Better at the Bedroom Version

I was trying to find a video that sufficiently captured the quality of my golf swing, and instead stumbled on this. I'd forgotten about that Blendtec guy.

I did not slice and dice any golf balls today during my first-ever lesson. However, this does rather well symbolize the quality of my technique.

So far, it doesn't look like quitting my job and going golf pro is in my near future. But that's okay. I'm getting through this with a bottle glass of wine. That makes everything better.

Colorless

I am tired of coughing. I'm sure my coworkers are tired of my coughing, too. It's almost a joke at the office at this point: people have stopped asking if I'm all right while I'm in the middle of an especially violent fit, and instead just make funny comments about the audibility of my cooties. By the time I have control enough to speak and come back with a witty quip, they've already left the room or gone back to their press release.

I've also probably hacked up enough mucus in the last couple of weeks to feed a mob of holy anorexics. At least the phlegm I'm expectorating has stopped being in the range of bright green to solid yellow, and started to fade into the light daffodil to clear spectrum. I think that means I am getting better.

That's all. For now. Expect more adventures coming up, such as the hilarity of my first golf lesson (this coming Saturday, weather and personal health permitting); the people you meet while riding a community bus route; and an explanation of the new little countdown thingy to the below right of this very blog entry.

Extended Family

I drove back into town early last night, the trip from Eugene not as bad I had expected, what with the head cold and all.



I realize now that I took hardly any pictures of my trip to the Pacific Northwest this time around. Perhaps because I've been there, done that, a few times before. Not to say I was bored on this trip at all — just that it was more of a mental refresh than a fancy new adventure.

And that suited me just fine.

I found on this trip a reminder that there's two kinds of family: the one you're born into, and the one you accumulate through friendships. It's easy to forget about the latter when I'm embroiled in a cloak of depression and routine. It was such a relief to let go just a little and be one of the parts of myself that doesn't get a chance to escape too often.

Because really, that's what family is: the people who know you so well that you let go around them, emotionally and psychologically and mentally. You act with them differently than you would around the rest of the world and — if they're the good kind of family — you know that pretty much no matter what you do they'll still open the door and let you crash and vent and release.

So. Easter weekend I stayed with Steph, whom I've known since high school and survived Epic Farts with and we still haven't yet killed her, and together we pretty much acted like we were still in high school: driving around town, spending too much money on stuff, hanging out at the bookstore (Oh, Powell's, how I love you so) (I controlled myself, by the way: only spent $180!) (Mostly because the basket was getting too heavy for me to carry it anymore. And Steph needed to move the car, so it was time to leave.), eating, and poking around in nature looking for rocks.

The week after was spent with the Kirkland Crew, and working out of my company's Seattle office. Most of the trip involved drinking and bullshitting, board games and bad movies. A night of dinner and wine with Emily and her new beau, happy hour on Friday with the coworkers, and a couple excursions to Pike Place Market pretty much rounded out the trip. The drive down was eased by a stopover in Eugene with my cousin Ryan, the weather was nice enough for a walk before dinner, and then a soft warm bed to pass out in before making the final journey back to San Francisco.



Nothing terribly exciting to report, then. At least, not about my vacation. Maybe my happiest vacations are the least eventful ones. The big adventure, however, is coming up this late summer/early fall. Hopefully that will make up for all of this.

The Insanity of Nostalgia

It's been high time for a while now for me to go through my chest of drawers and do a purge of clothes I no longer wear. I had to be harsh on myself this time: I have a lot of stuff in there, much of it hasn't seen daylight in months (or years), and some of it I've been keeping around in the fruitless hope that I will lose the weight and be able to wear it again. (Cue the laugh track.)

To keep me occupied (and to drown out the loud TV noise of my somewhat-selfish upstairs neighbor) I popped in one of my old "The Dynamic Groovy Music Hour" tapes. If you've been paying attention, you may know that this was my old program from my college radio days. This particular tape was of the last show of my Freshman year. I've got the basics down, but I talk so damn much — it would be amazing that I had any listeners at all, if I didn't also have good taste in music. Most of these songs I haven't listened to in about a decade, so it's been nice to revisit them.

Then I found this gem, and it touched a chord deep within me. This one definitely fell out of the cracks of my brain, but I kind of wish I had the chance to play it for one person in particular. It's definitely ridiculous, even though I still catch myself from time to time having those exact feelings. (Like, for instance, when a certain jerkface completely forgets my birthday. Still bothering me. I thought I'd be over all that by now. Guess I'm not.)

You should see the blogs I write but don't post on here. Better yet: you shouldn't. Those are the ones I write just to vent those feelings out into some sort of medium, and then lock up away. Hoping they will disappear, out of sight, out of mind.

At any rate, I should get back to cleaning. The clothes have been purged, and the ones that are left actually fit(!) in the drawers, which is nothing short of a miracle. A week of being too busy to think has left the rest of my apartment in a state of anarchy, and now that I've finally recovered (and my date for the evening has been canceled), I can put some focus into clearing the chaos.

ETA: Something else I re-discovered in K7-land: