Because You Really Wanted to Know

I’m so tired right now, I can barely keep my eyes open.  I was going call in sick to work today, so I could sleep in, and take care of some of the nagging household stuff that needs to be done before going to my session with my personal trainer tonight.  I didn’t, largely because by the time I woke up enough to do it, it was kind of late, and it would’ve seemed like I was calling in “sick” because I was going to  be late for work.  So I went to work after all, and I was really only about ten minutes later than usual and that’s because I forgot my badge and had to get a  visitor badge from the security desk.

Wednesday, after work, I went to the gym to walk/run on the treadmill.  I made it about 30 minutes, but the pain in my shins was just getting worse and worse and I  couldn’t keep running.  I had planned to stop and do the cool down at 30  minutes, but then I got distracted by something on TV (Anderson Cooper) and I  ended up walking about fifteen more minutes, which is probably not an entirely bad thing, except that my shins still hurt today and it’s been five days.  I’m concerned that I’m doing more harm than good on that front and I’m trying to figure out the  solution.

It was during one of my walking spurts that I saw (and heard) out of the corner of  my eye, the person on the treadmill to my left, slap the stop button and start to  disembark from her treadmill.  I have a pet peeve about people just hitting the stop button and walking away.  It takes the treadmill two minutes to return to stand-by  mode and since there’s often a line of people waiting to use them it takes less  than two minutes for the next person to come along.  I can’t tell you how many  times I’ve watched people stand there and fight with the treadmill because they  can’t figure out how to make it start, simply because it’s still showing the last  persons work-out summary (and if I can breath enough to tell them, I do, but I  usually can’t.)  When my treadmill neighbor hit the button, I glanced that direction, looking at the display of her treadmill and not at her.  Suddenly, I heard “Hi Kevin!”  I looked up and, sure enough, it was Lil’B’s mother!  I had been on the treadmill right next to her for 30 minutes and hadn’t even noticed, I was that much in my own little world.

I haven’t been back to the gym since Wednesday and I’m frustrated.  I have my session with the trainer tonight and I will go, and I’ll talk to him about the shin splints and see what he tells me.

On Friday, I went, for the first time, to the Coming Out support group.  I got there ten minutes or so late, not because I was trying to be late but because my brother  popped up on my MSN Messenger and I got caught up with him.  I walked into the room and there were three people there, including the facilitator.  As it turned out  the third person was observing for some reason that wasn’t explained and so there was only one “participant” until I arrived.  As I suspected, I was the oldest person  there, besides the facilitator, but it wasn’t so bad.  I will go back.  The thing with stuff like this, is that it’s the going the first time that’s so difficult.  Now that I’ve  been it’ll be no big deal. I’m sorry.  I know after all the build up and anxiety that I expressed, this is rather anti-climactic, but it is what it is.

Saturday, was laundry day and I went to Michelle’s house for the day.  I was expressly forbidden (by Michelle) from buying a car which would delay the laundry washing process…  So we went shopping instead.  I bought mostly household necessities: toiletries, vitamins, Diet Pepsi, but I also bought an artificial Christmas tree and a few new decorations.   I already owned a tree that was only  four feet tall.  I bought it when I lived in a studio apartment in San Francisco, and the only place I had to put up a tree was my bay window.  The four footer was  perfect.  Now I have no place to put a four foot tree and I’ve been wanting to get a  full sized one.  I had a lot of laundry and didn’t get home until after 1:00 Sunday morning.

We watched a lot of TV shows and movies, including Sex and the City (the movie, not the TV show).  We had discussed the movie over lunch and it became apparent that I didn’t remember it particularly well.  Interestingly, Michelle  remembers the movie really well, but doesn’t remember anything else of  significance of the night we saw it in the theater.  I, on the other hand, was very preoccupied while we were watching it that first time because I had made up my mind that this was the day I was going to tell Michelle I am gay.  A year and a half later, I suppose in a way, I should be glad that it’s not any more significant to her  than this and it doesn’t stand out for her.

Sunday, I got up around 9:00 and had to do a bit of house cleaning.  Lil’B and I were just going to hang out at my house and I wanted to make the place a bit more presentable.  I emptied the contents of two full hampers of clean and folded  laundry onto my bed to put away later.  I also wanted to assemble my Christmas tree, though, I never did have time to decorate it.  At this moment there is a 6’6”  artificial Christmas tree, with nothing on it but a star shaped tree topper, standing  in my living room.

I picked Lil’B up at our usual time of 2:00 and we went to pick up a pizza (Take ‘n  Bake).  We took it back to my house and I started the oven up while presenting  our options to the boy.  Play a board game, watch a movie or both.  He chose  movie followed by board game (as I assumed he would.)  I told him to pick something from my library of more than 400 DVDs.  I have holiday movies, kids’  movies, action/adventure movies, super hero movies.  Out of 400 DVDs this kid  picked Superman.  Not Superman Returns…  Superman. Love this kid!  After the movie we played two games of Junior Monopoly before I took him home.  After I dropped him off I went back to Target to pick up a few things I forgot on Saturday.  Back home I heated up some of the pizza and ate dinner while fishing on  Facebook (Gotta log in everyday or I don’t go on the night fishing trip) and then I  set up the iron and ironing board.  It was already 10:00 so I only ironed one shirt  and one pair of pants so I’d have something to wear today.  And then it was time to go to bed…

Bathroom and nightly grooming rituals before bed and into the room I went.  Oh look, mountain of laundry to put away.  Once again, I didn’t get to bed until nearly  1:00.

I’m so tired right now, I can barely keep my eyes open.

Bait and Swtich

So unless you’ve been living under a rock, or you’re one of the rare few,  non-American people who pays any attention to (or have accidentally stumbled  across) my blog (and even then you probably know) that this past week-end was a long holiday week-end, starting with Thanksgiving on Thursday and ending with the worst case of the Monday’s you can fathom all year.

I was going to write a post about how I spent my Friday with my friend Heather who I’ve known and been very close to since before I moved to California and who I love dearly with all my heart and if only she were a boy (and shared my feelings), I’d move heaven and earth to be with her, but she isn’t  and she doesn’t, so it matters not.  I was going to include the fact that on Friday along with Heather I  “got to” spend the day with her eleven year old son and her 30-something fiancé  and his seventeen year old son.  I was going to write a post about how things  didn’t go particularly well (by my estimation) and how upsetting it was to me and  all the conflicting (conflicted?) emotions I’m feeling about it.  It was going to be really good, too, and you were going to cry.

But instead, I did.  And I couldn’t write the post, because the truth is, I’m not really entirely sure what it should say, or what I want to share and I’m reverting to my  traditional standpoint of ignoring it all and pretending everything is fine because I’m  not sure how to handle the reality of the situation and so instead of writing this splendid post that would have been tremendously heart wrenching I’m going to share something stupid and pointless (albeit, mildly amusing) and call it a day.

Earlier today, I was reading my Twitter feed and one of my Twitter friends said, “Car accident on the penis bridge, nice.

Well, naturally, I was intrigued…  I asked, “The…. Penis… Bridge?

She responded by telling me, “Um, yes 🙂 A ridiculous, unnecessary bridge built in Winnipeg for some ungodly price, disturbingly reminiscent of a huge penis.”  I asked where one might find pictures of this “Penis…. Bridge”, but she didn’t tell me so I had to go in search of it myself.*

You can imagine the trepidation with which I sit at my work computer and  searched for “penis bridge” so before I actually submitted my query, I amended it  to read “Winnipeg Penis Bridge.”

I came across a few pictures:



Both images credited to a flickr user named
Scerakor.

How about a night time image of said Penis… Bridge.


This photo is credited to a user on a website called Deviant Art, named
doperuca

And so, with that, I’ll bring this tremendously anti-climactic post to a close by saying, just what you’re probably thinking:

“THAT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE A PENIS AT ALL!”

*Updated:  Turns out my twitter friend did respond when I asked about pictures, but it was a Direct message and I didn’t notice it until well after writing and posting this.  I do believe in credit where credit is due, after all!

Remember Me?

It seems like it’s been forever since I have written a blog post, perhaps it seems  that way to you as well?  There’s a lot to talk about and I kind of doubt I’ll get to all of it today, but let’s see.

Things have been going fairly well at the gym.  I had my fourth session with my personal trainer last night.  Considering how I felt after the first session, I’m  tempted to say it’s getting “easier”, but I’m afraid he’ll hear me and make it harder.  The truth is I’ve made some decent progress as far as my stamina for the sessions goes.  I’ve managed to get through every successive session without  feeling like I was going to die.  Very winded, but not dying.  Every week, he  changes the routine up, which is probably a very good thing, keeps things  interesting.  The big thing last night was squats using a kettle bell and while  straddling a mat, and standing on steps.  My inner thighs are burning today, but  that’s the first time I’ve felt it there, so I guess it’s a good thing.

He will weigh me and take measurements, again, next week and I’ll be interested to see the outcome.  It may just be my wishful thinking, but when I look in the  mirror I feel like I see a difference.  Not to say that I’m not still fat and in need of help, but hey, a difference is a difference!  I have lost 17 pounds since I began  keeping track of my weight.  I’m not sure how that compares to starting at the gym.  I suspect it’s more along the lines of 8 or 9 pounds since then, but that’s  OK too, every little bit helps.  And as I constantly remind myself, I’m not there “to lose weight”, or “to look like an underwear model”.  I’m there to get healthier,  stronger and have more endurance.  If weight loss and model looks come with  that, so much the better, but that’s not the objective.  And let’s face it.  I’m going to lose weight in this endeavor…weather you’ll be seeing me in Calvin Klein ads  remains to be seen, but I wouldn’t hold my breath if I was you (there’s still the too  old, and bald head to consider.)

I’ve been somewhat impressed with this process, to be honest.  In the past I’ve gotten burned out really fast and had to force myself to go to the gym in the first place.  I didn’t like the gym, I didn’t like sweating and I didn’t want to do the work.  Not to mention it really got in the way of my TV and sitting around on my fat ass  time.  It’s amazing what can happen when you make up your mind to do something.  I go to the gym at least 3 times a week.  I need to go more, and I’m working on improving that, but I’m not going to discount the time I am spending there.  I even sort of enjoy it.  The sweating isn’t so bad since I go straight home  and take a shower.  My only other real complaint is how crowded the gym tends to be, but so far I haven’t had a lot of trouble getting in there and doing what I need to do.  I’ve only had to wait more than a minute or two for a treadmill once.

Speaking of the treadmill, you may recall that I’ve mentioned how I’m not a runner. I believe the requirements I mentioned were along the lines of rollerblades and a  jetpack, with a bear chasing me.  Running was not in the cards for me.  Well, after a couple of weeks of fast walking on a treadmill, sometimes as fast as four miles per hour, and not getting the kind of calorie burn I’d like to get… And looking at the calorie burn of the people running on either side of me, I realized, if I’m going to get this thing done, I’m going to have to pick up the pace.

I knew I had to start out slowly, and to be honest, I was a little scared, but  eventually, I resolved to do it.  After walking at 3.5 miles per hour for five minutes to warm up, I cranked the treadmill up to 5 miles per hour and ran, for five minutes.  It wasn’t so bad.  Toward the end, I was happy to slow it back down to a walk, but the truth is, I could’ve kept going a little longer.  I kept that pattern up for the full  hour, running a total of 30 minutes and walking a total of 30 minutes.  The last time I went to the gym and used the treadmill, I cranked the running up to 5.5 miles per hour.  Interestingly, (at least to me) I have found that running at 5 or 5.5 miles per hour is a little easier than walking at 4.0.  It’s definitely easier on my  feet.

And speaking of my feet, I bought a “friction stick” which I’m beginning to think is  just deodorant, and I rub it on my feet in the vulnerable spots before putting on my socks and running shoes and it seems to have made all the difference in the  world.  I haven’t gotten any blisters in a couple of weeks.

As you know, I abandoned you for a couple weeks to write; to really write.  Not that this blog isn’t valid and valuable writing, to me, but I participated in the 2010 National Novel Writing Month contest.  If you’re not already up to speed, the “contest” is to write at least 50,000 words between November 1 and November 30.  I validated my entry yesterday at 5:00 PM and at that time I had written 53,718  words, not including the first two chapters I wrote months ago.  And that was  writing only on week days.  Imagine what I could’ve accomplished if I had written  on the week ends as well!  I’m really proud of the work I’ve done, but still have so  far to go.  I’m going to keep up with it, but there’s no “deadline” now, so I can and will get back to blogging as well.  I know some of you were wearing a hole in the carpet, pacing and waiting for my next post.

I’m really excited at the prospect though.  I may be deluding myself but I think, once this manuscript is finished and fine tuned, it might actually be a viable  product for publication.  Maybe.  It is in my nature to doubt myself and my abilities and as I’m in the process of doing the writing, I’m inclined to feel like it’s utter  drivel, but when I read back over what I wrote the day before, I realize, “Hey!  This isn’t half bad!

Ten days ago, somewhat unexpectedly, I bought a new car.  Actually was a new car.  My first one.  I’d been thinking about it for awhile so it wasn’t truly an impulse buy.  I just didn’t think I was going to do it so quickly… or suddenly.  I finally owed less on my SUV than it was worth (not much less, but less) and there was actually a vehicle on the market that I thought I might like.

The Saturday before last, I went to Michelle’s house to do laundry as usual and she informed me that she needed to go to the Honda dealership to get the oil  changed on her 2007 Honda Civic and we could eat while we were out.  I went with her and it turned out that the on-board computer on her car was recommending a couple other maintenance items while she was at it.  It was going to take about  ninety minutes, so we walked to a near by restaurant and had breakfast.  We walked around a Dollar Tree store and then went back to the dealership.  The car wasn’t quite ready but almost.

While Michelle was dealing with that, I walked to the side lot to look at the Honda  Insight.  I had done research on-line already and knew that this car had most of  the features I wanted a car to have, it’s a hybrid which means better gas mileage, and it was very reasonably priced.  They also had signs hanging all around the  building talking about Holiday Sales Event.  I almost gave up, when no one talked  to me and we were actually about to walk back to Michelle’s car and leave when  someone asked us if we’d been helped.

I wasn’t sure I was going to pursue the purchase, assuming that my credit wasn’t  good enough to get me a payment I was happy with.  The initial paperwork that they drew up, entirely on our conversation and without pulling my credit showed 9.9% interest (1% lower than I was paying on my SUV) and a payment that was  too high for my liking.  I was about to walk away, when the sales guy asked me if I wanted to do a credit app so they could give me more definite figures.  I did, and as it turned out, my credit score was about 30 points higher than I thought and they offered me 7.49% interest.

Once I test drove the car it was pretty much a done deal.  My payments are a little bit higher than they were on my SUV but I will be saving a substantial amount of money on gas.  Ladies and Gentlemen, this is my new car!


OK.  There’s more to talk about, but some of it is just plane not sorted out yet so I guess I’ll call it quits right here for now.  You will be hearing from me again soon, I promise. 🙂