Sploosh

June 13, 2010 · 2 comments

Before you ask, yes:  I’m blogging from the office.  On a Sunday.  As I’m sure I’ve mentioned several times in the last couple of weeks, work is busy as sh*t and my clients are in Taiwan, which means that their Monday morning starts on my Sunday night.  By stopping by the office for a couple/few hours on Sunday afternoon/evening, I’m able to stay ahead of them and provide good client service.  It’s better than blowing sailors down by the docks or truckers in truck stop toilets. 

This weekend has been pretty fly.  I’ve got this kind of relaxed bubble of serenity all around me and I feel like the yogis say:  that I’m a being of light.  I don’t really go in too much for all the ‘eternal soul’ thing, but I feel right now as though my skin is just a layer of the overall bundle of energy that is me – and it’s currently not the outside layer.

Lots of exercise this weekend.  I left work on Friday around 3:30, got a haircut and stopped by my sister’s office to chill with her for a bit.  Then I went home and ran a couple of miles, in the hopes that it would get rid of some of the knots of stress that were pervading my very being.  I swear, I could hear the stress in my voice even when I wasn’t at work or talking about anything even remotely work-related.  Not stressed like anxiety-stressed, just that kind of wound tight intensity – you know, like in the movies where the guy is all yelling in a normal conversation?  The tone of my voice was off, and everything was black and white:  a decision to be made.  Situation:  you’re sad about something.  Decision:  get over it.  Situation:  you have a bunch of errands to do.  Decision:  why are you telling me about them?  Get moving.

Please note the ‘you’s in those last couple of sentences, dear reader – they indicate that my intensity was spilling out beyond my own head, which I didn’t like very much and which is why I went for a run on Friday afternoon. 

I felt pretty good afterward.  I don’t think the knots in my shoulders will ever go away (matter of fact, I’m kind of afraid my arms will fall off if they do), but at least some of the plaque got cleared out of my capillaries – especially the ones in my brain.

I took care of my regular Friday-evening things and had just about finished eating my dinner around 11:30 when Scott texted me “want to go hiking?”  I thought about my response for a moment, when the next text came through:  “I mean now.”  And I was like “I know what you mean.  I’m thinking.” 

So Scott and I left around midnight to head up to the Catskills and climb the mountains we had on the docket for Saturday morning.  We hit the trail around 2:30, climbed Eagle and Balsam mountains, and were back in the car around 7:30.  The first couple of miles were straight up hill and I gotta tell you, dear reader, I ate that motherfucker up.  I’m not saying I could necessarily have run up the mountain, but damn, was I flying.  We didn’t really get a feel for how long and steep the hill was until the way back down.

Friday night was a new moon, so it was inky-black dark when we turned our headlamps off (which we did a couple of times to enjoy the scenery).  I’m talking like squid ink – it got in our eyes and everything. 

Saturday morning I took a shower and was in bed by 10AM, to wake up around 6 or 7 and swing on by my brother’s place to take his dog for a walk (he was in the Catskills for a soccer tournament).  Then I showered again (yes, I do that a lot in the summer), and headed off to my friend Tara’s birthday party at Mavi Lounge in Fairfield, where I danced the night away with some damn-fine looking women.  Even gave one of them my card (*buffs nails on lapel*) – she was wicked interesting and I hope she calls.  I’d like to have a conversation that doesn’t involve yelling directly into one anothers’ ears.  Huh.  I wonder if I got the apostrophe right on that one.  Seriously, next time I got to a club I’m bringing tin cans and string.

The DJ was meh, but there were beats to be found in most of what he was playing.  I sweat my skinny white ass off dancing and loved every minute of it. 

Today I woke up around 10:30AM – which is pretty shocking and unlike me on a true day off – and rolled on back to John’s apartment to take Clyde’s fat white pit bull ass for a long walk.  And would you look at that?  It’s 5PM and now I have to go to my parents’ house to let their dogs out and feed them.

As much as I’d love to complain about how they’re not my dogs and it’s cutting into my me-time weekend hours, I love the shit out of those fucking animals, and it’s my fault everybody has dogs in the first place.  [Note to self:  blog about why I’m too selfish to have a dog at this point in my life.]  Clyde, Diesel and Radar were all DC rescues by yours truly from back in the day.  Riggs is Katie’s crackhead dog from Jamaica (Queens) – I take no responsibility for that one.

So off I go.  (Theoretical) tutoring appointment at 9:30 this evening, and I would still like to do some apartment cleaning and bake a cake before that.

Peace out, yo.

http://www.quixoticjedi.com/wp-content/plugins/sociofluid/images/digg_32.png http://www.quixoticjedi.com/wp-content/plugins/sociofluid/images/reddit_32.png http://www.quixoticjedi.com/wp-content/plugins/sociofluid/images/dzone_32.png http://www.quixoticjedi.com/wp-content/plugins/sociofluid/images/stumbleupon_32.png http://www.quixoticjedi.com/wp-content/plugins/sociofluid/images/delicious_32.png http://www.quixoticjedi.com/wp-content/plugins/sociofluid/images/blogmarks_32.png http://www.quixoticjedi.com/wp-content/plugins/sociofluid/images/newsvine_32.png http://www.quixoticjedi.com/wp-content/plugins/sociofluid/images/technorati_32.png http://www.quixoticjedi.com/wp-content/plugins/sociofluid/images/google_32.png http://www.quixoticjedi.com/wp-content/plugins/sociofluid/images/myspace_32.png http://www.quixoticjedi.com/wp-content/plugins/sociofluid/images/facebook_32.png http://www.quixoticjedi.com/wp-content/plugins/sociofluid/images/yahoobuzz_32.png http://www.quixoticjedi.com/wp-content/plugins/sociofluid/images/twitter_32.png

{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

Jennifer June 14, 2010 at 10:12

You didn’t! You gave her your number and you hope she calls?
Ted!!!! You take her outside for a cigarette and exchange numbers if the convo is good. :)
Glad you had a good time dancing!

Reply

niceguyted June 14, 2010 at 16:16

Je-zus! Thanks for the Monday morning quarterbacking, Jen. ;-)

I don’t know what the protocol is anymore – I thought current practice was for the dude to give the kitten his phone number so that she’s under less/no pressure. Admittedly, that goes against my gut, but I’m not always right, you know? We’ll see what happens – if she calls, that means I must be relatively interesting; if she doesn’t, well . . . maybe it’ll be good for my ego.

[As an aside, if I get much more of the this ‘good for my ego’ crap, I’m joining a convent.]

Reply

Leave a Comment

Previous post:

Next post: