Greetings, Internet Land! And Happy New Year's Eve! Tonight I will hopefully be having fun partying the New Year in with good friends and lots of strangers. In a New Years tradition of sorts (partly in preparation for the inevitable Resolutions) I am contemplating how 2008 has treated me.
-I started this blog at the beginning of the year. At the start, it was meant to be some sort of creative outlet, and has since turned into my ranting about the world at large. I think 2009 will bring further attempts to document the sometimes hilarious banalities of my life. And of course more arguing with my brain and credit cards. Twitter shall be its trusty sidekick.
-I was/am/will be bored at work. Gchat became a necessity.
-On the other hand, I made some great new friends.
-I watched lots of TV and movies and remembered the joys of my youth. I also read books of varying levels of quality, and still enjoy ranting about them. Vampire fiction should never be taken lightly.
-I got cats! They now run my life and I am completely beholden to satisfy their various whims. Surprisingly, I am just fine with this.
-I've joined a gym and had an on-again, off-again abusive relationship with a personal trainer. Joel has since left the gym (without telling us). I feel betrayed.
-I've cooked some: most impressive achievement was a souffle that didn't fall. Okay, it was a little undercooked in the center, but overall a fine achievement for a first try.
-I started playing my very first MMO. No, not WOW. I stopped playing for many months. Recently, I've started back up again.
-I got a new computer. There was much rejoicing.
-I started writing a book. Well, kind of. I got about 30 pages in and just stopped. The ideas are still flowing through my head, and every now and then I'll figure some plot point out when I'm waiting for the bus. It's there, just waiting for me on my flash drive. I can't hide forever.
-I drank lots of coffee. Currently, more addicted than ever.
-I went to NY for the very first time! There was much rejoicing.
-And lots of Bin 36.
-I discovered the excessively violent fun of Roller Derby.
-I ignored responsibilities, overdrew my bank account lots, mourned the loss of spontaneity, and refused to set my future up. But most importantly, I've had fun.
Now what?
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Look On My Works Ye Mighty And Despair!
Disclaimer: This entry is disgusting. For those of you do not want to hear about the tainted lungs and natural, um, issues of a sickly person, please don't read any further. Watch the linked youtube video below or something. I'll be sure to have a less unpleasant post later on about, like, panic in buying people Christmas gifts (I've bought 1! And I don't even know if it's really going to be for him!). You have been warned.
Okay, so y'all know that when I got back from NY, my body basically had had enough of this crap and completely broke down on me. I spent most of the weekend in bed, a sadsack unable to buy groceries, being tended to by the cats. And by tended to, I mean forced to play with the needy ones.
So, I finally began feeling better around Monday, aside from a death cough, which pleased the coworkers around me I'm sure. But now, even that's mostly gone away and I'm a pretty presentable person. Well, as presentable as I normally am.
This was very exciting news, because yes(!), I can finally work out again! I hadn't worked out since that disastrous Thanksgiving run, where my lungs decided to stop working on me and I couldn't finish. Not that I'd been working out as steadily as I would've liked before then. That's another story. Anyway, now I had no more excuses. My legs were ready, my lungs kind of ready, but most importantly, my mind was ready. I was going to run.
I hadn't been coughing so much, so I didn't think it was an issue. I had a decent dinner beforehand, and waited the usual amount of time before heading down to the building's (thankfully empty) weight room (timed during a commercial break of Top Chef) to watch the rest of the episode while running.
Everything was going great. I was well-hydrated and off to a great start. Ariane just won the Elimination Challenge (aside: who else thought it was hilarious that Padma tried to pretend that she and Gail really are BFF outside of the show?) much to the displeasure of Jamie and I was now running at around a 6 mph pace. Cool.
In order for me to think that any running cardio workout is actually worthwhile, I've gotten to the point where I have to run at least 5 minutes (normally 10) on 6.5 mph. This is a holdover from FBI training days (something I have been inching back towards these days) when 6.5 was the minimum pace for passing the 2 mile run part of the physical fitness test. So I put it on 6.5 and for about 2.5 minutes, it went really well.
Then it happened--my mouth began getting abnormally dry and my lungs started to feel weird. They didn't really hurt like running outside in NY, but something unnatural was happening in there. I realized that I needed to cough, and specifically needed to cough something, um, up. Now, I'm in the weight room in my building, so I can't really spit on the floor, but I really really want to finish my workout. At this point, I know that I can't run longer than 5 minutes on 6.5, and should be glad to finish even that. After those five minutes, I started cooling down and taking the speed on the treadmill back down in intervals. Then I began coughing and it was horrible.
Now I really needed to spit, but I still had five minutes left on my workout, and I was going to finish dammit. So I hold it. It's only five minutes right? Then, after 2 minutes of agony, I begin to cough again. I HAD NO CHOICE. I spit into my hand. So there I was, cooling down while holding my left hand as far away from me and the treadmill as possible. I could still make it and then go wash my hand in the small bathroom attached to the weight room. I could do it. Two minutes, I have two minutes now.
Then the most horrible combination of events happened simultaneously. I was racked with another set of awful coughs as I once more lowered the speed on the treadmill awkwardly with my right hand, an act which caused me to stumble over my feet a little. The combination of all of these things led to one of the most cartoonish moments of my life: I nearly tripped over my feet and instinctively grabbed onto the treadmill WITH BOTH HANDS, and, um, naturally my left hand slips and I pretty much fall on the treadmill. Luckily the treadmill goes off immediately, lest it kill me with the tread. Now uncontrollably coughing, I make my way to the bathroom to get paper towels to try to clean off as much as I can.
I really hope the landlady didn't see it on the surveillance cameras--there's a 75% chance that she was watching one of her weird soap operas instead of the security feed anyway. But still. Worst gym experience ever. Before then I was going to do sit ups as well, but instead I just drank lots of water and slunk back to my apartment. It was such a humiliating experience that I was glad to be working out alone. So naturally I had to share it with all of you.
Maybe there is something to this whole "running outside" thing. Hmm.
Okay, so y'all know that when I got back from NY, my body basically had had enough of this crap and completely broke down on me. I spent most of the weekend in bed, a sadsack unable to buy groceries, being tended to by the cats. And by tended to, I mean forced to play with the needy ones.
So, I finally began feeling better around Monday, aside from a death cough, which pleased the coworkers around me I'm sure. But now, even that's mostly gone away and I'm a pretty presentable person. Well, as presentable as I normally am.
This was very exciting news, because yes(!), I can finally work out again! I hadn't worked out since that disastrous Thanksgiving run, where my lungs decided to stop working on me and I couldn't finish. Not that I'd been working out as steadily as I would've liked before then. That's another story. Anyway, now I had no more excuses. My legs were ready, my lungs kind of ready, but most importantly, my mind was ready. I was going to run.
I hadn't been coughing so much, so I didn't think it was an issue. I had a decent dinner beforehand, and waited the usual amount of time before heading down to the building's (thankfully empty) weight room (timed during a commercial break of Top Chef) to watch the rest of the episode while running.
Everything was going great. I was well-hydrated and off to a great start. Ariane just won the Elimination Challenge (aside: who else thought it was hilarious that Padma tried to pretend that she and Gail really are BFF outside of the show?) much to the displeasure of Jamie and I was now running at around a 6 mph pace. Cool.
In order for me to think that any running cardio workout is actually worthwhile, I've gotten to the point where I have to run at least 5 minutes (normally 10) on 6.5 mph. This is a holdover from FBI training days (something I have been inching back towards these days) when 6.5 was the minimum pace for passing the 2 mile run part of the physical fitness test. So I put it on 6.5 and for about 2.5 minutes, it went really well.
Then it happened--my mouth began getting abnormally dry and my lungs started to feel weird. They didn't really hurt like running outside in NY, but something unnatural was happening in there. I realized that I needed to cough, and specifically needed to cough something, um, up. Now, I'm in the weight room in my building, so I can't really spit on the floor, but I really really want to finish my workout. At this point, I know that I can't run longer than 5 minutes on 6.5, and should be glad to finish even that. After those five minutes, I started cooling down and taking the speed on the treadmill back down in intervals. Then I began coughing and it was horrible.
Now I really needed to spit, but I still had five minutes left on my workout, and I was going to finish dammit. So I hold it. It's only five minutes right? Then, after 2 minutes of agony, I begin to cough again. I HAD NO CHOICE. I spit into my hand. So there I was, cooling down while holding my left hand as far away from me and the treadmill as possible. I could still make it and then go wash my hand in the small bathroom attached to the weight room. I could do it. Two minutes, I have two minutes now.
Then the most horrible combination of events happened simultaneously. I was racked with another set of awful coughs as I once more lowered the speed on the treadmill awkwardly with my right hand, an act which caused me to stumble over my feet a little. The combination of all of these things led to one of the most cartoonish moments of my life: I nearly tripped over my feet and instinctively grabbed onto the treadmill WITH BOTH HANDS, and, um, naturally my left hand slips and I pretty much fall on the treadmill. Luckily the treadmill goes off immediately, lest it kill me with the tread. Now uncontrollably coughing, I make my way to the bathroom to get paper towels to try to clean off as much as I can.
I really hope the landlady didn't see it on the surveillance cameras--there's a 75% chance that she was watching one of her weird soap operas instead of the security feed anyway. But still. Worst gym experience ever. Before then I was going to do sit ups as well, but instead I just drank lots of water and slunk back to my apartment. It was such a humiliating experience that I was glad to be working out alone. So naturally I had to share it with all of you.
Maybe there is something to this whole "running outside" thing. Hmm.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Hi
I don't really have anything important to say, except I saw this ad on Youtube and wanted to share its glory.
Anything that effectively uses, but also lampoons the use of the O Fortuna part of Carmina Burana is okay by me. I mean, who doesn't get excited when movie trailers use exciting Latin chanting to promote the (action packed fighting) sequences? For anyone that questions my choice to take 8 years of Latin in my life, remember: Life just ain't epic without Latin.
Anything that effectively uses, but also lampoons the use of the O Fortuna part of Carmina Burana is okay by me. I mean, who doesn't get excited when movie trailers use exciting Latin chanting to promote the (action packed fighting) sequences? For anyone that questions my choice to take 8 years of Latin in my life, remember: Life just ain't epic without Latin.
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