sublingua

(Be present.)

(It's past.)

(Go there now.)

Quite A Day

After I dropped Max off at work this morning, I went off to Barnes & Noble for an MCAT study guide. (I'm determined to take the MCAT in April of 2005). I browsed around the bookstore for a while, finding the study guide, then a new edition of the Navy Seal guide that I use to workout. Sadly, it was much less intense than my version, but there were a great number of ab exercises that I want to try. (I didn't buy the book, since I know that eventually everything makes it online in someone's website, so a Google search should net me what I want.)

I stopped at the thrift store on the way home from the bookstore just to look at the clothes. (I'm still not done shrinking, so I don't like to buy new clothes that I wear once before they get too big.) I wanted to pick up a few casual summer skirts since I don't wear shorts. (And I don't wear shorts for the same reason that I think people who wear socks with sandals--and men who wear sandals with or without socks--should be shot.) As I was looking at the skirt selection in a size 6, I happened to find a jean skirt that is exactly everything I've ever wanted in a jean skirt: it was just this side of too short, with a slit up the center and a frayed hem. I looked at the label, which informed me that it was Armani Exchange, $1.99, and a--you guessed it--size four. I held it up to my hips and thought, I can do this. So I took it into the dressing room and tried it on. And damn, I look pretty fucking hot in my new Armani Exchange size four jean skirt.

I was so happy that I was lightheaded--or, no, wait, it was just that I hadn't had any lunch. So I went home and fixed a vegetable lentil stew and a salad, ate it while I read from Judith Hamilton's The Book of Ruth. Then I headed down to the Starbucks near Max's office to study a bit and have a giant iced Americano.

But Wouldn't It Take Some Sushi To Make It A Perfect Afternoon?

Why, yes, yes it would. That said, I will inform you that I'm just polishing off the last of some take-out sushi. There are fresh blueberries for dessert and some Perrier to wash it all down.

And then there's a visit to the gym to work it all off.

The Gym?!

I have taken the last two days off from the gym because I pulled a muscle in my calf and needed a bit of a rest. I pulled a muscle because I'm an idiot at the gym: I did that "What's it if we add five more pounds?" thing, that thing of putting 25 lbs on the bar, thinking, 25 lbs? Fuck that. I'm a monster. So I added 25 more. Fifty pounds still didn't seem that heavy, so I added 10 more. Okay, sixty pounds. Doable for single calf raises, right? Here's where the "I'm a complete idiot" part comes in: It was sixty pounds PER SIDE of the bar, plus the 30-40 lb. bar, plus my own body weight. We can do the math together if you want, but if you don't want, I'll just tell you that it all adds up to 310-320 lbs. And I did four sets of 12-20 reps. And, funnily enough, I only hurt my right calf because I pushed it a bit too hard when it stubbornly refused to fail on me. (Yes, I lift to failure each set.)