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fingers and toes
Jan. 9th, 2006 12:06 pmTook Friday off to be there for the City Of Somerville to come and inspect my condo-building, there were a few things slightly out of code – we’re not supposed to store more than 6 dead bodies in each basement alcove, and the meth lab needs 3 fire extinguishers, not 2; but all in all we’re in pretty good shape. I want to put in a hot lava pit by the secret hovercraft entrance and I’m not sure if I’ll need a permit for that, but what the hell this is Somerville, they let all kinds of stuff slide here.
In the morning I went to MGH for the needs-be-in-person results getting of the HIV portion of the annual icky-disease screening; everything’s clear (woo!). I been doing this for like fifteen years and more, always come up clean but the sobering introspective part always feels important and good. I think I’m ever so slightly getting less freaked-out by the blood drawing, but I’m still way chicken about needles. And the nurse hooked me up with a tetanus booster too so now I walk on rusty nails with impunity!
Saturday morning I tried Hot Yoga, maybe they call it Power Yoga but soon as you walk into the room you know it’s really Hot Yoga; they put the thermostat up to about 90 and I guess the whole point is the high temperature loosens and lengthens your muscles and joint-bits and you’re sweating out all the impurities and whatnot. And you do sweat bucketses, I was in Downward Dog and I looked down my body and there was this pitter-patter rain of sweat falling off my chest onto the towel underneath me, most guys there wear no shirt and the hicks wear sport-tanks not as an annoying ooh-look-at-my-bod affectation it’s more so you don’t faint from heatstroke. Oog. I drank lots of water before and lots and lots and LOTS of water after but still my head and body felt kinda achey and woogy all the rest of the day. If I try this again I think I’ll do a Sunday late afternoon class, so any woogy feeling will go into the general chillout lumpy feeling that most Sunday evenings tend to be. And maybe I won’t drink as much tequila the night before.
So Saturday night about all I as up for was hanging out with Heatray and Tegin, drinking beers and watching Starsky & Hutch, which is actually a pretty entertaining movie; Ben Stiller’s pretty cool, I really gotta see this Zoolander movie everyone insists is so great. Starsky & Hutch is neat because half the time you’re laughing at how good a time Owen Wilson and Ben Stiller are having, more than how funny the material actually is. Is there a word for that kind of funny? I spose it’s kinda like how people liked Frank and Dean and Sammy and the rest of the Rat Pack - not for extraordinarily well-written material but because it was fun to just see those guys goof on each other.
Sunday after some bouldering I met Julishka to bop around Newbury Street (French Connection’s having a sale, I bought pants) and then we ice skated on the Frog Pond, and then went to the Pierce Brosnan aging burned-out assassin movie, The Matador. It was totally cute, and the best role I’ve ever seen Pierce Brosnan in, way more interesting than Bond.
Ooh god, Monday. Things fall apart, here at work, time to put stuff back together.
In the morning I went to MGH for the needs-be-in-person results getting of the HIV portion of the annual icky-disease screening; everything’s clear (woo!). I been doing this for like fifteen years and more, always come up clean but the sobering introspective part always feels important and good. I think I’m ever so slightly getting less freaked-out by the blood drawing, but I’m still way chicken about needles. And the nurse hooked me up with a tetanus booster too so now I walk on rusty nails with impunity!
Saturday morning I tried Hot Yoga, maybe they call it Power Yoga but soon as you walk into the room you know it’s really Hot Yoga; they put the thermostat up to about 90 and I guess the whole point is the high temperature loosens and lengthens your muscles and joint-bits and you’re sweating out all the impurities and whatnot. And you do sweat bucketses, I was in Downward Dog and I looked down my body and there was this pitter-patter rain of sweat falling off my chest onto the towel underneath me, most guys there wear no shirt and the hicks wear sport-tanks not as an annoying ooh-look-at-my-bod affectation it’s more so you don’t faint from heatstroke. Oog. I drank lots of water before and lots and lots and LOTS of water after but still my head and body felt kinda achey and woogy all the rest of the day. If I try this again I think I’ll do a Sunday late afternoon class, so any woogy feeling will go into the general chillout lumpy feeling that most Sunday evenings tend to be. And maybe I won’t drink as much tequila the night before.
So Saturday night about all I as up for was hanging out with Heatray and Tegin, drinking beers and watching Starsky & Hutch, which is actually a pretty entertaining movie; Ben Stiller’s pretty cool, I really gotta see this Zoolander movie everyone insists is so great. Starsky & Hutch is neat because half the time you’re laughing at how good a time Owen Wilson and Ben Stiller are having, more than how funny the material actually is. Is there a word for that kind of funny? I spose it’s kinda like how people liked Frank and Dean and Sammy and the rest of the Rat Pack - not for extraordinarily well-written material but because it was fun to just see those guys goof on each other.
Sunday after some bouldering I met Julishka to bop around Newbury Street (French Connection’s having a sale, I bought pants) and then we ice skated on the Frog Pond, and then went to the Pierce Brosnan aging burned-out assassin movie, The Matador. It was totally cute, and the best role I’ve ever seen Pierce Brosnan in, way more interesting than Bond.
Ooh god, Monday. Things fall apart, here at work, time to put stuff back together.
