Push ups

I haven't been very healthy lately, I've still been taking all my vitamins and everything but my two minute noodle intake has risen by about 500%.

So I thought I would do some exercise but unfortunately it was raining outside, so why not improvise?

I started off by doing a twenty minute run up and down the stairs.. which was kinda fun in an incredibly dorky way. Up.. down.. up.. down.. by the end I was fatigued and I tripped up the stairs and tumbled onto the landing. This was not just any tumble. It was a somersault and a half. I lay on the floor stunned and then I just laughed at myself for five minutes. Good thing I'm living by myself and no-one could see me sprawled in hysterics on the floor.

next! sit ups! the muffin top is still there.. I guess that can't be helped. By twenty sit ups. I might be expecting too much [You know.. the Hello Kitty tattoo is only a year old and it seems to be faded already, should I be going in for a touch up or something?]

And then push ups. It's been a long time between push ups [actual push ups and not sexual push ups, you sick puppies] and I found that I couldn't do any "men's" push ups anymore and I could only do those "girly" ones.

Let me explain the difference, "mens" push ups are the ones where you lift up your entire body weight by arm strength. "Girly" push ups are the ones on your knees where you push forward [even in exercise the girls are on their knees...]

I can't put my finger on really why this irritated me, other than the fact that I'm unable to lift my own body weight.

I was bemoaning this to Mexicana who just said in her sensible way.. "you're a girl, it's a girl push up. " .. "But.. but I used to be able to do a men's push up!"

None of this, of course, was helped by the fact that Minnie kept attacking my face thinking I was trying to play with her. "Leave me alone! I am trying to exercise! GHDFHGDFHD"

Clearly the elements are working against me and don't want me to exercise.

[oh Sex on fire by Kings of Leon is an excellent song to workout to.. "whoaaaaaa! your sex is on fiiire!"]

D is for Desmond

When we were seventeen, Alphabeta and I had a friend called Des. We had seen him briefly in person but we talked to him mostly over the internet. This was put down to what we assumed was extreme shyness.

One day Alphabeta sat me down and said that he wasn’t shy but he was traumatized. Des was in the city one night with a friend when they encountered some youths who demanded his wallet. His friend handed over his straight away. But Des refused and was put into hospital as a result.

He never talked to his friend again, he regarded it as a betrayal. And from that he slowly slipped inwards, he never really left the house unless he had to.

From my seventeen year old mind, I didn’t really understand [well of course I’d also never been beaten to a pulp] and I was frustrated with what I perceived to be his stubbornness in getting back out and living his life. Rainbows, butterflies and trips to the beach. How could he be so blind and not see these things??

So I thought I would take the hard tack and I told him that what he was doing was an utter waste of life. That he was a coward for hiding out and living his life from his bedroom.

Des never talked to me again after that

http://www.smh.com.au/news/national/balcony-fall-teens-parents-travelling-to-sydney/2008/10/28/1224956014962.html

I read this in the papers today. It broke my heart. I think of her just trying to get through the experience. I think of him who has to live with so many scars physically and emotionally, and I wonder if he will become like Des. I wonder what Des is doing now.

One for the road

Q. Why did the woman cross the road?

A. Who cares why?! She shouldn't have been let out of the kitchen! Chain her back to the sink!



[This is only funny when I tell it. Nobody with half a penis should ever attempt to tell this joke]

Feeling wistful lately

Toast

So today is a new day and despite everything I have to get up and live life as per normal.

I have to eat. And I haven't eaten properly for two [two!] weeks now so I decided to hack into some toast.

Halfway as I was eating, it occurred to me that if there were any miracle Jesus faces on my toast, it would be all gone now and it would be a downright waste of miracle [that is if God was sending me any to cheer me up]

But then I thought about it, and I felt sorry for those people who spend all their time studying their breakfast as opposed to eating it.

Wouldn't it just ruin your breakfast if you received Jesus toast and then every morning after you popped more bread in the toaster.. nothing? It wouldn't be such a great start to the day.
Breakfast of course being the most important part of the day [says the food industry].

You and me are floating on a tidal wave

I don't know how to condense eleven years of memories into an appropriate essay. My skills as a writer are failing me.

I mean this to be a goodbye to my best friend. Who listened to me patiently everyday for the last eight years. Who saw my physical flaws and didn't flinch. Who steadfastly put up with every family dinner, every crazy fight and every unreliable friend.

For sharing my tears
For being my backbone when I had none

My words fail me because I cannot aptly put into words how much these eight years have meant to me, for you to have been with me every step of the way. I can't adequately express it.

It's time for me to go it alone.

I love you.
Please take care of yourself.