I’ve spent five minutes staring at the typing field here trying to figure out how to start my post. If you’ve seen the MST3k episode with “Time Chasers”, you can go ahead and compare what’s going on inside my head right now with “That plane looks like it can’t think of anything to say. Duh…..uh…um….dum….ahh.”
I think I’m getting sick, actually. I’m unusually lazy today. My hair is still wrapped in a towel to dry. My shower, by the way and once again, was inadvertently interrupted by mom, who removed the face wash from my bathroom to put in her own. I stopped the water and wore one of the towels like a cape down the hallway to go get it. Since no one was home, I figured I could be as indecent as I wanted. Stepping out of the bathroom, I cursed in a Lewis Black fashion (to quote Tony: “Lewis Black? That man is one joke away from a heart attack.”) at the brisk room temperature, since I was still dripping wet. That is not something I would typically do, but face wash is something I need. I looked in the mirror this morning and wanted to just paper bag myself. I think that would’ve been an issue on campus, though.
I’m typing this post with three of my fingers, since the other seven are currently bandaged, all because of blisters. Now, finger pain is up there with ear pain and mouth pain on my list of annoying pains. Some are from tying my skates yesterday (I actually think I toned my arms a bit doing that) and some are from kung fu. Grandmaster Dee is having another escrima seminar, so we spent some time last night beating things with sticks. It sounds primitive, but it’s a method that works (although I don’t personally care to practice it outside of class).
My hands take quite a beating and I can’t really do much to protect them, and I end up using all the hot water in the shower because I’m spending ten extra minutes trying to invent a way to wash my hair without getting soap inside the cuts. I have some fingerless biking gloves I could probably use while tying my ice skates. I can’t really wear gloves during kung fu. That would be about as cool as John wearing elbow pads when he juggled. Or a helmet when he brushed his teeth. Besides, I can just hear Matt saying it’s my own fault for not doing enough iron palm hoo-ha. I’d follow up with “I need iron SKIN, Matt, iron SKIN.” and then he would remind me that I’m not as funny as I like to think I am.
Speaking of John though, how’s the poi? It’s nearly chain whip time.
