Tag Archives: homework

Scar Buddy!

Man, I totally discovered my scar buddy last night.  Sasha from the club and I have the same surgical scars on our arms from breaking our arms in various gnarly ways.  The scars are, like, two long straight scars, one either side of the forearm, where the doctors go in to put the stupid bones back together.  I have seriously never seen anyone else with these scars, so I was pretty excited.  Sasha broke his arm in a being cool in high school football, while I was an idiot child who fell off a hay bale.  We also have similar knee scars.  I’d say three scar match-ups make scar buddies.  As such, Sasha and I are scar buddies.  I think that’s only a thing you can have if you’ve lived a certain kind of life.  A poorly thought-out life.

Oh, we had some fun exercising last night.  Some switching from high knees (jumping-as-high-as-you-can-and-tucking-your-knees-to-your-chest) to squats (squatting).  One day, I will get trapped in an old school Super Mario game, and I will rock the crap out of it, and it will be all thanks to my constant practice at jumping and squatting, courtesy of Gerald’s kickboxing class.  “Oh yeah, here’s a block, I’mma jump up and break it.  Now here’s a ledge, just let me squat down and slide under it.  Not even breaking a sweat, hell yeah.”

We also did human leg presses, which I really love.  These are like a normal leg press you would do with weights, but weights are hard to find, so instead you use a person!  The funniest thing about these is, for me, I have a harder time being the weight than I do being the lifter.  It’s a real trust exercise!  You can’t actually have any of your weight on your feet, so you’re just barely balanced on the tips of your toes and trusting your partner won’t let you fall.  I trust, I trust, but I’m a huge baby about that stuff!  Another thing about this exercise is that is wasn’t designed for the ladies, so to speak.  There is the possibility I had a footprint in my cleavage when I got home, is what I’m saying.  It’s faded!  Maggie also said she could feel my ribs shifting around, which is so delightfully weird.  I kept getting told to engage my abs.  I’m told that a lot.  I think, really, I should just do that automatically, all the time.  Kickboxing, yoga, at the grocery store, sitting in class.  Just Shannon, engaging her abs.

We did a lot of Thai kicks, which I love and got some good pointers on so I’m better at now.  Thai kicks are like a round kick, but with the shin contacting instead of the foot, and they are very fun.  (I would find a video, but we’re getting into kickboxing/Muay Thai distinctions that the YouTube search algorithms are just not equipped to deal with.)  Anyway, basically with a Thai kick you can kick a person from the same range that you can punch them from, and that is just gravy.  Those Thais think of everything!

I have looking through my tags, and I noticed a lot of my entries are tagged “shenanigans”.  If I were naming this blog now, I probably would’ve gone for some sort of pun, along the lines of “Shannon-igans”.  Which is probably why it’s good that I’m not naming this blog  now.  I would’ve had my internetting license taken away right then and there.

Oh wow, in other blog news, I might start doing some sort of weekly linkspam of all those ridiculous links I put up on Facebook, since they are apparently a source of excellent time-wastitude and not everyone reading this on my Facebook and anything I can do to spread the link/timewasting love is cool with me.  If I put them in a separate post, I’ll make sure they don’t post automatically to Facebook, just because a Facebook update that the blog post of all my links that I put up on Facebook last week is just too tedious for thought.  Oh man, oh man, but I will value-add.  I will tell you the best parts of the articles to read.  “Just skip to the middle, that’s the cool part.”  I’ve been holding off on that, but forget it, I’m just gonna do that from now on.  “Paragraph three is where it’s at.  Just past the picture.”

I have a week and a half left of this graduate degree, then I will be done!  Done like dinner, stick a fork in me!  So much homework, so I am blogging.  No energy for shenanigans.  Not even one shenanigan.  Must finish projects.

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Filed under exercise, fucking inanity, great ideas, kickboxing, school

Spin me right round

Chilling on the desk.  Man, things are winding down so fast, pretty soon you guys won’t be getting reference desk updates from me any more.  And if I were a more together sort of person, I would actually know the date I finish and everything.  I like to be surprised, OK?  My life is a goddamned magical journey.

I fiddled with the my blog some more, and now I have a tag cloud (ooohhhh) and a blogroll (woooow).  And I put the Archives way at the bottom, because fuck archives.  Not the discipline, I’m cool with the discipline.  I also have no specific hostility toward that class other people are in but I am not.  But the box.  On my page.  That I feel obligated to have, but it’s throwing off my feeling of design.  Man, fuck that box.  Also, regarding the blogroll.  There’s four of them for some reason, so there’s that.  And, yes, I know I have a loose definition of the word “blog”, in that many of my links are not remotely blogs, by any stretch of the imagination, not at all.  Anyway, I only inflicted one linguistics blog on you, and zero newsy-politics things, because this is a fun-times blog and I am a deeply insecure person.

In “punching things” news, I have been terribly slack this week because school classes are so close to being finished and homework is, like, so totally real, dude.  I didn’t get to the club at all this week, as I am a huge lame-o.  But this was the last week of Dal classes for a while, so I made sure to get there.   We did piggyback calf-raises, which is my favourite way to do calf-raises.  Then we learned how to dodge a round kick to the head, which meant your partner had to miss kicking you in the head, repeatedly.  Holy crap, there is just no way to make that look graceful.  Your leg goes way up high and then just sails away into the ether and you spin.  At this point, apparently your best bet is one of those cool spinning back kicks because just why the fuck not?  You have to salvage that stupidness by trying something extra-awesome, and you’re already spinning.

Attended a fancy drinks night and drank fancily.  My contribution to food was Superstore sushi, because I suck like that.  And sushi is awesome, even if it’s from the Superstore.  Anyway, I said incandescently hilarious things that I can’t repeat here because I forget what I said, which I’m pretty sure is my brain is trying to protect all of you from me.  (Every time I get close to remembering, I have a seizure.  True story, by which I mean complete lie.)

I got that Firefox 4, which is kind of weirding me out.  It switched around the “open link in new window” and “open link in new tab” buttons are on their right-click menu, and I don’t know if you guys know this about me, but I open pretty much every link ever in a new tab.  So I keep opening things in new windows accidentally and crying in frustration and throwing things out the window and setting fires.  Now I’m at work and everything’s backwards again and I’m messing up backwards.  Pretty sure this is hell.  If I were stubbing my toe and biting on tinfoil, it would definitely be hell.

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So damn lazy

I’ve had so much homework, so I’ve been skipping my various ass-kicking classes.  Well, two of them this week.  Not too bad, I suppose.  Except I’ve been writing boring papers instead of working out/beating ass.  My little row of post-it notes is getting steadily shorter, though!  Success!

Did do a nice amount of sparring on Saturday, though, mainly with Rosie.  We’re well-matched, so it was really fun to spar together.  We were also practicing trash-talking with each other.  I think I’m too nice to be a good trash-talker.  Oh well!  We were doing a lot of practice with the clinch, learning how to escape the clinch and immediately lock your opponent up in your own clinch.  So Rosie and I decided to try to see how long we could keep going with an uninterrupted chain of clinches.  Rosie would get me, then I’d get her, then she’d get me… I think we had up to five or six in a row before we gave up.  Anyway, now I have this ideal of the Eternal Clinch.  It’s where warriors go when they die.  It’s like poetry, because I don’t understand poetry.

Went clubbing Saturday night.  I learned that people who go clubbing with leg casts receive lots of high fives.  As for me, I was planning on having bare legs because clubs are hot and sweaty, but I realized when I had my dress on that my legs were all bruised.  Dang!  The life of a lady fighter is a tough one.  And like five of the guys I saw wandering around had no shirts on.  Lucky bastards.

We discussed blogs in class today, and the prof asked who had blogs, and what did they put on their blogrolls.  Man, I don’t have a blogroll.  I read blogs, but a lot of them are newsy, political things.  Or completely ridiculous.  I guess I should make a blogroll.  I also want to go through and start tagging posts as to topic.  It’s hard!  Every single post is just going to be labeled “red hot inanity”.

Kathleen and I went to a talk on repaying student loans on Monday, which was super-informative and I will share my notes on it with whoever wants them.  Like twelve people from all of Dalhousie came, and three of them were from the library school, because we are awesome dorks.  The guy who put it on had a vocal cadence kind of like a movie thug, though, which made me think that Student Loans may have repurposed him from “collections” or something.  They have this new image, they’ve stopped cutting off thumbs and breaking kneecaps, they need to find something for this guy to do, as far away from a switchblade as possible.

Yesterday I was having a weirdly high self-esteem day.  I mean, my self-esteem is pretty high anyway, but yesterday it was just off the charts.  I really should’ve written some cover letters, but they might’ve gone badly.  “Why should you hire Shannon?  Because I rock.  I will rock the reference right outta your desks.  Call me, bitches~  Peace out, double kiss.”

I had the great brainwave today that we should all write cover letters for each other.  Because we’d be more relaxed, and it’s easier to talk up someone else than yourself.  Again, this might go badly.  “If you don’t hire Kathleen, I will come for you.  In the night!

OK, I’ve added tags to this post.  Holy crap, are they inane.  I don’t know how specific I’m supposed to get.  I’ll go back and add them to my previous posts, too, when I’m feeling like avoiding homework sometime.  Oh, man, maybe I’ll even add that excerpt thing, a blogroll, and I’ll be like a fully formed blogger.

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Who would pay to see this?

Man, so, in kickboxing today, we were practicing stuff with jabs.  So we had to keep jabbing, over and over again, which, if you don’t know, is the quick little punch you throw with you left hand.  Needless to say, as the exercise continued, the left arm got more and more tired.  Rosie and I were discussing how it was good conditioning for an actual fight, but I figured an actual fight would probably let you use your other arm eventually.  Then it dawned on me.  The World Jab Championships!  I have no idea how these fights would be set up, all I know is that they would have to go on for hours, and they could only involve jabs.  Two men enter the cage, only the best jabber leaves.  Oh yeah, this idea is gold.

My hair is becoming a definite issue.  It’s gotten so long that the bottom of my ponytail is getting all sweaty and tangled up over my face while I’m training.  Maybe I need to figure out french braids.  Or become less disgusting, one of these.

Tuesday kickboxing involved an exercise where Gerald let us chose “Do you want to do 20 pushups on your own count, or 10 on my count?”  We voted 20 on our own.  So he switched to 30 on our own, or 15 on his count.  Dammit!  Basically, the number would keep going up until we agreed to let him count the pushups.  We did 5 reps of 15, and he was, like, “If you think about it, 75 isn’t really that many pushups.”  I’d whine about it, but my sweet biceps speak for themselves.  And they ask for more pushups.

(Oh yeah, I discovered that, whatever else may suck about them, doing pushups on your knuckles is way easier on your wrists.  So, you look completely hardcore, make your punchy muscles… punchier, and keep your delicate, ladylike wrists in prime tea-drinking condition.)

I had some fun times making myself useful at an office today, for a group project.  Cubicle fun!  Well, really, I was just acutely aware of the fact that other people could probably hear me talking.  Weirdly, I worked in a cubicle all summer, but they were the waist-high cubicles, and the fact that I could see everyone anyway just led to me being as loud and giggle-fabulous as I usually am.  As soon as I can’t see people, apparently it’s time for stage whispers and miming stuff out.

It is homework season!  I seriously have less than a month left of classes, I don’t understand.  Basically, I’m doing lots of homework and neglecting my poor blog because I have nothing interesting to write about.  Today I spent hours looking for trade publications on the dairy industry!  Whoo!  I have to say, I’m kind of disappointed that I didn’t run across any sort of skin magazine called, like, “Canadian Milkman”.  Not that I’m looking for that, but I feel like it should exist.  It’s a matter of principle!  Sexy milkman principle.

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Got my jill!

Went with Kathleen to my first yoga class in ages this week.  Very nice!  Tiny class, and the instructor will actually perform corrections, which I love and the yoga people at the gym never did.  This instructor made us do some of that terribly athletic stuff, too, which I always resent in yoga for some reason, despite relishing with Gerald.  Planks belong in bootcamp, god damn you!  But seriously, I liked it.  I have the world’s shittiest plank, anywhere I can practice it is probably for the best.

Gerald said that he wouldn’t let us spar any more unless we got cups.  Oh yes, Jessie solved my mystery for me, there are girl cups, they are called jills.  It is the cutest name for a thing on your crotch ever!  Anyway, I have one, I’ve been avoiding wearing it but I guess I’ll have to now.  I actually got kicked in the relevant area fairly hard last week, and I can see the value of the jill, good to get it before I get kicked really hard.  Oh yeah, to prove we’re wearing them, Gerald will ask “who’s knockin’?” and then you knock on your crotch.  None of this is a euphemism for anything.  Kickboxing is weird.

I have homework I should be starting, but I’m updating my blog instead.  Either I’m really slacking off on my homework… or really dedicated to my blog.  You decide!  Seriously, January is almost finished, how does that even make sense?

I’m introducing a new segment to my blog to annoy Kathleen called: Whatever Policies!  It is about my stupid policies.  Today I will talk about how I broke my No Pants Policy by buying pants last night, from the mall and everything.  They are jeans, but they’re pretty soft so hopefully not completely uncomfortable.  I bought them so I can go for walks in the woods and not get ticks on my bare legs, but they’re actually really cute pants and now I don’t want to get them torn and tick-infested.  My life is terribly difficult.  Is there a policy for that?

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New Dance Thing!

I went to a new Monique dance class today!  Bollywood fusion!  I was planning to do Bellydance level 2, but Bollywood is so fun I may just do that instead.  Plus, it’s a workout/dance class, so apparently it’s like Zumba, if I ever were to figure out what Zumba is.  Anyway, there’s this one move where you essentially do Goddess Pose from yoga, but then you jump thirty times while sticking out your tongue and opening your eyes as wide as possible.  Imitating the goddess Kali, who I am so all about, you don’t even know.  I have comparatively fewer limbs and severed heads, but the big rack is there.  There are also moves that are all elegant and what-have-you, if that’s what you’re into.  At the start of class, we have to stretch our fingers, because we do all sorts of finger things called, like, lotus and peacock.  Then we speed it up like crazy and put it to Jai Ho.  Oh, I will enjoy being terrible at this.

First class of the last semester yesterday!  Yay!  I’ve already done some actual homework and everything.  Oh, I’m so adorably energetic when classes start.  I had to restrain myself from barrelling like a linebacker to the signup sheet for group presentations.  I don’t care what I’m presenting on, I just want to go first, goddammit.  Of course, I am still going first.  People hate going first, I really had no competition.

OK, this is weird, but does this ever happen to you, Internet?  This morning, my radio had spontaneously changed stations on me!  I always keep my clock radio (every radio, really) on CBC Radio 2, and this morning when my alarm went off it was two stations over, at some top-40 station.  I don’t know the name of it, because I don’t know any of the other stations, on account of the aforementioned only-one-channelling I do (I can verb anything, because I am a word wizard).  It was an unnerving way to wake up, anyway.  I always wake up to the last two seconds of Bob Mackowycz talking, then the little musical intro to the news, and if I don’t have to actually get up that day, I can stay in bed and listen to said news.  This morning, some guy was talking, about things, and then music was playing.  It was like a nightmare!  I seriously assumed I was still sleeping.

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Filed under dancing, fucking inanity, school

Centurion!

My one kickboxing class of the week last night.  We did something called the century circuit, which is 100 pushups, 100 situps, 100 squats, 100 kicks, and 200 punches.  Possibly some other things, too, the part of my brain that processes “remembering stuff” tends to shut down during these things.  Then we got down to technical fun things, like hitting each other.

After that, SIM Christmas party!  In retrospect, there wasn’t much particularly Christmas-y about it, but the party aspect was really what drew me more.  Also, the free food part.  I ran there straight after kickboxing, so I was still sweaty (not even all my sweat, since we were practicing grabbing heads, aka clinches), and I had my huge duffel bag with my gym clothes and gloves inside.  I was showing them off to folks!  The gloves, I mean, not the gross gym clothes.

I discovered last night that I’m, like, the only kickboxer at the club who’s never watched a UFC match.  This will have to be fixed soon, I guess, but it’s hard to work up the interest.  I’ve been invited to watch with some of the Dal students from the club, which sounds like the best way to do it.  They also want to watch Twilight and do a shot and twenty pushups every time a vampire sparkles.  This feels to me like the only way to watch Twilight!

I spent almost the whole day inside writing my final paper for Knowledge Management.  After it stopped raining, I walked to the grocery store just to get out and move, rather than any particular need for groceries.  Chocolate was the inevitable result.

Oh yeah, as the result of the paper I just wrote, I learnt a whole bunch of crap about robots, so be prepared for me to come running up and start conversations with “HOLY CRAP DID YOU HEAR ABOUT ROBOTS?!” and you’ll be all “I AM IN THE BATHROOM” and I’ll be all “… ROBOTS!”

Another party tomorrow!  Also, more homework!  I will rock that Systems presentation, I will rock its face right off!

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