raybear: (Default)
I have therapy this morning and I'm dreading it, I'm mad about it, because he will force me to break my streak of not talking that I've been enjoying and working so well for me lately. I'm not sure if that was sarcasm. It probably is and it is probably also an indication of something, since I rarely engage in that particular style of snark.

Some of the reasons for not writing here as much are related to: night-time work being busier, having guests in the house, writing more in the novel on a daily basis, but also, let's be real, when we want to make time for something, we do, we find the ways to do it. And also, sure, there are plenty of people who don't feel compelled to document every moment of their every day and that is perfectly acceptable and possibly even healthier at times, but its not really how I work. Today I started with a pencil and a scrap of paper and making a list of all the topics I'm not writing about. Its a start.

In the meantime, as in, right this moment, I'm continuing the trend to either only write about movies or prompts from [livejournal.com profile] tracijean.

[Poll #1175792]
raybear: (Default)
In the year end issue of Entertainment Weekly, they had a series of short pieces called This is the Year That..... and one of them was This is the Year That I Got Old. The writer was maybe 34 and started off talking about how they used to be totally on top off all things pop culture, but knew it was starting to fall apart when she left the seizure-inducing layout of MySpace for an account of Facebook so she could play scrabble with her friends. "Do you know who plays scrabble? Old people."

I could relate. Although I'm still beating my brother who turned 30 and suddenly only started buying one CD a year (and this was before he had kids). I used to be someone who made year-end top 10 lists. But now I read them for recommendations. Today I was scanning and listening, putting together a new playlist called "hipster workout" for something new while I'm on the fake machines at the gym. I was looking for more blip-beeps and ambient and zoning out types to mix in, and so far its LCD Soundsystem and Burial and Lil Wayne and RJD2 and Caribou and....Tegan & Sara. I know I'm like a thousand years behind everyone, by finally getting into them, and this is partially to blame because their album came out while I was working at the bookstore and all day long it was variations of girls with guitars music, whether it was Melissa Ferrick or the Butchies, and it all was blending together in my brain for awhile, so I sort of lumped it all together even after the fact. But you know, an album shows up on enough people's top 10 lists, I'll give it a listen. And I don't love every song, and so far I'm actually listening to more of "If It Was You" instead of "The Con".

Next week I'll be telling you about this new band Arcade Fire that I've heard of.

Not to be all Bridget Jones, but... )

I'm majorly rambling and I didn't even get to the irrational panicky brain trip about becoming Marc Jacobs and I don't know how to get back to the place I wanted to end this post which is namely, I'm finally watching Friday Night Lights, season one (see, people list it on best-of's, I finally pay attention!), and I'm a little bit in love with Zach Gilford (the second string quarterback who steps in, Matt Whatitson) and want him to be my boyfriend. I'm not generally into fresh-faced pretty boys, so I am a little baffled by my own attraction. And I'm looking at pictures of him on google to show people, but none of them look very appealing to me, which make me think its more about how he moves and holds himself, and that makes sense, I am often way more interested in how people hold themselves and what they do with their body, rather than the body itself. Perhaps I can hold myself to this standard more often. Ah wait! Here's a decent one where he looks british and way more suave than usual, but whatever, he's on the right: http://img175.imageshack.us/img175/5798/esquirep7vd7.png
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: (Default)
I went running this morning, the second time this week, I've been going about twice a week in the past two weeks. I'd like to get up to three times a week, but hey, I'll take two. It's two more than zero, which I was doing before. I've taken SAMe every morning since February 22nd, which means its been about a month. I swallow 400 mg every morning, and sometimes on an afternoon when going to work seems hard, I take another 200 mg. Today, I took the extra 200 mg in the mid-morning. I'm doing a lot, I'm doing better, but sometimes I catch myself in the lie -- that even though I tell myself it's about managing and coping, parts of me still think its about curing. So I get down on myself when its still there. I know lots of things, that is different from feeling them, believing them.

There's a difference though, which is that I'm actually feeling separate emotions, not just a grey white-noise of numbness over all things. I am sometimes gentle with myself. I'll keep at it.

Last night I started to really put together all the organizational bits and pieces of the writer's retreat packet and I'm so jazzed about this, I can hardly contain myself. I want to send out the packet RIGHT NOW, but I'm still waiting on parts from other people. Including, um, myself. I did write up my seminar description, but I want to revise parts of the story I'm sending in too. So. Excited. I get all buzzy and jumpy and tingly. Writing about it makes me think about it and I'm feeling it again.

Yesterday while doing work up in Evanston, I stopped by the inferior branch of Binny's (it's smaller and mostly seems to deal in hard liquors), which was perfect for being inferior because the random wine with which I am in love (and also is currently on sale) was fully stocked and I bought two more bottles, one to share at the writing retreat. I wrote about it already, the Dehesa Gago 2005. The other week, I also bought the Dehesa Gago 2003 and a white wine, Baso, also by my new winemaker boyfriend, Telmo Rodriguez. I was ready to live in sin with him and birth all his babies, all based on his skills alone, but then I googled him and check it out:

He would be easy to love.

I just realized my brunch tomorrow is a birthday brunch, so I should go get a card and maybe a gift. It's friday, so I'm wearing jeans and a tight t-shirt that says "Don't Get Caulky". And there's a picture of a caulking gun.
raybear: (Default)
It's been over 2 1/2 hours and I still can't feel my entire left jaw, starting at my ear and down to my chin, including the left half of my tongue. I think they gave too much novacaine. I suppose it could have been worse, it could have been too litte. Also, from now on, if someone ever asks you do shots for cavities hurt, I think the main difference is whether the cavity is on the top or bottom. Shots on the top of my mouth were mostly small pinches. Ones on the bottom were like electrical jolts and long stabbing. Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating a tiny bit.

I thought today was the final session in the The Great Cavity Filling of Winter 06-07. But no, I have to go back one more time, because today's was 'big' so I have to come back later for the small one in the tooth next to it. I put off the appointment until April. I think I'll be due for a cleaning and check up in May, and hopefully I won't have to start the whole process over again. I just hope my dentist never leaves, because really, I have a crush on him which is the main reason why I keep going back. It even makes me floss occasionally.

The sun came out and I'm cooking rice. The day has gotten better.

May 2010

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