Poverty Is Not an Accident

Poverty Is Not an Accident
Nelson Mandela

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

I'm a giant Charlie horse!

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

Man, anybody who thinks ballerinas are whimps ain't payin' attention. Moan...

Now, mind you: I was CAREFUL not to do too much with the ballet exercises yesterday. I didn't do more than about five reps. of any stretch!

My whole body's going, "TWANG!" moan.

ugh.

I can do this.

I CAN do this!

I don't particularly WANT to this morning, but I can do this.

Please, everybody: if you're considering committing to an intimate relationship, please wait at least a year. Give me a chance to get my stuff together, before you commit, ok? Because, a year from now, y'all be sayin', "DAYUM!" when I walk by, and you will be so sorry...

Ouch!

I've GOT my stuff together; I just can't remember where I PUT it.

I feel muscles in my back and shoulders that are SO MAD at me, for making them work!

Too bad, guys; get over it! Y'all goin' to have to work on field recordings; I need you strong and ready!

If I have to hold a mic over my head, while standing perfectly still, for a solid hour, I want to look like the Statue of Liberty, and not move a muscle or make creeking sounds into the mic!

If I have to push my scooter home five miles, by gawd, I'm going to be strong enough to do it, AND be able to walk to ANOTHER sound source, the next day!

There's a stair case on the apartment bldg. next door. I can ALMOST see it from my bed.

I should walk up and down those stairs, once a day, huh?

Mumble.

Because my connective tissues & joints hurt me so badly, I've let my muscle mass diminish, trying not to move too much.

If I can build up the muscles, THEY can support my skeleton, and take pressure off the joints & connective tissues.

Basically, trying to protect myself from pain, I've made things worse, I think.

Thank gawd for this bottle of a thousand asprin!

I'd KILL for a bath tub!

And I SO need a geisha boy!

Not for sex; I've come to the realization, after 4 days of exercising, that sex would kill me right now! Good sex, anyway; and bad sex isn't sex.

Nope, I just need an obedient and doting servant, to walk on my back, serve me tea, and entertain me.

Right.

I'd be bored silly in a week.

Well, I'm really hungry, so I'm outtie!

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