Category: Angst

August 24, 2005 /

I just said goodbye to Ian. He’s going to work for a month in Utah before heading on to Los Angeles. He beat me to Louisville, and now he’s going to beat me to California. He’s been taller than me for as long as I can remember.

Ian’s got a new used truck and everything he owns is in its bed. He’s let his hair get too long because he thinks it’s rock ‘n’ roll. Last night was the biggest Tuesday Night Basketball I think we’ve ever had–everyone showed for a sendoff to its lynchpin. We ordered so much food and Lisa made a cake. We played games.

Sometimes I wonder how much I damaged Ian, growing up, by expecting him to be my peer and treating him like an inferior. Then I realize I’m assigning myself too much influence. Ian’s his own man, smart and ethical and a past master of all the social skills with which I still grapple; he didn’t need me to teach him about jokes or girls or writing code.

Ian will say his Saint Michaels. He’ll be fine.

Conflict.

August 23, 2005 /

I hate my crutches like magnetic north hates… other magnetic north. They are a pain and an endless-conversation curse, and I can’t walk ten feet without sweating. I have raw places on my sides from where they rub through three layers of cloth. They’re borrowed from Maria’s mom, so I will return them eventually with a smile and a thank-you; otherwise I’d snap them, burn them, sow their fields with salt yea look ye mighty &c.

But I’ve been using them for less than two weeks and I’ve visibly lost weight and gained muscle mass. Upper-body muscle mass, as much as I’ve had in my entire life.

My uncle Jerome recommended staying on the things for four weeks, absolute minimum two weeks. I really want to get rid of them come Wednesday night. But the huge blood-pool bruise on the side of my foot isn’t gone yet, and I don’t want to screw this up and compound my tendonitis, and I like weighing less and having triceps.

The two things I’m really worried about are my hands, which never stop hurting even after Epsom-salt soaks and hours of rest. The pain when I first pick up the crutches is worse every morning. Working at a keyboard every day occasionally gives me carpal-tunnely twinges; those have become more frequent since I started using the crutches. The fear is obvious.

I know I won’t work out after I start walking normally again. I don’t want my ankle to heal badly. I hate being slow and painful and not being able to carry things. I don’t want carpal tunnel.

Conflict.

July 26, 2005 /

Maria got her board scores back yesterday. She did better than she had hoped, which is better than most of the country! Maria is awesome!

July 7, 2005 /

NOT COOL. My mom is supposed to leave for London tomorrow. That is quite enough with the bombing.

Only two fatalities so far, but as of this morning there were still people trapped underground.

Update 1046 hrs: Thirty-three.

Update 1329 hrs: Thirty-seven.

June 30, 2005 /

Should I even talk about Six Feet Under? It’s one of those things where I’ve known forever that it would be great, and everybody in the world got into it and said it was great, and then two years later I finally watch it and guess what! There is no indie cred in late adoption.

Six Feet Under is incredible.