sprung forward

Just now I’ve noticed that all the clocks in the house are wrong except this one on my laptop. (And perhaps the ones on the other computers, but I haven’t checked those.) It sure doesn’t feel like six am, but I guess it is now!

Today I went to my first Tai Chi class about nine years. It’s really pretty hard to believe it was that long ago, but I looked it up, and the class I took at the U was in winter ’95. I was a senior in HS, and I needed gym credits to graduate from HS. (I also needed US History, which is why I never actually graduated… sure, I registered, but it was the first “real” college class I’d ever taken, and fuck if there wasn’t a lot of memorizing useless dates and shit.)

Anyway, the class was great. I’m still recovering from my cold, or it would have probably been better. Durring the meditation part, and in some of the stretches, I found I couldn’t quite follow all the objectives, because it was extremely hard to breathe exclusively out of my nose all the time. I am actually really looking forward to the meditation portion as much as I am learning and doing the form itself.

Tonight a bunch of the guys came over and we played Settlers of Catan again… it was really slow going, and I kinda feel like I need to take an “official” break from that game. It’s rappidly losing its appeal for me.

Nate and I decided to put a movie in at about 1:30, when everybody else left, fully expecting to fall asleep to it, but for some reason I’m still up. I even got in bed about an hour ago, and I’ve been writing ever sense. I started by just jotting some crap down mindblurb style, and then wrote a poem for every cheesy line I’d written. Click below for the results:

Continue reading “sprung forward”

magnetic pursestrings

Tonight I left the safety and relative sanity of my house after lounging in bed and on the couch all day, where I had been sick to the very root of my bones. (Still am, frankly, which is why I’m home now, and not at the International Film Festival post-gala party, with laura, and her date.)

I was going a little stir crazy, I think, but after a trip to two different targets, (and waiting in the car outside of a third, where nate tried and failed a third time to find “All of Me” on DVD for $6.99), I think I was starting to stretch the limit of my health when we found ourselves wandering through the vast corridors of the HarMar Barnes and Noble. Man, that place is a monster. It sucks you in.

And about twenty or thirty minutes into it, I was walking around, head throbbing, and I realized I was having trouble focusing on things more than ten feet away. I could do it, but it just took more effort, and kinda hurt. I was just starting to get over my enjoyment of this interesting and different experience (and drifting into the realm of a calm panic) when I found Nate and Jason again.

Anyway, the result, (and whole point) of this anecdote was that shortly thereafter I picked up my first ever box of magnetic poetry while waiting in the checkout line. (Yes, the two other editions on the fridge are Nate’s–or maybe laura’s, but I don’t think either one of them is an “official” megnetic poetry brand set.) Of course it was the erotic edition. I wrote this poem fragment while sitting on our cool (but dirty) kitchen floor breaking the words apart:

private vagina breath
murmur languid screams
yes she ate her fill

Also present on our fridge was a heretofore not broken apart square set of magnetic words from the U’s Environmental Health and Safety Ergonomic Resources department. I mixed both sets for this next poem (which I am proud of, at least presently, and rather stupid/smugly.) The ERGO words are in bold:


naked carpal tunnel

rub fingers and adjustable penis
strain hot my perfect pleasure
worship want please a little pain
mount CPU dirty mouse hand
swollen desk ache
keyboard orgasm

instant giggling

Apparently I’m not manly enough when I’m chatting. Laura pointed out the other day (while looking over my shoulder at an ICQ conversation) that I say “hehe” all the time, like a little schoolgirl. Sometimes I’ll interject with a somewhat manly “heh.” But that’s really just for variety; at heart I’m an IM wimp.