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Who’s yo’ cripple?
I’m yo’ cripple. Went to the Rose doc today on account of the foot nastiness, and he said, “We’re taking the weight off.” Whether it’s ligamental, a stress fracture, or a full fracture, taking the weight off is probably a sound idea. So I have crutches. (Whoa, buddy you can build up dangerous momentum with those things, and corners are eViL.) I have a referral to get an X-Ray, but my father—and, subsequently, I—is/am/are between medical insurances with the new job, so I have to find out how much that’ll run me out-of-pocket. Grr. No running, no walking, no biking. Just upper-body weight-lifting, if I’m so inclined. Can’t say I…
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Better than New Year’s Resolutions. Or is it?
I was looking back at my New Year’s resolutions of last year. I cannot currently run 10-minute miles for a half-hour (le sigh). If I study more or stress more about schoolwork, I’d probably need to be locked the hell up. So there’s one success. Post-undergrad thoughts are still up in the air, but I’m looking at some specific things; no internship yet, so there’s another non-complete. Doing and done the creative writing thing. So there’s two. I shed those thirty-plus pounds. Three. Johnny is dead. *shrug* Didn’t take up a martial art, but I have learned a hell of a lot about self-defense. I’ve been following Mr. T‘s progress…
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Back in the Dirty Dirty
Not much to say about the New Year’s party I attended. What I’d call the “good folks” from my mother’s family showed up, drank and danced, then all drove home. Grr. Couldn’t convince a single one of them to let me or Mother-dear play DD, the sons of bitches. Mother-dear and I knew it was going to be prime-time to get in some pictures, though. The T family, tipsy and relaxed and not fighting? Gotta have it, particularly since I haven’t seen these folks in at least seven years, and more like ten in some cases. Our camera (an old too-expensive Kodak from before the “megapixel” days; I think my…