• I have tendonitis extending from my right hip. Boo. Hiss. Way to smack down my yoga practice, body. Week before last it hurt to walk. Anti-inflammatories and—grrr—rest have helped. To everyone who thinks I overextend my body: you’re probably right—and the doctor said I didn’t do this to myself! Sometimes it just happens. That news didn’t elicit one sigh of relief; it elicited many in quick succession, which looked like slow-mo hyperventilation.
• Last week I spent four days in San Diego at a meeting. A bit ago my company shifted our meeting dress policy from business casual to “smart casual.” That means jeans! (Along with apparel troublingly termed "dress shorts.") I get to wear jeans and flats to my out-of-town meetings! (!!!) During the various sessions of this meeting I folded about fifteen origami flowers, a couple boxes to house the pretty litter, a few frogs, and a crane or two. Remember when you were in Restoration Literature in college and there was that one girl who spent every class making elaborate doodles in her lesson notes? That was me! Keeping my hands busy with creative activities helps me learn. So it's a good thing I now travel with a stack of origami paper.
• Team, I went to an amusement park for the first time in, like, eight years. This last weekend, Josie, Ben, and Jim took me with them to Great America. I got my scaredy-cat ass on twisty rollercoasters and other some such rides that make me question my own decision-making abilities. “But why?” says you, “if’n you’re not a fan of the terrifying and ridiculous?” Oh, because my 11-year-old friend wasn’t scared. In fact, her fun had something to do with scaring the hell out of me. When she invited me to come on the day trip I told her that I’d be afraid, but I wouldn’t say no to any ride. Turns out I lied. Dearest Reader, I really couldn’t make myself go on the upside-down pirate ship from hell. Or the thing that drops you 22 stories in under four seconds. I offered Josie five bucks to not make me go on that one. She turned me down. What’s five dollars when you can watch a 30-year-old quiver with dread? But—bummer of all bummers—we didn’t have time for that ride. However—best of all good news—Jim so kindly got me a season pass.
• This next weekend I’m going to a wedding in an orchard.
• If you eat enough salt and vinegar potato chips in a row the acid will burn holes in your mouth. Somebody told me that. I didn’t discover it via experience.
• I graduated with a Masters degree in creative writing three months ago. Since then I have written nothing. Not one essay. Not a single paragraph for an essay. Not even a sentence for a paragraph for an essay. No outlining. No brainstorming. No notes. Do I feel guilty about this? I do. So I’m thinking very seriously about thinking very seriously about maybe doing something about that sometime.
• If ever you're looking for some wholesome entertainment, watch me put sheets on my bed. It's a king that's three feet tall. There's pulling. There's grunting. Heaving and ho-ing. And the whole show takes about 25 minutes.
• Oh, and an update for Leslie: I haven't yet mastered the art of cooking with my mind. However, I was listening to a Studio 360 podcast from Decemberish today, and I learned that EEG technology is helping folks use their minds to levitate, so extrasensory cookery can’t be all that far off. And until then at least we've got hands-free calling that can get the Chinese food delivery guy on the doorstep in 45 minutes or less.
Monday, April 15, 2013
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3 comments:
Good news on the cooking with your mind front. In the mean time, I'm thinking of hiring a personal chef. Eating out isn't a good option for me.
And hey - you HAVE been writing! Your blog entries are short, non-fiction essays. Highly entertaining and informative.
Ok next time in town you'd best say hey. Having friends over (even distant met-you-flying-now-see-you-online-sometimes friends) is what makes the garden reno all seem worth it. Meet the fam behind the man. Banter in the backyard. We'll even allow veggie burgers to sully the grill :). I can't promise DDP but if DP10 does the trick then we're in business. Plus how can you definitively say you've the cutest pup without checking out the competition? Think about it!
Those drug lords keep me on a tight leash when I'm at meetings on their time. But thanks for wanting my acerbic company, Ryan.
My dog really is the cutest. And the most annoying.
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