I was all het up to play some innertube water-polo tonight, and I showed up and our team wasn’t on tonight! So sad! I swam precisely one lap anyway, because my bathing suit was new and it was getting wet, goddammit. Swimming in the Dal pool is less fun than the public pool with the nephews, because everyone swims in polite lines and I’m freaked that if I screw up a line someone will yell at me. All I want to do is a cannonball.
Kickboxing! This week is my week of learning new kicks. On Tuesday I did some crazy hopping-on-one-foot kick that is really powerful once you get over the fact that you look like a cartoon character. Tonight we did a variety of side kicks, which I was rocking pretty hard at. Gerald was trying to get me to kick him with full power at chest-level, which is really hard.
In yoga, the instructor, Shanna, got me to try the sleeping yogi pose. I almost got it, too! I think I had my feet behind my head (honestly can’t remember), and I think if I give myself more time to work at it, I’ll actually be able to get my shoulders through my legs. Sweet-ass! It was so weird, anyway. I was struggling really hard to get my shoulders through this circle made by my thighs, and just as I thought, “Holy crap, this is like I’m giving birth to myself” Shanna said, “Give birth to yourself!” So I guess that’s the point of the pose? I think the other point is that, if I ever get it, I need a photo of it to immediately become my new Facebook profile picture.
Some discussion of the art of job interviews, lately. Some interviewers purposefully say mean things to test the candidate’s response to stress. I think I should never perform interviews, because my version of this would be something like, “As soon as you sat down, and I looked in your eyes, I knew it was true love. Fuck the job, just marry me.” What else could I do? Oh my, this could be fun. “I need a kidney. No, I’m not sick. No, I don’t work for a charity. Kid, stop asking questions. Either tell me your blood type or get to the nearest homeless shelter with some ether and a hatchet.”
Also, if anyone reading this is ever in a job interview, and it’s going really well, and the interviewer says, “Well, informally, you have this job”, I will pay you money if you fart right there. Juvenile, yes, but that’s what makes it so delicious.
Made valentines today in a crafternoon-type setting in the common room. It will surprise no-one that my valentines are as ridiculous and stupid as everything else I make, but they have glitter glue, and dammit that is what’s important. It’s the thought that counts. And all my thoughts are of glitter glue.