UPDATE: It is confirmed: I will be in Seattle November 11-14. I bought the tickets a minute ago. I'd love to stay longer, but classes won't allow for it. Also, my mother would bludgeon me with her cooking spoon if I wasn't home in CT for Thanksgiving.
***
I think my new exercise plan is going to kill me. POEE keeps arguing that hard lifting is good for me. Somehow, I just don't agree. Pounding on my leg muscles until I need anti-inflammatories to walk the next day seems counter-intuative. *shrug*
I've started running, too. I hate running. Yet there I am every morning at quarter-to-seven, bounding through downtown for thirty minutes. (Actually, "bounding" is too glorious a word; my running is ugly.) The fact that I agreed to do this daily is even more odd - esp. considering that my trainer over the summer asked me not to do any cardio at all. "Why?" you ask? He was worried I'd lose more weight...
Honestly, I'm not bitching. I'm not allowed to, really. I just find my continual exercise schemes rather, well, all-or-nothing. Sometimes they scare me. I keep telling myself that I'm trying to find that legendary "happy medium." Instead, though, I usually find myself in the gym five days a week - like now.
Perhaps it'd make perfect sense if I were sharing my bed? Then I'd at least have an excuse for the body image thing. Alas, I have the whole bed to myself and my workout habits are slightly obsessive.
***
My laptop remains in its state of limbo. It turns on and I can use some of the programs, but anytime I attempt to open the "My Documents" folder, it takes nearly five minutes to bring up the window. That's not hyperbole. What's more, when I can finally see all of my Word files on screen, if I so much as highlight one of them the machine freezes. I'll give you one guess where all of my writing projects (my screenplay, my novella, my stort stories, and everything Mercurial) are...
My roommate was supposed to work his mojo today. After a few minutes of fiddling, however, he gave up.
"I have no idea what this thing's doing, dude. It must be your entropic touch. Seriously," he said. Ergo, no vanilla milkshake for me tonight.
***
Edited to add this link. Ah, curiosity.
***
I think my new exercise plan is going to kill me. POEE keeps arguing that hard lifting is good for me. Somehow, I just don't agree. Pounding on my leg muscles until I need anti-inflammatories to walk the next day seems counter-intuative. *shrug*
I've started running, too. I hate running. Yet there I am every morning at quarter-to-seven, bounding through downtown for thirty minutes. (Actually, "bounding" is too glorious a word; my running is ugly.) The fact that I agreed to do this daily is even more odd - esp. considering that my trainer over the summer asked me not to do any cardio at all. "Why?" you ask? He was worried I'd lose more weight...
Honestly, I'm not bitching. I'm not allowed to, really. I just find my continual exercise schemes rather, well, all-or-nothing. Sometimes they scare me. I keep telling myself that I'm trying to find that legendary "happy medium." Instead, though, I usually find myself in the gym five days a week - like now.
Perhaps it'd make perfect sense if I were sharing my bed? Then I'd at least have an excuse for the body image thing. Alas, I have the whole bed to myself and my workout habits are slightly obsessive.
***
My laptop remains in its state of limbo. It turns on and I can use some of the programs, but anytime I attempt to open the "My Documents" folder, it takes nearly five minutes to bring up the window. That's not hyperbole. What's more, when I can finally see all of my Word files on screen, if I so much as highlight one of them the machine freezes. I'll give you one guess where all of my writing projects (my screenplay, my novella, my stort stories, and everything Mercurial) are...
My roommate was supposed to work his mojo today. After a few minutes of fiddling, however, he gave up.
"I have no idea what this thing's doing, dude. It must be your entropic touch. Seriously," he said. Ergo, no vanilla milkshake for me tonight.
***
Edited to add this link. Ah, curiosity.
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Do you still need material for Mercurial? I'm sorry I punked out earlier, but I was in a writing funk.