Monthly Archives: November 2010

Caught me yellow-handed!

Yesterday was the last day of Dal kickboxing (though I’m still going to the club all through December).  We had a little graduation thing for everyone getting new handwrappers, and I got my yellows!   Yay!  Yellow is, like, the first colour you can get that actually means anything, but still, I’m happy.

We did these crazy ab workouts that I won’t bother describing, but trust me, I am in pain today.  It takes a lot to make abs hurt, too, so this is pretty exciting/excruciating.

We’re practically in the last week of classes!  Whoo!  The homework is bearing down on me like some kind of… bear… riding a shark… strapped to a train… on a comet.  And the comet is made out of nuclear disasters.  Actually, I’m probably fine, and gearing up for all the Christmas parties that are happening soon.  (And desperately finishing homework.)

Anyway, must get back to that bear-shark-train-comet-nuclear-disaster that is my homework.  After my last post, I wanted to change the subtitle of this blog to Pixilated Interrobang, because their my two favourite words and they sum me up pretty well (a slightly drunk, excited question).  But now I think bear-shark-train-comet-nuclear-disaster sounds pretty appealing.  Why must everything thought I think be pure, solid gold?  Such a fardels I labor under!  What?  Oh yeah, homework.  Also, I’m at actual work.  Away I go!

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My Bag

Things I found in my bag today in class:

  • chili
  • a towel
  • emergency rain poncho
  • multi-tool
  • earplugs
  • sushi take-out menu
  • sweat band
  • nail-clippers
  • spoon

What I was actually looking for:

  • pencil

I… I didn’t have a pencil.  I’ve actually seriously lightened my bag-load since the summer.  I took out the sewing kit and emergency overnight supplies.  What will I do in case of zombies?

Who wants a word of the day?  Pixilated!  You think you know the word, but maybe you don’t?  It means, like, bewildered, amusingly whimsical, slightly insane, or kind of drunk.  The etymology is: like a pixie.  It’s totally my new favourite word.  “Capricious” can suck it.  Anyway, I want to start using pixilated in conversations, but if discreet/discrete gives me troubles I’ll probably never get away with calling a drunk pixilated.

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Disaster-Free Sunday

So, Sunday with no internet on the reference desk was completely boring and disaster-free.  Basically no one came, and I sat quietly at the desk and read some boring articles I’d printed off at home (the printers didn’t work, either).

I crafternooned the other afternoon, crafting Christmas ornaments that even particularly talentless children would be ashamed of.  I’m still giving them away as gifts, though, because the part of my brain that feels shame is apparently broken, or it will be once I make some more boozey hot chocolate.  My favourite is googly-eyed pinecone baby Jesus.  I’m still finding glitter on myself, which is exciting, because glitter rocks!

I’m going to go up a grade in kickboxing, meaning I’ll get my yellow handwrappers!  It’s like getting a yellow belt in karate, if you’re at all familiar with that.  It’s still really lame, is what I’m saying, but I’m kind of excited anyway, not least of all because my white handwrappers are too short, and sort of falling apart, and all stained black from doing pushups in that parkade that time.

Last week I went four days without working out, and I got incredibly cranky by the end of it.  Withdrawal!  I really am an addict!  I sort of wonder, though, maybe I was always that cranky before, and I just noticed it suddenly because it’s been so long?  Anyway, I was basically jonesing for kickboxing.

Oh, I learnt that I should get a cup.  Like, what guys get, for their balls.  And girls don’t have balls, but we need to wear cups, too.  I forgot to ask if there are specialized girl cups, which I assume there must be.  Very different shapes happening.  The SportChek website isn’t really helping.  I’ll report back on this mystery.

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Dispatches from the Reference Desk

Time for my traditional reference desk update.  Nothing new in my life.  Done!

Ah, but for reals… Next ref shift will be on Sunday, which will be the day that SMU people-not-connected-to-me have decided to spend the whole day with all the internet and databases and every computer-related-thing shut down for upgrades.  So there will be no traditional update from me, but I will be communicating via telegraph something along the lines of STUDENTS HAVE REVOLTED STOP I HAVE CONSTRUCTED A ROUGH BARRICADE OF COMPUTERS AND MUD STOP THERE IS NO GOD STOP

Three weeks until the end of term!  Whoo!  I’ve been really busy and even skipped bellydancing.  It’s even been so crazy I’m skipping my morning routine, alas!  Running up every flight of stairs I find has been my only physical activity of late.  I’m finding that all those signs telling people to be more physically active are doing a number on me.  Like, I probably don’t need to be more active now, I’m really doing fine in that department, but the sign on the bus is guilt-tripping me to walk more, and I’m thinking that I could walk more, but I have goddamned things to do, you judgemental bus sign, I can’t walk everywhere.  At some point this will really be some sort of illness.  Over-active-itis.

Thing I forgot from kickboxing: there are six different ways to throw an elbow!  And I remember none of them!  We were supposed to be doing all six in sequence, and I was just, like, what, so Kristian kept showing me and I was still just what.  We need these things on YouTube so I can do them at home during all that free time I don’t have.  Anyway, fun times.  One comes from above, which is pretty entertaining and I hope we incorporate more into the class, even though I still kind of suck at normal elbows.

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So… much… pain…

OK, so I learnt what conditioning is, and I learnt that it sucks.  It’s a kickboxing thing.  Basically, you get your body accustomed to being in pain by putting it in terrible, terrible pain.  We basically spent an hour on Saturday smacking each others’ forearms as hard as possible, all in the name of pain acclimation.  I don’t even have awesome bruises to show for it!  They are teeny, pale bruises.  I have a feeling they may be the deep, slow-forming sort of bruises that will bloom, glorious yellow, in two days time (I have become a bruise connoisseur).

I skipped grappling today, because at 1am last night I suddenly realized I have two assignments due this week, not just one.  Whoops!  I’m currently theoretically working on cataloguing, because it’s time to figure what a main heading is do some good work really well!

I bought new workout pants yesterday.  They are not from Zellers, so hopefully will not completely suck.  Burpees are miserable enough without my pants constantly threatening to slide down my ass.  To test their stay-on-my-ass-ability, I was totally doing jumping jacks in the changing rooms, desperately praying that the saleslady wouldn’t hear and be all, like, “Ma’am, are you stroking out in there?”  My point is: SportsChek should make changing rooms big enough for burpees.

I thought of a really good public service announcement, which I feel should be shared with the world.  OK, so there’s a princess in a tower, all Rapunzel-like.  Then she comes out of the tower, and immediately falls on a penis.  Then the PSA says, “If you’ve had sex, get a Pap!”  Brilliant, right?

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Filed under great ideas, kickboxing, school, stupid jokes

Frigid Fighter Friday!

So I went to the badass Friday night kickboxing at The Club (this club, if you’ve ever wondered what I’m talking about), and I will surely be in terrible pain tomorrow for regular kickboxing at Dal.  The workout portion focused on legs.  The “easiest” thing was to be in a squat, then go down on one knee, then the other knee, then up with one knee, then up with the other, returning to the squat.  Because this was easiest, Gerald made us do 50.  Apparently, there must always be 50 of something.  Sure it sucks for exercise, but I’ll definitely be applying this rule to candy and kisses.

I learnt a very cool thing.  Apparently, I am a “frigid fighter”, which means I move in a very twitchy way.  This is actually really good (Gerald was quick to point this out when I looked hurt), because it means it’s hard for my opponent to predict my moves.  Effin’ A!  (Probably explains why I’m such a shitty dancer, though.)  At the time, we were doing drills that involved getting kicked in the stomach, and I joked I was three months pregnant, because that’s how I roll.

This class was advertised as lasting an hour and a half, and I left after three hours.  Turns out, there’s a special bonus grappling class for anyone who feels like hanging out afterwards, and boy did I feel like further procrastinating on that cataloguing assignment grappling.  So I can surprise Courtney on Sunday with my new moves!  I got to practice falling, which is as graceful an art as you can imagine (IT’S NOT GRACEFUL, BUT I AM LESS LIKELY THAN EVER TO BREAK MY ARM).

Wow, it’s been almost a week since I updated.  Sorry, I was totally catching up on homework and “living life” like some sort of lamewad.  Except yesterday.  Yesterday was all “me time” (except for kickboxing, I figured veterans would be cool with kickboxing).

I finally watched Sophie’s Choice.  Wow, is that movie completely different from what I thought.  Way fewer Nazis, way more “Kevin Kline goes off his meds”.

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An important offer

I am offering piggyback rides to people what wants ’em.  Think of me as a short-range rickshaw, but a rickshaw you’re not paying, and it gets bored eventually and just puts you down wherever.  This offer is not valid to creepy, creepy freaks.

I always get the best bruises from grappling!  Today I got a bunch of new weird bruises that seriously make me look like some kind of poxied freak, not even kidding.  All sorts of spots on my right bicep, some light brown, some bright blue, a few dark.  I may have picked up the Plague, is what I’m saying.  We also took a group photo at the end of class, and I debated brushing my hair, because should I be “coifed” or “authentic”?  I went with “authentic”, because I am also “lazy”.  Some guy was taking a bunch of pictures during rolling, so if photos arise of me choking a lady or getting choked, this is why.

Went to Tribeca with kickboxers last night.  Clubbing with kickboxers is ridiculously fun, because there is no fear of any trashy club people.  This drunk on the dance floor tried to get a bit handsy with me, and I totally wasn’t worried because I’m pretty badass on my own, but I knew if he got unfortunate I had a bunch of even more badass backup within about four feet.

Tammy and Laura were describing Friday nights at the martial arts club, which are basically bootcamp with kickboxing at the end, and sometimes even some grappling.  Everything I like!  I always hear about Friday because various kickboxers are always in pain on Saturday.  Anyway, Tammy asked why I don’t come to Friday nights, and I couldn’t think of any reason that I don’t, so I think we can all see where this ends!

Now I’m on the reference desk, and totally intending to do some homework, but also totally updating my blog so we can see how well that’s going.  I’m very sleepy, and my thighs are in fantastic pain from dancing in heels last night.  (Or from doing kicking drills yesterday afternoon, whatevs.)  I danced for like, two hours, then I stopped and was like, “That was gre-DEAR GOD MY LEGS!!”

Oh, I apparently have weirdly thin thighs.  I kept getting comments from people about my thin legs, and it turns out it’s my thighs, specifically, that are oddly thin.  I don’t know what to do with this information, but rock on, awesome thighs.  You are hard to show off in a skirt without me coming off like a whore, but I love you anyway.

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