Monday, January 25, 2010

A Fond Quote

"Are you upset little friend? Have you been lying awake worrying? Well, don't worry...I'm here. The flood waters will recede, the famine will end, the sun will shine tomorrow, and I will always be here to take care of you."

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

The Gym, Nausea, and Public Showers

In an effort to get back on track with taking better care of myself, I crawled out of bed at 4:50AM this morning to go to a 5:30 class at the gym. And for those who've been to my house, yes, there were still people walking around on the streets even at that time.
I only managed to get 6 hours of sleep, which clashes a bit with the whole "taking better care of myself" idea, but I'll need some practice to get the balance right. Beyond forgetting deodorant and nearly walking out of the house without pants, I felt I was off to a strong start. But two things were plotting against me; how hard spin class can be after not going for months...and public showers.

Several months ago, I was on a roll and was rather dedicated to going to a class several times a week and that was forcing me to eat better because I'd feel like I did all that work for nothing otherwise. It was working out well. But everything went downhill when I moved because I no longer had to go by the gym to get home and thus 'out of sight, out of mind'. I can in fact be that pitifully weak-willed and easily distracted; I'm not proud.

A note about spin class for those who've never been. If you're not in excellent shape, there are three phases that you are going to experience when you go to your first several classes.
* Wanting to Vomit
* Wanting to Die
* Uncontrollable Urination

Okay, I made that last one up. Maybe. I think the actual last phase is "grim acceptance" but sadly I don't ever make it to that one.

Still it felt good (besides the 45 minutes during which it felt horrible) to be back on track. Or at least starting back on the path to be on said track. ~16 miles wasn't a bad first day. Though it's depressing when the instructor starts talking about how all that effort translates into the kind of food you can eat. Two .99 cent bags of Cheetos and all that work is undone? The effort-to-calories-burned ratio always seems horrible skewed. Thankfully I don't like Cheetos. Though I do like this guy:

It's also depressing that he - the instructor, not Chester - is probably close to double my age and was tearing it up all the while talking to the class without a hint of being out of breath. His legs were moving in a ridiculous blur, like the Roadrunner.

Since I had to go to work directly after class, I was forced to use the public shower or be shunned by my coworkers. I'm sure most people are long beyond the discomfort with public showers that I felt this day but, this being my first experience with a public shower, I was none too pleased. The place was filled with far more naked old men proudly flaunting their cash and prizes than any one location should ever contain.

I wanted to shower as fast as humanly possible, but I had to make it to a free shower-head first. As I uncomfortably make my way through there - giddy elders all around talking about their moles and popping each other on the butt with towels - where do I look? You might think you want to look the people dead in the eye, but you don't really want to do that. You want to avert your eyes and cast them down in discomfort or shame, except you really don't want to look down. You could close your eyes but one ill-fated bump into someone and there's not enough soap in the city to scrub away those memories. Squint. That's the key. You can't make out details but you can make out the octagon shapes of the fellows easy enough to keep clear.

Also, I should note that old people's butts are freakin' weird. The shape and angles are all wrong, like some sort of nightmarish horror from an H.P. Lovecraft story. They look like someone was trying to make biscuits out of their backside but hasn't fully rolled the dough yet. They are pasty-white and soft (...I assume), half totally flat and the other half more or less dome-shaped, though with various pits and dents all over the surface (as if the dome was hit by a shower of meteorites).
And I guess some of them look like you dropped the dough on a floor covered in white cat hair.

It is unfortunate that I try to share this information while attempting to eat my already unsatisfying lunch. It's unfortunate that I had to learn these things at all. Today; the day I lost my innocence and the world became a cold, dark place.

Monday, January 04, 2010


It's been quite a long time since I fell in love for the first time. I still think about her - never forget her. That's not really in my capacity. Even if I've only seen her a handful of times in the last 10 years, she's there. She's part of who I am.

Yet over all the years, she may not have been physically present, but she was consistent. I would on occasion be updated on major events in her life. A big move. When she was getting married. Even when she was had a child. I was somewhere in her mind too, if only a weak presence. So, while apart, we were always connected even if only by a thin thread.

When today I found out by chance that she had a another son, I knew that thread had finally broken. I guess she has fully moved on at last.

The realistic side of me is glad, though the selfish part of me is hurt. But I suppress it; that side of me has no place anymore.

But with the freedom this severing is forcing upon me, maybe I can finally stretch my legs and distance myself from the past and get a little closer to the future. Though I realize before starting out that no matter how far away I get, there's a part of me that I left behind on her doorstep. I've never been able to get it back. Please keep it somewhere safe and look at it from time to time if you ever feel unloved and realize that will never be true.