January I’ve been unemployed, and as such I’ve been watching WAY too much TV, reading pagan-y books, and sleeping off some ongoing depression issues. Not really a valid excuse, but there you go. However, this week stuff happened that was blog-worthy, and so here I am.
I’ve discovered I’m allergic to martial arts. Or vigorous exercise (sorry husband). Or possibly dojos.
Monday I took my first kickboxing class in oh, seven years or so. I suspect it’s called kickboxing because my ass was thoroughly kicked. Out of 60 minutes I believe I did about 35 minutes of motion, and of that only the first 15 were decent form (as proven by the scrapes on the WRONG SET OF KNUCKLES on my hands, because the more noodly my arms became the more I ended up punching the bag like a drunk 3 year old with depth perception issues).
In addition to looking like a fool, my pasty Scandahoovian heritage causes me to turn tomato red when I work out, and being overweight and out of shape means I easily overwork to the point of either feeling faint or puking. I accomplished all of the above on Monday. And about 40 minutes in I started sneezing and couldn’t fucking stop.
To whoever got my heavybag when I was done…sorry dude. I swear I didn’t snot on anything. I sneezed until Thursday. It was FABULOUS and I signed up for a 30 day trial program.
In other news, I received one of the COOLEST presents EVER from my friend Cait.
|See Celtic Knotwork Locket|
|SEE GERARD BUTLER AND A UNICORN PRE-LOADED INTO SAID CELTIC KNOTWORK LOCKET!!!|
That’s right…now when I’m having a crankypants (or as my friend calls it: Senora del Pantalones Irritado) day I can look down at a suave, tuxedoed Scotsman hanging around my neck.
Wait…something about that just sounds terribly inappropriate.