Dec 30. 2008
My computer is dead. Long live my computer! What happened? I dropped it. I actually dropped it 3 times,
once about 2 Years ago, once about a year ago, and once today. Third time's the charm. I have an appointment with Apple- the geniuses at the Apple Store-on Friday to recover the data from the hard drive. Hopefully.
My first thought was, of course, What's the Karmic retribution at work here? My second thought was some thing like, oh well. True the computer was just getting all nice & broken in. The keyboard was nicely worn and the markings had come Off the Keys that I use most often. But equally true was the fact that the computer was More of a tool and a lifeline than a friend. I never gave it a name. I guarded it with my life.
NariparsRcsohtionuri [Supposed to read: "New Year’s Resolutions" but, honestly, I like "NariparsRcsohtionuri" better.]
I’ve been hitting the gym recently-hitting it hard I mean. I am determined to get back into shape in the new Year. Determined in away that I haven't been in a couple of Years at least. One Of the things that's
The demons.
This time around, it's a kind of restless, hellish jealousy. It's the lure of internal Validation, twisted. Twisted around. I want to feel sharp and dangerous again. I want to feel ready for anything again.
It's time,too, to disembark. Time to wake up. Time to refocus. time. Time. Time.
Dec31, 2008
I don't get nostalgic much at New Year’s. I don’t feel the need to go our and manufacture a good timeout of whole cloth. I learned that by living Past loneliness on big days and finding myself enjoying myself on the Other Side.)
Later: we just got back from lunch With Chris & Lu at Saigon. Chris treated. (Thanks, Chris!) We chatted about the gym its denizens, conrad (aka gay spiderman) in particular. He apparently annoyed luann by loading up some machines with weights & then just walking away from them.
Reading: Last night, sans computer, I started reading The Suicide Index by Joan Wickersham. It is…It's-- 'She's as a friend once said of another friend's driving: “She’s slow but aggressive.” That's kind of how I feel about Wickersham's writing. Normally, I consider aggressive women writers a treat- but slow and aggressive drivers? No. Sadly, no. That is Wickersham: Sadly, no. But I'll finish it because, well, Sans computer. I am sans Computer.
In other reading, I stole a copy Of Outside magazine from the gym last night. It's the January 2009 issue with Kelly Slater on the cover. (Talk about your bald hottie.) Anyway. I took it because there was a snippet of an article about training And I mistakenly thought that there would be lots and lots of fine training tips for, you know, motivational purposes. Turns out its just some Stupid testosterone-driven, boys-and their – dumb-expensive-hobbies, machismo-laden rag. Like the boys’ version of Cosmo magazine.
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