who cares?

the old plan: carefully arrange exercise sessions to avoid soreness and "overtraining"

the new plan: screw all that. bike, run, skate, lift, jump, KB (not really a verb, so what) and keep adding new stuff until the bones explode and it stops being fun.

this whole thread is a gold mine.

linky

linky

other guys have to learn to dance. i went on a skate date. i'm one lucky dude.

unless it turns out she likes to dance, then i'm boned like everyone else.

dreampt i was living in a place with a patio (may have been my parents house before they changed the patio into den - i think it was).

one of our neighbors had abandoned their pet baby elephant, and he had taken up frightened residence on our patio. he looked hungry but i had no peanuts. instead, i gave him a banana, which he liked. i put him on a leash and we went downtown, where a policewoman saw us.

later, my brother (who was simultaneously my dad's friend's kid's brother) took posession of the elephant somehow and kept it locked up in a hotel bathtub/shower. i went to retrieve my pet elephant, but brother dualie claimed he didn't have it, but knew where it was if i had some large sum of money. i told him to call the police, who knew that i was the owner of the elephant. he didn't.

at this point, the brother switched completely from being my brother to the other guy, which allowed me to punch him in the face (in a rare moment of dream violence) and knock him out. i went into the bathroom, but no elephant baby. so sad!

i gathered up some other stuff from the hotel room which the dualie brother had stolen from me and got back on my moped to go back to the patio house, which, incidentally, was now apparently located on the beach in some kind of beach community of houses sprung up from the sand.

unfortunately, the community had now become overrun by zombies - zombies with a mission. there were two groups: the grabbers and the chasers. the grabbers were stuck to wooden posts driven into the beach sand. the chasers would chase you in a most unzombielike fashion into the waiting arms of the grabbers, who would eat you or turn you into a zombie or something.

i evaded these guys long enough to wake up. huzzah!

i'm loath to use my headphones because i fear it will mess up my do.

this has got to stop.

i remember now that one of the reasons i grew my hair out was because i hated all the goop i had to put into my shorter hair. seems like after a 8+ year break i don't mind as much.

it looks okay unbegooped, but i rather dig the "fresh outta the shower" look, which means: tons o goop.

gel it is, then.

i haven't gotten many injuries over my long and illustrious lifting career, but i think i've got one now.

that stupid wrist wrench i did last week while squatting has hosed my bench presses and now i can't do KB drills with my left arm.

maybe i should just write off lifting and take up tennis. or the javelin. or chess.

"We've got an issue in America. Too many good docs are getting out of business. Too many OB-GYNs aren't able to practice their love with women all across this country."

-- leader of the free world, 9/6/2004

okay, it's mostly just the hip flexors.

i don't need those for skating, right?

right.

i can't wait until november when i've recovered enough to go for my second run.

played a lot of texas hold em this weekend. in fact, i played 3 days in a row with 3 different groups of people.

by the third group, i cleaned house. i might have to go pro.

my recent spate of writing has nearly exhausted my supply of paper notebooks. as it turns out, i am evidently rather O/C when it comes to their replacement. i've been to staples and office despot, but still not found any suitable notebooks. wrong color, paper too big, paper too small, spiral too big, no spiral, etc. etc. etc. fun!

and the same goes for pens. why do they have to keep changing the design of cheap-o ballpoints? and why must i buy them 12 at a time, dammit!

ever been driving around, listening to something, and suddenly you realize that you're listening to the soundtrack for your driving experience?

happens to me all the time. it rocks.

for example, rob (or was he "white" at the time?) zombie's mixed version of "more human than human" starts warming up at a red light, then as soon as it turns green the guitars kick in and i smoke the tricked out m3 next to me.

sweet!

Alone, adj.:
In bad company.
-- Ambrose Bierce, "The Devil's Dictionary"

i'm four for four on trying to dry a no-longer-extant ponytail upon getting out of the shower.

that's gonna be a tough habit to kick.

my parents just bought an impala.

you download some mp3s

listen to em

they sound kinda cool : funky or groovy or kickass or whatever you're in the mood for

then you listen a little closer to the lyrics and....

fuck!!

christian rock.

damn.

unless i get some bike helmet mudflaps

dreamt i was at a poker game last night (i was!) with coworkers.

then the table got boring so i went over to another table. more coworkers, including my close friend and c++ programmer snoop dogg. he wanted to know if i wanted some weed or heroin. i said no thanks. he said "we're not at work, now, it's okay," but i still didn't want any.

i crack me up.

i was "ow"-ing like a drama queen about my wrist on friday to mr ysaow, and when he asked me what's the dilly-o, i explained how it happened. he said:

"wow, you're like some kind of rennaisance man!" (which is patently untrue, since i'm sure i didn't even spell it correctly)

his evidence of my status as an RM was that i write short stories, bike, lift weights, and program like a mofo.

that's all it takes? i haven't even told him aboot most of the other stuff. i thought i was just slowly approaching bay area activity-level average.

linky

my cayenne pepper plants finally sprouted something that could be mistaken for a cayenne instead of a bell! and it looks about ready to pick. yum! it's got a brother, too. maybe i should have a fire-eating contest?

any takers?

"to be the exodus / of our genesis!"

how can you beat lyrics like that? you can't, that's how!

i either need to start reading again or stop spending so much.

both.

true to my word, i bought running shoes today. went up to "runner's feet" in burlingame, where the staff is friendly and helpful. they had me try the shoes out by running in them. i only ran 20 yards a few times but still broke a sweat. ack. i thought all the biking and weights and jumprope and kettlebells were supposed to put me in some kinda shape. i blame the sun. it was hot.

tragically, it looks like i probably won't even be able to pound the pavement until tuesday night (unless something better comes along, of course). i likely won't have time to wash my runnin shorts before then, either. ha!

i have several standard decorative items that have been with me since i've been living on my own. these are the only items that have ever graced my walls (taking some liberty with that statement to expand the list):

so i've been squatting in shoes, this week, because it's my suspicion that part of the reason my arches are sore are my barefoot squats.

unfortunately, the shoes have thrown off my whole groove, but only after the warmup sets. so here i am with some crazy amount of weight on my back and i go to rack it, but somehow end up with only the right end of the bar in the hook. the left is in limbo, beneath the hook somehow. meanwhile, my left wrist is being wrenched off and i can't feel a way to get out of it.

so i figure better a broken rack than a broken back and just duck under, out, and away from the bar. amazingly, it somehow stays suspended just as i left it: right end in the hook, left end supported only by air. i did one more set but it sucked badly. now i have a sore wrist.

oh well, i don't really need it until sunday anyhow.

political party: decline to specify
ethnic background: other: human

arnie is gonna mail me a card to sign in 7 to 10 days. whoopie.

i gotta do this crap again if i move? bleh.

i'm probably gonna get jury duty now, too. bleh bleh.

the callers... jfc

5 hours sleep is not enough recovery time after a kettlebell workout.

ow.

i havent used an alarm clock since college (except when i need to get to a plane or something). i get up at about the same time every day, 7am with an optional extension to 8am.

evidently, though, the optional extension is null and void if i've stayed up till 2am the night before. that's not fair!

as part of my campaign to be less subtle, links are now decorated even before you wave your mouse at them.

well, except for the ones in "title" areas.

hooray!