ultranow

gym blues

i stopped working out and i don't know why or of course i know why.  it's hard in the moment and for some reason when it comes to my body i don't think of long term goals.  i'm still lean and reasonably tight and all.  i just lost some muscle and probably without the same level of core strength my back gets sore more.  and probably without the circulatory benefits my brain gets sore more.  and probably without the way to burn off energy my mood gets sore more.  so i guess i best work out.  it's just i quit my gym because it didn't fit in my schedule but now i have a bike and places to go plus i have a rowing machine at home and the electronica channel on digital cable so there's really no excuse except that i'm not doing it which isn't an excuse but rather a fact.

i think what's missing is when i'm at a gym i get competitive, not directly like i'll lift more weight than the next guy even if i can't, but i figure if other people are in the room i should try not to look like a fool.  and maybe if some of those people are guys who look at least somewhat like the pictures i post on here, then it would be to my benefit to look good in comparison.  i'm not just a mind i'm a piece of meat (or a piece of wheat gluten since i don't eat meat).  other people seem to remember i have a body more than i do.  i guess because i'm so close to it i can't see it.  i can't see me.

the vicodin monologues

pigs on parade is back on the seattle streets and it took about two seconds of one of the sculptures being in westlake center for someone to rip its wings off, thereby destroying the when pigs fly metaphor.  can people please leave public art totally the fuck alone?

my wisdom tooth i had out last week got infected, or should i say the hole that remained got infected, so i'm in total hideous pain, partially from the gut wrenching antibiotics.  for awhile there, i was doing a steve lawrence impression, which if you're old enough you'll know i'm talking about that guy who looked like one side of his jaw was constantly swollen.

my bus driver today kept jerking the bus like it was his minus first day on the job, plus he was singing and talking to himself like a maniac which made me terrified.  more terrified than normal.  this was better than tuesday, when this bag lady, oh i'm sorry that's rude, this bummette paid her fare in pennies.  as in 150 pennies.  she put a plastic bag on the floor of the bus and kept hunching over to pick up handfuls over and over.  i was heard to utter "jesus fucking christ get off the fucking bus, lady."  and i meant it.

when i was getting my antibiotic and extra vicodin prescription filled, i ran into someone i knew through an old job and she told me she sold a design to ikea.  of course i looked it up and it turns out to be true.  see hallaryd.  her artwork, which i personally think is kinda boring, at least in its ikea incarnation, is now in thousands of people's houses, and was in a set shot on dancing with the stars, though that last part i can't fact check because i hate dancing with the stars.  what kills reality shows for me are when i hate one or more of the judges, and on that show i hate all three.  i'm trying to watch so you think you can dance, but i hate mary murphy and mia michaels, so that's going to be tough.

it's amazing how grumpy constant pain can make me.  of course, it's better than what someone else i know has:  flesh eating bacteria on his face.  i'm totally not kidding.  the hospital let him out after giving him antibiotics, but then he had to go back because it was antibiotic resistant flesh eating bacteria.  so blame the healthcare system for not appropriately quarantining contagious people.  don't scapegoat the individuals.  except for typhoid mary.  it was totally her fault she gave everyone her bubonic plague, i mean typhoid.  but speaking of bubonic plague, if you get bubonic plague in your boobs, is it called, boobubonic plague?

wow, posting on vicodin is intense.  time for more hardboiled eggs.  is that hyphenated?

to do ta da

• more water
• more outdoor air
• less (bad) tv
• more (good) tv
• more cardio
• more weights
• short shorts in 2 months or at least above the knee
• more him time as in finding him
• less chicken as in none as in fully vegetarian again for 2 weeks now and going forward
• more quinoa
• more britney
• less oprah
• kill paris
• shallow sad
• deep happy
• frolick yes
• future yes

if this were 30 years ago

if this were 30 years ago and i were sick as i am today, i would also have stayed home.  i would also have watched tv.  i would also have not eaten much.  i would also have wished mr. rogers were my family.  i would also have felt helpless and alone.  i would also have ached and burned up.  i would also have craved a magazine that would take away the discomfort of flu.  distraction is powerful.

if this were 30 years ago, i would also have stayed home but home would have been a house instead of an apartment and there would have been people around me instead of nobody though i would have disliked those people.  i would have eaten chicken soup which would have done nothing but make the maker feel better while now i eat pea soup for the protein.  i know mr. rogers is not my family and that he is dead.  i miss work instead of school but feel the same fear of the world passing me by and me not minding it so much because the world that passes me by may not be the world i desire to live in because not all is perfect in that world. 

i know distraction is not powerful.  i know healing is possible.  i am sick and can't think clearly.  my temperature won't stop being a fever and though i know fever kills the illness it hurts my back and eyes.  i don't like today and though i hope not to be sick tomorrow i may not like tomorrow.  something isn't right in the world that's passing me by.  fever brings clarity.

toothpaste when sick tastes the same as it did 30 years ago.  sour and awkward.  crest.  my body knows being sick.  my body knows flu.  it it timeless.  where i am has changed.  who i am changes each breath but sometimes who it changes to lines up with who i was 30 years ago.  once i missed two weeks of school with something.  i think strep throat.  i was surprised that when i came back kids had signed a card welcoming me back.  i knew it wasn't sincere because i knew it wasn't.  some kids who signed it were bullies.  the hardest part about sliding back into the world that is passing me by is welcoming myself back.  i can't count on cards from anyone now.  sincere or not.  i have to welcome myself back into an imperfect life.  i wonder what i missed today.  30 years ago being sick meant missing how to write the letter "i" in cursive or the mystery of the schwa sound finally revealed.

what worries me most is that rejoining the world after a day of fever, a day of being out of it, will reveal i have missed nothing besides the roles i fill.  nothing besides being somewhere.  being sick hurts for what is revealed that i miss and don't miss about my outside life.  in that, 30 years ago and today are the same.

is there anything?

• is there anything between living in panic and living in fog?
• is there anything better than shoe browsing at nordstrom for the sycophantic attention and test drives but then shoe buying on zappos.com for the better price and selection?
• is there anything more rare than a skincare saleswoman who encourages keeping it simple with what's already in one's regimen, instead of pushing more product?
• is there anything worse than building jaw pain that in my expert self-connected opinion indicates a high likelihood of needing at least one of my remaining three wisdom teeth removed?
• is there anything on tv tonight?