1) Muscle fatigue, or I'm getting to old for this.
At Hip-Hop class last night, Laurel tried to kill me. There was this combination of walk x8 punch kick punch kick run spin POW that was fun at first, but the more we danced - including the fall to the floor convulse crawl crawl technique - the more fatigued my right quad became. By the time we ran through the routine four times at the end, I couldn't control the spin. It was almost sad, but I think it ended up just plain funny. And I think John would've caught me. Eventually.
2) Seems like old times, or where have you been for 17 years?
After 17 years without talking to each other, my friend Eric and I now talk regularly and plan to eat food together when opportunity strikes. I love that, back then, it was very much the same, except in 1992, Indian food wasn't readily available. Food and conversations seem to be a constant with all of my good friends. It's gratifying to realize that this has been a part of me for as long as I've been making true friends.
3) Can you hear me now?, or totally tubular.
Kelly was deaf a few weeks ago. She saw Dr. Mel Gibson last week and it looks like she might be on the mend. Tubes: they're not just for watersports anymore.
4) Don't go backward, or swimming through pudding.
I continue to struggle with ... oh, let's call them "financial challenges." But every day I'm getting a clearer picture, coming to terms with the error of my ways, and moving forward, making better choices. This very real and honest approach to money has been coming for three years; it's the last challenge in the wake of my failed marriage. My head is out of the sand, which makes it so much easier to see.
5) Does anybody really know what time it is?, or maybe I'll replace the battery.
I haven't worn a watch since I got out of college. I was so bound by the clock in those days, always needing to be somewhere at some time - in class by 8 a.m., at work at 11, at Friends & Co. by 9 - so when I took off the timepiece in the summer of '97, I didn't put one back on. And I'm starting to miss it. Back in the Days of Stu, we bought each other watches; it was our "thing." The fine people at Disney gave me a beautiful watch as a wedding gift. There's also one that once belonged to Tucson Mike that's in a drawer, somewhere, tucked away after it's mood dial ceased to be moody. Maybe I should dust one of them off, replace the batteries, and wear it ... to remind me of the time today, and times long since passed that made me who I am.
6) Squishing a baby, or why do they live so far away?
This weekend, my CharlieDad, Evil Stepmother and fake stepsister will be visiting Bex, Matt and Alice (and Izzie, but she won't have much to say.) So this weekend will also find me in the Aurora area, visiting with my biological family and dropping in on Clan Rice/Carlson/Bathje. I love it when they visit, and I love visiting them. I hate it when we part ways. But I'm not focusing on that. I'm focusing on the love I'll get to soak up from two of my families, and the giggles that ensue when I'm around Alice.
7) It's only a 5k, or there's never been a better reason to run.
Yes, I'm still going to run the Bunny Dash 5K in Palatine on April 4. Yes, I realize I need my head examined. But I contacted the organizers of the run, they assured me (after telling me that my e-mail was the most entertaining they'd received all week, in part because I admitted that I generally don't run unless someone's chasing me with a knife) that the run is designed for serious athletes and fun-seekers alike. And you know me - always up for a challenge, especially when fun is allowed. It's like three miles; I can so do this.
8) The opposite of tragic, or dis-tragic meat.
We could argue the meaning of "tragedy" all day long and still not come to a consensus, because I believe it's a largely subjective term. One man's tragedy isn't even in another man's top ten. But the opposite of tragedy, or tragic, would be spending a Friday evening at my place with a home-grilled burger (medium, thank you, topped with Colby,) some potato salad and "Across the Universe" on DVD, served up with the company of none other than Shakespeare. The opposite of tragic. Un-tragic. Anti-tragic. Dis-tragic. Or maybe ... Awesome?
9) Speaking of meat, or I miss Diane.
Really, totally stream of consciousness here. My friend Di is married to a guy named Justin, whom we affectionately call "Meat." This dates back to a huge slab of chicken-fried steak he ordered up at Rock Bottom years ago; the name stuck, and all these years later, I can't think of meat without thinking of Justin. Oh, get your minds out of the gutter. Anyway, that only serves to remind me that it's been at least a month since I've visited them, and I'm going to have to call them right away. I need a dose of baby love, Eva love and Aidan love, and I know just where to get it!
10) I can taste the difference, or moo.
I've started to pay a little more attention to my groceries. I'm cutting corners wherever I can in order to save money, but I'm also investing in a few items that are really high quality. Organic milk, cage-free eggs and local produce is now part of my shopping each week. And I swear, I can taste the difference. I pay a little bit more - and only just a little bit - to feel good about what I'm putting into my body. Don't even get me started on the Valencia orange/mango juice; decadent beyond measure, and so worth it.