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raybearMy Y membership lapsed unintentionally this summer, when I went away to Ragdale, and when I came back, I started riding my bike to work most everyday, as well as everywhere else, so I just let it stay lapsed. Today I went and reactivated it, only at the Irving Park location, since I go there more often. And its $2 less a month. It made me so happy to be running on the machines and lifting weights amongst my favorite characters again. In the past month, I've still been somewhat active, at work practice every week, talking lots of long walks, etc. so I'm not totally out of shape, however, I am not in the shape I was when I left off doing my power superset workout I'd perfected this summer, courtesy of all my Men's Health reading. So now I'm at work and nothing hurts yet -- it just takes a lot of effort to do, oh, anything. I'm going again tomorrow, of course, because the physical pain/exhaustion is somewhat satisfying.
It is December already. I sort of hate when Thanksgiving falls so late in the month, it makes this time of year fly by even faster, the end of the year slipping off into the archives, but there's another part of me that is maybe okay with it whizzing past. This is the season of feeling feelings, and I'm trying to be better about the stuffing/swallowing/avoiding tactics, but still, there's always going to be an element of "hurry up and move on" in my nature. Thanksgiving itself was good, we had a great meal and good company and THREE homemade pies and a game of Apples to Apples and then nature porn. On Friday I saw Milk with good friends and hung out downtown afterwards, perusing the jazz record mart and getting a couple rounds of beers while talking about everything, then heading home in the cold, clutching my brown paper bag of records. It was just a good winter's night. Saturday, things started to catch up with me, I didn't want to be alone in the house with myself, so I was alone in the world with myself, which wasn't necessarily better, just easier. Though for two hours and 45 minutes, I was alone with Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman, and that was pretty great (I gush about it in more detail in my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
popnography review found HERE. Then I took a long walk down isolated industrial corridors, stumbling upon all sorts of finds, like giant scrap metal piles with crushed cars and washing machines. I met up with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dommeyourass to see JARRED. Sunday was probably the most perfect day of the holiday weekend: sleeping in, reading in bed, wrote my movie review, turkey leftovers for brunch, catching up on 30 Rock, quality time on the futon with DYA, afternoon service at temple, quick visit with jethead and jessicaeve, sushi dinner with blondestallion, then phone conversation with vfc, which inspired me to take a bath before bed. I've talked to her on the phone 3 times since she's moved, which is practically a record for me.
I think my pre-new year's resolution (I tend to like to start in December to get a good test run in) is to be better about making phone calls, or rather, scratch that, that makes it sound completely unappealing -- instead let's put it as not being scared of phone calls. Its more fun to think of conquering a fear than avoiding an obligation, right? Really it boils down to not worrying about talking for shorter periods of time, with more frequency. I talk on the phone so infrequently, that when I do, its often a 1-2 hour deal, and so when I think about making phone calls, I think, geez, I don't know if I can commit to being on the phone for the next 2 hours. Oh wait, I don't have to. Just like I enjoy the great art of the 1 page typewritten letter, I'm going to pursue the great art of the 15 minute phone call. We'll see how this goes.
It is December already. I sort of hate when Thanksgiving falls so late in the month, it makes this time of year fly by even faster, the end of the year slipping off into the archives, but there's another part of me that is maybe okay with it whizzing past. This is the season of feeling feelings, and I'm trying to be better about the stuffing/swallowing/avoiding tactics, but still, there's always going to be an element of "hurry up and move on" in my nature. Thanksgiving itself was good, we had a great meal and good company and THREE homemade pies and a game of Apples to Apples and then nature porn. On Friday I saw Milk with good friends and hung out downtown afterwards, perusing the jazz record mart and getting a couple rounds of beers while talking about everything, then heading home in the cold, clutching my brown paper bag of records. It was just a good winter's night. Saturday, things started to catch up with me, I didn't want to be alone in the house with myself, so I was alone in the world with myself, which wasn't necessarily better, just easier. Though for two hours and 45 minutes, I was alone with Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman, and that was pretty great (I gush about it in more detail in my
popnography review found HERE. Then I took a long walk down isolated industrial corridors, stumbling upon all sorts of finds, like giant scrap metal piles with crushed cars and washing machines. I met up with dommeyourass to see JARRED. Sunday was probably the most perfect day of the holiday weekend: sleeping in, reading in bed, wrote my movie review, turkey leftovers for brunch, catching up on 30 Rock, quality time on the futon with DYA, afternoon service at temple, quick visit with jethead and jessicaeve, sushi dinner with blondestallion, then phone conversation with vfc, which inspired me to take a bath before bed. I've talked to her on the phone 3 times since she's moved, which is practically a record for me.I think my pre-new year's resolution (I tend to like to start in December to get a good test run in) is to be better about making phone calls, or rather, scratch that, that makes it sound completely unappealing -- instead let's put it as not being scared of phone calls. Its more fun to think of conquering a fear than avoiding an obligation, right? Really it boils down to not worrying about talking for shorter periods of time, with more frequency. I talk on the phone so infrequently, that when I do, its often a 1-2 hour deal, and so when I think about making phone calls, I think, geez, I don't know if I can commit to being on the phone for the next 2 hours. Oh wait, I don't have to. Just like I enjoy the great art of the 1 page typewritten letter, I'm going to pursue the great art of the 15 minute phone call. We'll see how this goes.
