December 20th, 2007


That Last Post Feels Incomplete, But I'm Moving On Regardless

Coming to you live from the soundproof studio in Hammerville, Tacoma, please give a warm welcome to Steven A. Taylor!

I've found my cache of old shirts I didn't bring to New York because they no longer fit my robust frame; I've found I now fit comfortably into a little over half. I can wear my Pink Floyd Baseball Tee again!

So, you know how in the NBA, the New York Knickerbockers are still paying a living wage to former-coach Larry Brown even though he was fired for gross incompetency? That's like me having to pay a monthly charge for a gym until May that I'm never going to use again. Yes, that's correct, it's the Theo Ratliff of gyms, only it's impossible for me to trade it for draft picks!

As a result, I've committed myself to NOT joining a new gym until then. I refuse to pay two fees! What I'm trying to say is that I ran tonight for the first time since last Friday; I have no idea if I annihilated the 36-minute mile or not, but it felt good to get some four miles in. Of course, it felt BAD that I did so in 36 degree heat.

Question: am I getting a decent workout when I run four miles but don't start breaking a sweat until I'm already 1.5 miles in? Indeed, the sweat from my brow was easily mopped up by a fractional portion of my sleeve, and I was wearing a t-shirt underneath a sweatshirt, with shorts.

This came after Thanksgiving at the Taylor household. My dad and I gave thanks over a turkey that slid off the bone (literally; the turkey leg WAS just a bone when it was pulled off), yams, stuffing, frozen corn, fruit salad, cranberries, Pilsbury croissants, olives, and punkin pie with Cool Whip (not Miracle Whip). I don't know how I did it, my stomach was harboring a termed pregnancy.

That came after I woke up at 2pm today because I was up until 4am (on 2 hours sleep) partying with my brother, his two friends, and The Hammer. Fight Club drinking game (drink for every new fight, for every new scene with a voice-over, for every time Marla smokes a cigarette, for every time someone draws blood, and whenever anyone said Fight Club), followed by the They Live drinking game (drink for every time you see a new alien), followed by a shit-ton of You Tube music videos.

I have my laptop set up in the computer room and my big computer (now virus and Internet free) set up in the spare room which is now mine. It's good to be home. Indeed, even the weather isn't that oppressive compared to the like temperature in New York right now. 36 degrees just FEELS colder on the East Coast, don't ask me why.

And, I suppose I'll be OK with the outside running. I mean, it's not like there's too much danger of there being many single-digit temp days here, unlike in New York where you're threatened with two solid months of said freezing torture.

I feel good. Moron this as it develops.
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