***Wednesday’s Words; Thursday Tales***

Words
Due to circumstances partially beyond my control, I couldn’t make it to work on Wednesday. So, like any good opportunist, I used the forced time to write. And write. And write. That naturally led me to continue writing Thursday night after a session at the gym. While I welcomed the return of my Muse, she’s been reluctant to bestow her gifts. I’ve had a dickens of a time generating content for the outline of my latest project. I know the opening scene, a few kewl “candybar” moments, and the ending, but the middle’s been a struggle which is quite unusual for me.

I know a lot of my difficulty stems from the story itself. It’s a love story set in the modern era, quite different from my usual fantasies. But I know the story’s interesting and I plan to keep plugging away at it.


Weights
When I told R. yesterday I was hittin’ the gym (cardio) on Thursday, the reaction was: “again?”

I worked out Monday for 2 ½ hours; Tuesday for two, and took a break on Wednesday. Such a schedule is not unusual: I used to hit the gym religiously for a couple of hours 5-6 days a week. So the hour’s worth of cardio yesterday was nothing (and it wasn’t that difficult of a class, either.)

Whatever
Can the loss of jeans make one superficial?

(Image found on the Internet and all rights belong to its owners.)

Years ago, after R. and I moved in together down in Huntington Beach, California, I promised myself to update my wardrobe. At the time, all I wore regularly were blue jeans, jean shorts, T-shirts, sneaks, and non-button down shirts. I wanted to start wearing wool pants, blended button down, and shoes that cost more than my PDAs (fully featured.) I never did, though.

Last year I took a temp assignment whose dress code, on an informal day, was no ties for the men and comfortable shoes for the women. (I still don’t understand why women wear those horrible heels.) I bought new clothes for this assignment while simultaneously tossing out my old informal clothing. I justified the latter since they were old (we're talking nearly a decade here) and, more importantly, would not fit any more without my significantly tightening the belts. (I had dropped from a size 38 to a size 35 a few years ago.)

The assignment came and went and now I’m a perm for the third time in my post-college years. And I can wear jeans on informal day which is once a week. One prob: no more blue jeans.

And now I don’t know if I want to buy a new pair. For some reasons, wearing jeans represents, to me, another person and his life, not mine. What concerns me is that this attitude is extending beyond just clothing. Do I really want to buy a regular car like a Ford or Honda? Do I really want to shop for my ties over at Mervyns? Buy shoes from Payless? Generic toilet paper?

R. said earlier in our relationship that once you get used to a certain lifestyle, it’s hard to go back to a previous one. I poo-pooped those words but now I’m not to sure.

Huh. Maybe I should look for some jeans this weekend. Where’s my Nordstroms card…?*


*If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m being a bit silly with this particular post. I would buy a Ford or Honda as long as the formal was a Mustang or a Mercury, and the latter was an Acura. And Nordstroms is way too expensive and the clothing too generic: the men’s store at Robinsons-May has a better selection of silk ties anyway.

Short and sweet

Words
Very little writing since Monday. Part of the reason is that I'm stuck at a certain scene. I'm debating if I want to go ahead and start the "zero" draft or continue working on the outline.

Weights
I'm making up for lost time here. Did two and a half hours of workout Monday: half-hour of cardio, followed by an hour of weight training, then followed by forty-five minutes of more cardio. Mercifully, I had an hour brake between the weight-training and the second cardio class.

Tuesday I did cardio followed by weight-training. My muscles hadn't fully recovered from the Monday session (heck, it hadn't recovered from last week's session!) but I'm definitely getting thicker: arms, legs, and chest. And I love the high I get from the workouts.

Whatever
The above stuff's enough at the moment.

Words
Though I brought plenty of material to work on while in Las Vegas (see below), I couldn’t write, being in that state of restless sleep much of the evenings. However, two sessions at the Forward Motion Think Tank over the past couple of weeks was extremely helpful.

Weights
Taking care of a one year old all day while your mother (his grandmother) shops even longer should be considered aerobic exercise.

Whatever
My sister and I drove up Friday night to Las Vegas. R., unfortunately, was on-call and my sibling’s spouse and child had other engagements. This was my first experience in a van for such a trip and I was amazed how spacious it felt. I’m giving SUVs serious reconsideration when I’m ready to buy my new (or used) car in a couple of years.

Saturday we (meaning myself, my sister and her child, and my mother) spent much of the afternoon shopping. We hit two different malls that where my sister and mom checked out lots of different stores while I pushed my sleeping nephew (thankfully) around in his stroller. By the by, his resemblance to me is uncanny: I found a picture of myself during my first birthday and showed them to my sister who confirmed it. I think she’s also secretly hoping he inherited my height as well.

Because of my interest in cars, I immediately noted the difference between the vehicles in Las Vegas and Orange County. I saw few imports but many, many domestic vehicles. As you can imagine, there were many Buicks but I was surprised by the number of Pontiac vehicles. Out here in the O.C., for example, I’ve only seen 4-5 G6s since December. I saw that number in one day out in Las Vegas.

Sunday we celebrated Mother’s Day by, of course, eating with my cousin and her family. Afterwards we returned to California.

I enjoyed my time with my sibling and nephew while driving two and fro. Because we chatted the entire time, the trip didn’t feel long. We discussed our spouses, our future, plans, and our frustrations. I learned a lot of new facts about my sister, enough to reevaluate her. Yes, she’s my younger sister but she’s an adult, a wife, and a mother all rolled into one. And I definitely enjoyed my time with my nephew. He’s a beautiful baby though, as typical, quite messy.

(Image found on the Internet and all rights belong to its owner.)