I love my life. I woke up rather early today and was kind of tossing and flailing about and then my back went "clunk!" which it does occasionally and it felt sooooooo good. I like when my back gets all nicely realigned after messing it up over the last two weeks humping IKEA plates into work five at a time to help save the environment. Wot?
Okay. Then Michael called and you know, I'll be truthful. I didn't think I could run 17 miles today. I didn't want to run 17 miles today. Do you know how far that is? It's really fucking far. But I had said I would and so I slouched down to Michael's and we headed out and we ran over the Iron Workers and I was feeling pretty good and then we hit Science World and went on to Granville Island and then over the Burrard Street bridge, and watched some of the triathletes (female heat - Michael was enraptured) and then ran over the Lionsgate and then back home. Holy fuck, batman! 27.5 kilometres later I was HUNGRY. So we went to this pub that we hadn't ever been to and we each had two beer and my god, if we weren't about to fall asleep in our chairs.
One of the women in my running clinic was due to come by for a some wine and appies at 7pm and I was totally behind the eight ball and had to get home to pick up some stuff and make my place look presentable. So at 6th Street I said, "Okay, I'll see you later" and Michael grabbed me a little forcefully around the waist and gave me a rather fervent kiss at 6th and Lonsdale, even though I hadn't showered and had onion breath and was wearing his hat which is a little too big for me on account of my pea-head. I love Michael. I love him so goddamn much it's ridiculous. I wish I could explain it. I wish I could explain the ribbing, the foot rubs, the way I don't have to explain anything because - four words into it - he gets exactly what I'm trying to say. How he was so quiet on Saturday morning that I didn't even hear him leave to go on his bike ride. The way he twitches when he sleeps. Carrying an extra gel for me today in case I "had a fit". The public spankings (not even kidding). How he is continually amazed that I have Neil Young and David Bowie on my play list. Taking my hand and randomly kissing it as we walked down to the pub.
Anyways, here is a post from my old blog from a year ago. My old blog came to an end in August of 2007 so I think I should have a bit of a party to celebrate in August 2008. Give a little re-cap on the year of Duder. It was an interesting year, for sure...
Okay. Then Michael called and you know, I'll be truthful. I didn't think I could run 17 miles today. I didn't want to run 17 miles today. Do you know how far that is? It's really fucking far. But I had said I would and so I slouched down to Michael's and we headed out and we ran over the Iron Workers and I was feeling pretty good and then we hit Science World and went on to Granville Island and then over the Burrard Street bridge, and watched some of the triathletes (female heat - Michael was enraptured) and then ran over the Lionsgate and then back home. Holy fuck, batman! 27.5 kilometres later I was HUNGRY. So we went to this pub that we hadn't ever been to and we each had two beer and my god, if we weren't about to fall asleep in our chairs.
One of the women in my running clinic was due to come by for a some wine and appies at 7pm and I was totally behind the eight ball and had to get home to pick up some stuff and make my place look presentable. So at 6th Street I said, "Okay, I'll see you later" and Michael grabbed me a little forcefully around the waist and gave me a rather fervent kiss at 6th and Lonsdale, even though I hadn't showered and had onion breath and was wearing his hat which is a little too big for me on account of my pea-head. I love Michael. I love him so goddamn much it's ridiculous. I wish I could explain it. I wish I could explain the ribbing, the foot rubs, the way I don't have to explain anything because - four words into it - he gets exactly what I'm trying to say. How he was so quiet on Saturday morning that I didn't even hear him leave to go on his bike ride. The way he twitches when he sleeps. Carrying an extra gel for me today in case I "had a fit". The public spankings (not even kidding). How he is continually amazed that I have Neil Young and David Bowie on my play list. Taking my hand and randomly kissing it as we walked down to the pub.
Anyways, here is a post from my old blog from a year ago. My old blog came to an end in August of 2007 so I think I should have a bit of a party to celebrate in August 2008. Give a little re-cap on the year of Duder. It was an interesting year, for sure...
Hodge podge
I was really tired on Friday and went to bed shortly after 11 after going to the gym. The highlight of my evening was when I went to Subway. I don't go there very often. It was really great. The fellow that made my sandwich had some issues with enunciation. The sub-making process went like this:
Subway guy: "Would you like to get toasted?"
Duder: "What?"
Subway guy: "Would you like it toasted?"
Duder: "Uh... yeah."
Subway guy: "Are you easy?"
Duder: "I'm sorry, what?"
Subway guy: "Did you want cheese?"
Duder: "Yes please."
Subway guy: "Do you feel that you have reached a point in your life where you are stagnating, and are simply spinning your proverbial wheels, waiting for your life to unfold and offer up its secrets to you?"
I was really tired on Friday and went to bed shortly after 11 after going to the gym. The highlight of my evening was when I went to Subway. I don't go there very often. It was really great. The fellow that made my sandwich had some issues with enunciation. The sub-making process went like this:
Subway guy: "Would you like to get toasted?"
Duder: "What?"
Subway guy: "Would you like it toasted?"
Duder: "Uh... yeah."
Subway guy: "Are you easy?"
Duder: "I'm sorry, what?"
Subway guy: "Did you want cheese?"
Duder: "Yes please."
Subway guy: "Do you feel that you have reached a point in your life where you are stagnating, and are simply spinning your proverbial wheels, waiting for your life to unfold and offer up its secrets to you?"
Duder (starting to cry): "What?!?"
Subway guy: "What else do you want on it."
Duder (sniffling): "Everything except for the hot peppers."
Subway guy: "Carrots?"
Duder: "Carrots? What are you... oh, you guys have shredded carrots now. No, no carrots. I'll have some chips though."
Saturday morning I had coffee with Big D whom I had not seen for a very long time. He admired the holes in my drywall. It rained pretty hard. I almost snorted cappuccino out of my nose when a woman, running to get out of the rain, kind of ran into the door of the coffee shop. She had attempted a run/push the door open combo which went horribly awry because you have to pull the door to open it. The expression on her face was the human equivalent of what sparrows must look like when the collide with newly windexed glass. I guess I was an asshole to laugh, but it was pretty funny.
Michael came over later in the afternoon, and we watched Shaun of the Dead, which he hadn't yet seen. That's some funny shit. He also brought me treats, so he is currently my favourite person in the world. Then we went and met up with A, JupiterGirl and her new beau. Let's find a nickname for him. Let's call him... Salty. I was very happy to meet Salty: he was friendly, easy going, had a good sense of humor and seemed very relaxed. Michael liked him too.
It was great to JupiterGirl again; I hadn't seen her since she moved to the Island at the end of April. She looked good: tanned, kind of hippyish. She indicated that the "beeping" was getting to her. I said that I can't fall asleep at night unless I hear a car alarm going off, someone drag racing down 41st and the rustle of money being counted over in Shaughnessy. Then I dropped Michael off at the seabus, tried to watch MadTV, but decided sleep was more interesting.
Today! Brunch with N and Po. N is dating up a storm: I think she has one appointment every hour or something. I was exhausted just hearing about all the dates she has lined up. Po is in the fun dating limbo known as I-assumed-that-our-relationship-had-reached-a-point-whereby-it-was-felt-by-both-of-us-that-it-was-exclusive-so-why-do-you-still-have-an-online-dating-profile-up, and she's debating how to proceed. Because she is a rational, calm person I am sure she will deal with it in a rational, calm manner. My suggestion was to send strangely cryptic emails to him, whereby the problem becomes confusing and exacerbated and ultimately no one will know what the hell is going on. You know, because that's a fun thing to do.
Then I went home. Michael terrified me by regaling me with his first running clinic experience (my clinic starts on Thursday). He had been under the impression that they would be doing an 8km run. That impression was wrong: it was an 8 mile run, so like 13km or so. And he said that he was in the slow group. Well shit. He's significantly faster than I am. Maybe they'll just watch me run with my little egg-beater legs and, at the end of the run when they're all loitering at the finish line, waiting for me to cross with my little arms pumping like pistons and they'll hand me my money back and say, "You're too slow to run with the big dogs".
Then I went to Pier 1 and bought a little desk and chair because my laptop set up was, er, retarded to say the least. Now it's less so. Now it's like a normal human girl lives here. With her holes.
Duder (sniffling): "Everything except for the hot peppers."
Subway guy: "Carrots?"
Duder: "Carrots? What are you... oh, you guys have shredded carrots now. No, no carrots. I'll have some chips though."
Saturday morning I had coffee with Big D whom I had not seen for a very long time. He admired the holes in my drywall. It rained pretty hard. I almost snorted cappuccino out of my nose when a woman, running to get out of the rain, kind of ran into the door of the coffee shop. She had attempted a run/push the door open combo which went horribly awry because you have to pull the door to open it. The expression on her face was the human equivalent of what sparrows must look like when the collide with newly windexed glass. I guess I was an asshole to laugh, but it was pretty funny.
Michael came over later in the afternoon, and we watched Shaun of the Dead, which he hadn't yet seen. That's some funny shit. He also brought me treats, so he is currently my favourite person in the world. Then we went and met up with A, JupiterGirl and her new beau. Let's find a nickname for him. Let's call him... Salty. I was very happy to meet Salty: he was friendly, easy going, had a good sense of humor and seemed very relaxed. Michael liked him too.
It was great to JupiterGirl again; I hadn't seen her since she moved to the Island at the end of April. She looked good: tanned, kind of hippyish. She indicated that the "beeping" was getting to her. I said that I can't fall asleep at night unless I hear a car alarm going off, someone drag racing down 41st and the rustle of money being counted over in Shaughnessy. Then I dropped Michael off at the seabus, tried to watch MadTV, but decided sleep was more interesting.
Today! Brunch with N and Po. N is dating up a storm: I think she has one appointment every hour or something. I was exhausted just hearing about all the dates she has lined up. Po is in the fun dating limbo known as I-assumed-that-our-relationship-had-reached-a-point-whereby-it-was-felt-by-both-of-us-that-it-was-exclusive-so-why-do-you-still-have-an-online-dating-profile-up, and she's debating how to proceed. Because she is a rational, calm person I am sure she will deal with it in a rational, calm manner. My suggestion was to send strangely cryptic emails to him, whereby the problem becomes confusing and exacerbated and ultimately no one will know what the hell is going on. You know, because that's a fun thing to do.
Then I went home. Michael terrified me by regaling me with his first running clinic experience (my clinic starts on Thursday). He had been under the impression that they would be doing an 8km run. That impression was wrong: it was an 8 mile run, so like 13km or so. And he said that he was in the slow group. Well shit. He's significantly faster than I am. Maybe they'll just watch me run with my little egg-beater legs and, at the end of the run when they're all loitering at the finish line, waiting for me to cross with my little arms pumping like pistons and they'll hand me my money back and say, "You're too slow to run with the big dogs".
Then I went to Pier 1 and bought a little desk and chair because my laptop set up was, er, retarded to say the least. Now it's less so. Now it's like a normal human girl lives here. With her holes.
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