Monday, January 14, 2008

Merry Christmas...Holy shit! Where's the Tylenol.

Yes I do realize that it is no longer the holiday season, but let me pretend for the sake of the quote.

In so many ways, the holidays are that time where the true character of all your friends and family is given permission to be unleashed upon the world, and for some reason promptly forgiven - tis the season. And by that I mean this, and by this I mean the following: There are two kinds of people in life - the ones who give shit gifts and the ones who don't.

I was granted the gift of extra FAT this year, HAPPY 2008!, as well as the haunting realization that alcohol and tacos are in fact NOT diet foods. This is the first I've learned of this fact.

And it is now that I formally announce, in all my muffin-topped glory, that I will be running the 2008 San Diego Rock and Roll Marathon in June. And by running I mean jogging, and by jogging I mean rolling.

It seems only fitting.

The first day of my marathon training really began last nite. Upon trying to doze off early for a change, I was faced with the daunting task of drowning out the Wicca meeting taking place next door. That's right, people - witch lady has only gotten stranger and louder, and I think offered up her home for regular midnite gatherings. And said gatherings are gaining more of a following, I might add, because the caucophony of voices is growing. Thank God.

When I finally reached a state of somewhat-slumber, I was greeted with a dream that can only be described as a bad TNT crime drama. I and another faceless friend were in a park on a typical backdrop-sunny day, when we discovered two bloody dead bodies in the bathroom. I knew this was a dream immediately, because I generally don't go in rec park bathrooms, nor do I have any faceless friends. But my mind decided to go for a ride and stay sleeping anyway. As the dream became progressively more scary and weird, me and my fake comrade were being chased by two crooked cops, after us to cover up their ugly mistake of dumping their murder victims in the park we dream-frequented so often.

Thank you retarded imagination.

Due to this seemingly frightening dream, I woke up yet again at 4:30AM. But don't worry, I was immediately thoroughly entertained by my next-door sorceress, with her eerie singing and too-loud television.

But somehow, I still managed to drag my ass out of bed and half run / half almost-vomit out my 2 miles for the day. But not without forgetting to use my inhaler and getting stuck in 25 minutes of 1.5 mile traffic on the way home from the gym, which is longer than my actual workout.

I'm pretty sure the next training day will be a better one.