10 minutes of swimming sounds really easy when you see it on your training schedule, especially when you’ve done 20 min jogging followed by 20 min biking twice the week before. But whoa boy, seriously. I haven’t done more than the 5 min of lap swimming I did last week since… since… I was about […]
I cut a bunch yesterday, so this is about another 2k. I fucking hate this book. Must mean it’s almost fucking done.
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Working out on weekends is new to me. At least, I haven’t done it since Alaska, when I had a lot of time and very long summer days. According to the training schedule, Mondays and Fridays are my off days, so today was 20 minutes on the bike and 20 minutes jogging. It’s easy enough
Cut about six pages of crap that wasn’t working, which pissed me off. Then dithered around writing bits and pieces of personal emails and rants. Those, at least, did not piss me off. Where’s my whiskey?
Loud music and whiskey. I don’t have any whiskey around, but oh yeah, we’ve got the loud music in spades. And I think I have two beers in the fridge.
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This is a smart, funny little show that does a lot of things I want to accomplish with Nyx and co. You’ve got the gun-toting former IRA member ex-girlfriend, the alcoholic FBI-informing best friend (played by Bruce Campbell. Seriously!), the chain smoking hypochondriac mother who’s really bad at being a mom, and the ex-spy who’s
… if McCain dies in office, things might get interesting. Less interesting than if Obama dies in office (hey, she’s Alaskan! When is *she* running for president? Crappy about the pro-life thing, tho). And is this really only the second time in 20 years that somebody’s run with a woman VP? Indeed it is. But
I actually wrote the last scene of the book tonight, which was weird. It’s so strange to write a book so completely out of order. I did the same with GW, but not to this extent. It’s funny to be so close that you can taste it, but you still have to write about 5k
Did 20 minutes of jogging followed by 20 minutes on the bike. I skipped the bike yesterday because my weight training session at work was brutal. Not physically brutal, oddly enough, but mentally brutal. That whole almost crying because I had to do three sets of pushup rows and squat jumps thing was pretty demoralizing.
Continuing my Twin Peaks-inspired Lynch kick, I watched Lost Highway last night. This is a Lynch I’m a much more comfortable with. The obscure cyclical story. Messages to yourself from the future. Dopplegangers. Body jumping. Choppy, nonsensical narratives. Creepy fellows. And, also, whores who get slaughtered. Ho-hum (I’m thinking that one of the reasons I