raybear: (Default)
On the elevator ride up to work, the mini-screen with flashing headlines mentioned Livejournal being sold to a "Russian media company".

Last night at 2:22 am, I woke myself up from trying to escape the bed and some weird freudian psychosexual dream. I hate those. I only get them maybe once a year, and last night was something about my mother sleeping with some other man and telling me about it, but worse she was telling me about it when the man's child was in the room with us. This was obviously influenced by the Margot movie. There was also some weird appearance with the Clintons and reference to Hillary sleeping with Obama and Bill talking about public sex and I was just like, agh, enough, I want out of these conversations! So I got up, was groggy, but also far from sleep. Perhaps not so inclined to return to the possible narrative awaiting me. I played my scrabble moves online, then went back to bed and did a crossword puzzle. Then I read. Then finally, around 4:30, I turned out the light and eventually fell back to sleep. I suspect DYA was maybe waking up around that time on the other side of the apartment.

A random bout of insomnia wouldn't be so bad with my schedule, except I had plans to meet Coxy at the Y at 8:45 am. The alarm went off and I made it happen. Even got there early! We scooted in just in time for our Hydro-Aerobics Class. This class was my suggestion and Coxy was totally game (and possibly equally excited, though I don't want to presume to speak for her). It was sort of exactly what I expected -- we were the youngest people in the class and we were definitely being observed and sized up, though it never felt hostile. Just...questioning. So imagine about 9 people in a pool, with my grandma standing on along the edge and calling out the exercises. It started off with going back and forth across the short distance of the pool, doing specifical leg or arm movements. Then we got these styrofoam dumbbells and she called out more movements for our arms. Then we got floatie noodles to recline in the water and she called out more movements for our legs. Then we went to the wall and did a bunch more movements. Then we did about 8 seconds of stretching and the class was done.

I actually liked the class a lot, because you could adjust all the movements easily, to make them as vigorous as you'd like. Its not swimming focused, in fact I wore my glass the whole time because I never went fully underwater -- its more about movement underwater so its easier on joints but there's also more resistance. It was sort of soothing being in water for an hour too.

After the class, Coxy stayed behind in the pool to do some laps and I went exploring the rest of the fitness area. I tried out a few machines, including the climber. For some reason elliptical machines are daunting, but I had no problem hopping up in this rail thing and climbing away for a couple minutes. it looked like this, if you don't know ) Then I went to the circuit training room, which I haven't done in years, and I kinda love all the weightlight machines, even more than free weights. Except, I got all bold and did the assisted chin-up/chin-dip bar, and now my shoulders are jelly and I could barely lift my arms to get dressed for work this afternoon. I'm a little worried that tomorrow morning will be worse, though usually if the tiredness happens right away, I'm less sore the next day.

I liked being there, because I didn't feel as self-conscious about my body. I mean, its probably more likely people stare at my tattoo instead of my scars, since the ink is actually more prominent. The majority of the people there were older than me, there were all sort of body types and fitness styles, it wasn't too crowded and the people there were utterly fascinating to me. Also, they have machines with tvs on them. So, assuming they don't require a year commitment, I think I'm going to join the YMCA. Its 3 train stops away, and about 2 blocks from the station (it took me about 15 minutes to get there, door to door).

So maybe every Wednesday, Coxy and I are going to do water aerobics and then eat at the Golden Nugget and talk about things that make me agitated (in a good way).

I can't believe I'm joining a gym and super excited about it. I also can't believe I wrote a whole blog post about it. I don't expect it to happen that often. Except maybe after I go to the steam room for the first time.
raybear: (sunglasses)
Its blue skies, sunny, and 19 degrees here on this Chicago morning. So I put on my new sportswear thermal shirt, my orange head band, grey hoodie tied up tight, and my aviators; then, like a gay Rocky, I went out for a run. I haven't done any vigorous physical activity since hurting my back, or rather the first week of a hurt back when I was riding my bike anyway. I ran the whole time though, just over two miles in about 24 minutes, so not too bad. This was also an experiment on whether I have adequate clothing for winter running (I do), whether I still have a touch of cold weather asthma (so far, so good - no problems), and if I enjoy running in the cold more than the heat (definitely). When it was hot as hell and I'd get tired, slowing down to walk felt good. When its cold, I don't want to slow down because then I'll get colder. Its a good nudger.

My route was mostly about chasing sunshine, which also made a difference on the comfort levels. Of course now that I'm all proud of myself, I want to lie down on the couch and take a nap. However, I won't be following my initial plans for the day, which is watching the second half of Lars von Trier "Dogville". I'll save that for a day when I'm already feeling despondent -- no reason to induce that isht. Instead I'll do some writing. And clean up the mess of dishes from my failure attempt at a cake.

All this after I rest.
raybear: (scream)
You know what's fcked up? I just went to create a google news alert with my grandmother's name and the Mississippi town where she lives, so I can find out when the obituary is published, because I don't trust my family to notify me until after the funeral. Except, I had already created one. There was no recent news that prompted this -- she hasn't been doing to well healthwise for a couple years now, and it's always on a steady decline, so it's sort of just a matter of time. But damm.

You know what else is fcked up? This morning I drove up to Evanston and listened to WLUW which plays Amy Goodman's Democracy Now in the morning. It's not my favorite show, I can't hear it every day (she's no Rachel Maddow), but it's way more interesting than anything on NPR or other news. So today was this guy who'd written a book on Donald Rumsfeld, and they're talking about his history, and how after working with the Ford administration (um, dude is old), he became head of Searle Pharmaceuticals. See, the Searle family were buddies of his, as fellow privileged rich north shore Chicago folks, and the company was starting to sink and go under, but they had created (accidentally) this artificial sweetener that they were calling aspartame and were trying to get the FDA to approve it. Except, studies showed it caused brain cancer so the FDA was saying no way. So they hired Rumsfeld as CEO with his politico connections to help get approval because they knew it would make them buckets of money. Except, see, Rumsfeld wasn't able to make it happen. He's no business man, he was a lobbyist, and apparently not even a good one of those. Well, not until Reagan got elected, and he booted out the head of the FDA and the new head of the FDA said, wait, it doesn't cause brain cancer, let's approve it.

Searle went on to sell its empire to Monsanto. And now we drink Diet Coke.

Well, not 'we'. I hate diet sodas. Because I don't like how they taste and I'm a paranoid freak about certain health things, like brain cancer, and the possible link to aspartame (this started in high school when my high school bio teacher taught us about the controversy). But I know lots of people who rely on it for caffeine intake or because they're diabetic, and that's just fcked up to have it peddled on us like it is.

Which reminds me of last night, and how I reached my own personal tipping point of these attorneys at work constantly making sarcastic comments about how 'healthy' the dinner is here. Now, don't get me wrong -- they aren't always the most balanced meals, but if you have moderate portions of the fried meat and large portions of salad and then maybe add a banana or apple that's usually lying around, you're doing okay, plus, really, they probably are eating out all the time at places that are no 'healthier'. It's really just anti-fat bullisht bias. Last night though, I just cracked. I had a half a plate of salad, half of plate of baked ziti, with a piece of garlic bread on top, and one of the attorneys walked by and said, "that looks healthy" (their sarcasm isn't even especially clever), and I'm like, mtherfcker, you go through two cans of diet coke in the last hour I see you, so you probably drink 5-6 cans a day, which is half a gallon daily of toxic aritificial chemicals. I am eating a plate of a food that a country in southern europe has been eating for centuries and they are alive and well and doing just fine.

Wow, I didn't realize how ranty I was feeling until I started typing.

May 2010

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