Foaming At The Mouth
Understimulated
As part of my ongoing fitness conciousness, I recent made my strongest ever efforts to abstain from alcohol. This is quite a challenge for me because I simply love drinking. It's one of my favorite things to do in this world. But I thought it was time for mind over matter to get the full benefit of all that time I've been putting in at the gym. The other week's SGChicago event at Piece was great fun, even without the benefit of drinks.
But the next night, at a friend-of-a-friend's Memorial Day cookout, I started feeling some genuine withdrawal. And it was the weirdest feeling. Some sort of inner Borat kept urging me to do something completely off-putting or awkward. The uptightness inside me was welling up and starting to bubble over. The good news is that I did the sensible thing, broke down and had myself a beer. And things were a lot better after that...
Now I told you all that to tell you this: I've been out in the suburbs housesitting since last Wednesday, and the general plasticized nature of the suburbs has had me drinking like a damned fish. Sitting in the car going from place to place is just so deadening! Friday I drove down to Orland Park (from Mt. Prospect, about hour-and-fifteen minutes on 355, then the Stevenson Expy., and then the hinterlands of the south suburbs, then of course the return trip later) to see my best friend John for dinner. Saturday, up to Deerfield for a pig roast (about 45 minutes each way). Yesterday, when I headed out to Glen Ellyn, by the time I got there, the cumulative effect of a weekend's worth of the vibrations of the car and the humming of those goddamn cicadas was almost enough to put me in a straightjacket. But untitledrequest was there and she had the cure: several tall cold ones. Lord help me if I don't get my medicine! I have relearned something I figured out almost fifteen years ago: The suburbs are a nice enough place to visit, but I don't want to live there. How the people out here do it without going nuts is beyond me.
Understimulated
As part of my ongoing fitness conciousness, I recent made my strongest ever efforts to abstain from alcohol. This is quite a challenge for me because I simply love drinking. It's one of my favorite things to do in this world. But I thought it was time for mind over matter to get the full benefit of all that time I've been putting in at the gym. The other week's SGChicago event at Piece was great fun, even without the benefit of drinks.
But the next night, at a friend-of-a-friend's Memorial Day cookout, I started feeling some genuine withdrawal. And it was the weirdest feeling. Some sort of inner Borat kept urging me to do something completely off-putting or awkward. The uptightness inside me was welling up and starting to bubble over. The good news is that I did the sensible thing, broke down and had myself a beer. And things were a lot better after that...
Now I told you all that to tell you this: I've been out in the suburbs housesitting since last Wednesday, and the general plasticized nature of the suburbs has had me drinking like a damned fish. Sitting in the car going from place to place is just so deadening! Friday I drove down to Orland Park (from Mt. Prospect, about hour-and-fifteen minutes on 355, then the Stevenson Expy., and then the hinterlands of the south suburbs, then of course the return trip later) to see my best friend John for dinner. Saturday, up to Deerfield for a pig roast (about 45 minutes each way). Yesterday, when I headed out to Glen Ellyn, by the time I got there, the cumulative effect of a weekend's worth of the vibrations of the car and the humming of those goddamn cicadas was almost enough to put me in a straightjacket. But untitledrequest was there and she had the cure: several tall cold ones. Lord help me if I don't get my medicine! I have relearned something I figured out almost fifteen years ago: The suburbs are a nice enough place to visit, but I don't want to live there. How the people out here do it without going nuts is beyond me.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
annisa:
the picture of your bum din't show 
untitledrequest:
its new... taken tuesday eve... say, thanks!