Friday, November 26, 2004
the sore life
Fucking busy, sore, sore life.
I am covered in bruises...not from an abusive relationship (even if he was abusive, I see him too rarely for him to have caused these), but from being attacked by gym equipment, chairs, and cupboards. I am either anemic or else just really bloody clumsy.
I was at one of my training sessions the other day with Mel (who I like a lot, despite, or perhaps because of, her slave-driving tendencies. Guess that tells you something about me you probably didn't know, doesn't it?), and we (by we, I mean me) were halfway through the workout, having already done sprints, which descend me to the mental equivalent of a blinded hamster, and doing back extensions on a Roman chair. This is a contraption that closely resembles a torture device, and when I got off the chair between sets so Mel could show me the next trick, I nicked (and I say nicked, because that's really what it felt like) my leg just below the knee on an exposed bolt. It was several minutes and at least two more sets before I realised that I was covered in blood. I pointed it out to Mel and she gasped and ran to get some paper towels. I shrugged it off cause it didn't really hurt -- but now I've got this gash and huge purple bruise that makes kneeling very unfun.
Some sex program is on TV...I am damn distracted. Did you know that the Greeks and Romans believed that oral sex would damage their ability to give honest speeches. HA! That's a literal attitude if I've ever seen one.
Oooh, Colin Farrel is on now. I can't agree with Dag here -- I think he's bloody hot, plus there's my terminal weakness for Irish accents, and apparently he has a big....
Fuck...
I can't wait to see Alexander. Waaahhh!
Anyway.
I was thinking yesterday about how very shitty it is to be far far away from so many good friends.
Email and phone and msn do not cut it for me. When they're not around, there is no holding a grudge, there is no staying mad, there is no patching things up, there is no anger, love, passion, friendship, support, in any real and tangible way. I have discovered that I live much more in the realm of action than I realised. Feelings are important, yes, but what is more important is having someone there when you need them, physically and mentally there, close enough to touch and hug and make breakfast and lunch and dinner for. Close enough to watch a movie on the same laptop, to go from a "can I call over" sms to a visit in five minutes, to apply my eyeliner flawlessly in a way I could never duplicate, to drink scotch with over Christmas, to get massively drunk and stoned with (preferably in a field in the middle of the night until we can feel the blood pulsing through our veins and until the trees start to look like gorillas), to yell at and cry with and laugh with, to swear at Romania with, to sit with at a Vietnamese buffet and enjoy a little bit of un-Swissness, to travel with to places near and far, to get into trouble and joy with, to be annoyed and inspired at the same time, to live with no matter what!
Ah yes, I miss it all. The good and the bad, the gray and the bright and all of it. Everything, everything is a poor subsitute for being surrounded by friends you cherish in the deepest way.
I am feeling it this year, big-time, having few people to turn to in pain and in victory, having no one to make French toast for on Friday mornings.
As a result, I am utterly stressed out with school and life, and discouraged by so many things that I should probably be celebrating.
Anyway, that's all for now.
Chinese food and Boy awaits.
It's not all sad.
-N
