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I woke up hacking my lungs out this morning. This must be what it's like to be a hardcore chain smoker. The phlegm felt like a solid barrier preventing my lungs from doing their work. After labourious hoarking and wheezing that sounded as lovely as carbonated meat, I finally kickstarted my lungs. Now they feel fine again. Stupid asthma.
And to top it off, my eyes were in overproduction mode. Normally, when I wake up in the morning, I have a small amount of gunk in the corners of my eyes. This morning, however, the rims were coated with a thick sheen o whitish eye snot. Tears were all over my cheeks and the sides of my nose. And the bloodshottedness of it all made me look like a major druggie.
f00 woke up with the same eye problem. He blames the cut lily adorning my kitchen table, but I think it's really the flies. I think there's only one fly left in the apartment, but I recall waking up in the middle of the night because he was tapdancing on my eyelashes. My guess is that the white crap on my eyes was the result of fly bukkake. Gag!
I forgot today is a holiday. I was going to run all sorts of errands, but there's no need of it, now. Instead, I'm going to go off to the gym for a workout, and see if I can convince f00 to hook the broken VCR back up to the old Amiga monitor. It only kinda sorta works, but I really want to practice with my dance tapes. I need to work on some technique of my own.
Saturday's dance class was interesting. Along with the usual warmups, isolation work, and travelling steps, I introduced everyone to zilling. We started off with a baladi rhythm. Everyone seemed to be having a total blast, and amidst the studious glares of concentration erupted smiles, like a rainbow emerging from black clouds. I love to see the moment when something clicks (comprehension or zills. Heh).
Last night, I watched The Big Blue. Way back in 1989, I saw this movie. I absolutely loved it, and it became one of my favourite movies of all time. Well, watching it last night showed me how much my taste has changed. Although I still really enjoyed the diving parts and the gorgeous cinematography, I loathed any scene containing Rosanna Arquette. She plays a top-40, baby-mad, ditzy, clumsy, irritating normal. Her character is shrill and the pinnacle of mediocrity, if that makes any kind of sense. I hated her character. Hate! And yet, it would seem the viewer is supposed to empathise with her. I kept wishing for the divers to drag her down with them, well past the 300-foot mark and leave her there. It would have made for a much more enjoyable movie.
Yesterday's bike ride was mostly uneventful, but I did get to experience some gorgeous things. I watched a duck and a trove of ducklings following close behind her in the Saint John River. Robins sang all around me, and I stopped pedaling every now and then to pick juicy raspberries and jam them into my mouth. I watched a very fat chipmunk scamper on some rocks, freeze, and then dive into a hole. Why did it do this? Because an osprey burst labouriously from the trees, weighed down by the corpse of a large squirrel. It flapped away, and I watched in awe.
And to top it off, my eyes were in overproduction mode. Normally, when I wake up in the morning, I have a small amount of gunk in the corners of my eyes. This morning, however, the rims were coated with a thick sheen o whitish eye snot. Tears were all over my cheeks and the sides of my nose. And the bloodshottedness of it all made me look like a major druggie.
f00 woke up with the same eye problem. He blames the cut lily adorning my kitchen table, but I think it's really the flies. I think there's only one fly left in the apartment, but I recall waking up in the middle of the night because he was tapdancing on my eyelashes. My guess is that the white crap on my eyes was the result of fly bukkake. Gag!
I forgot today is a holiday. I was going to run all sorts of errands, but there's no need of it, now. Instead, I'm going to go off to the gym for a workout, and see if I can convince f00 to hook the broken VCR back up to the old Amiga monitor. It only kinda sorta works, but I really want to practice with my dance tapes. I need to work on some technique of my own.
Saturday's dance class was interesting. Along with the usual warmups, isolation work, and travelling steps, I introduced everyone to zilling. We started off with a baladi rhythm. Everyone seemed to be having a total blast, and amidst the studious glares of concentration erupted smiles, like a rainbow emerging from black clouds. I love to see the moment when something clicks (comprehension or zills. Heh).
Last night, I watched The Big Blue. Way back in 1989, I saw this movie. I absolutely loved it, and it became one of my favourite movies of all time. Well, watching it last night showed me how much my taste has changed. Although I still really enjoyed the diving parts and the gorgeous cinematography, I loathed any scene containing Rosanna Arquette. She plays a top-40, baby-mad, ditzy, clumsy, irritating normal. Her character is shrill and the pinnacle of mediocrity, if that makes any kind of sense. I hated her character. Hate! And yet, it would seem the viewer is supposed to empathise with her. I kept wishing for the divers to drag her down with them, well past the 300-foot mark and leave her there. It would have made for a much more enjoyable movie.
Yesterday's bike ride was mostly uneventful, but I did get to experience some gorgeous things. I watched a duck and a trove of ducklings following close behind her in the Saint John River. Robins sang all around me, and I stopped pedaling every now and then to pick juicy raspberries and jam them into my mouth. I watched a very fat chipmunk scamper on some rocks, freeze, and then dive into a hole. Why did it do this? Because an osprey burst labouriously from the trees, weighed down by the corpse of a large squirrel. It flapped away, and I watched in awe.
