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Skipping past Writober and Nanoblomo . . ? Shit, I dunno. I'm as bored as you are.



Tuesday, October 23, 2007

You Know How to Tell You’ve Worked Out too Hard?

It’s when your wife calls the paramedics.

See, we recently picked up an elliptical machine on Craigslist. This was to replace the recumbent stationary bike I’d been using, which had been handed down to us by Michelle’s sister; the flywheel had cracked shortly after we got it and it was noisy as Hell to ride. Anyway, I was used to just kicking back with the latest Newsweek, jamming to my iPod Shuffle and maintaining my customary 16 or 17 mph. Michelle was starting an exercise routine, though, and hated the racket; plus, she doesn’t read while working out, opting to watch TV, which would be impossible to hear.

Anyway, I’d just finished my second session on it—a standard 25-minute “no-program” program. Right at the end, during my (very short) “cool down,” I started to feel queasy. Not light-headed, just a little nauseous. I sat down on the back of the machine and was trying to slow my breathing down. And keep from throwing up as the nausea got to a more FULL-ON state. Michelle happened to be in the same room, on the computer. She kept asking if I was okay, and I was responding. Until I apparently got up, started shaking, and collapsed.

I remember thinking, briefly, that it’d be better the lie down (on the floor) as I was sitting, trying to slow my breathing/heart rate. So when I heard her calling 911, I was, all, “WTF? I’m fine . . . just had to lie down.” Apparently, I was missing the part where I slumped over into the lamp next to our bedroom doorway and Michelle tried to catch me.

The culprit was seemingly low blood sugar, which worries me as I’d eaten breakfast. But I’d also been going at it pretty hard for those 25 minutes, so I must’ve burned up all THAT sugar and any reserves stored in my lard-body. Luckily, the “instant glucose” I was given helped me narrowly escape the dreaded IV “in the truck.”


In other news, I’ll be working out and socializing and drinking and interacting with my family/Humanity much less as I’m becoming addicted to Eve Online. Did you watch Firefly/Serenity and think, “Man, how cool would that be if I could pilot my own ship and do some smuggling and blow up some space pirates?” Well, you can. I’d been obsessively surfing the official messageboards for two weeks before finally ponying up for the trial subscription and downloading the game. I spent my first hours mostly flying around one solar system feeling lost, especially considering there are, what, THOUSANDS of other systems to be explore. The graphics are top-notch, BTW.

I won’t post my character’s name because, otherwise, someone will find and destroy my n00b ass. Seriously, don’t PWN me, PvPers. ‘Cuz I’m a total fucking carebear.

shaken and poured by Scott-san on 10/23 at 12:12 PM
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Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Unless I’m Killed by Pickled Particulates

So, some friends of ours are getting married and, during the pre-wedding planning party (yes, the bride is very organized), we found out that the reception location (her parents’ yard) was gonna need some cleaning/attention. Volunteering for cleanup duties was strongly encouraged. The first* cleanup event was Saturday. It was real work, but fun. And hot.

The highlight had to be the part where we found three full-size coolers buried beneath junk in the outdoor storage area. Coolers jam-packed with liquor and wine. As the bride’s father tells it, their older daughter was drinking all their booze so he put it all in coolers and hid them outside. Twenty years ago. And then forgot about them. That’s how I came to be in possession of some aged-in-glass-bottles quantities of Jack Daniels (1.75 liters!) and Crown Royal. I’ll be hoping this isn’t my last post ever over a tasty Crown and Ginger.

* There will inevitably be others . . . based on what’s left to be done.

shaken and poured by Scott-san on 07/17 at 07:30 AM
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Wednesday, June 27, 2007

When Corporate “Specials” Do Not Rely on Your Dishonesty. At All.

This past weekend, we had no obligations whatsoever. No shows or band practices. No recording. No plans with friends. No parties or dinners. Nothing.

This happens about two times a year.

I can’t say we really took full advantage of our “free” time, but we did get SOME things done around the house. And visited with family. Spent time with Mia. Saturday felt like such a long day that, going to bed that night, I couldn’t believe we still had Sunday. It, seriously felt like a three-day weekend. Love me.

In other news:

shaken and poured by Scott-san on 06/27 at 12:48 PM
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Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Testing the Limits of SPF Technology

We’re back from our beach trip. If you know me at all, either in real life or this virtual one, you know I hate being at the beach. Well, we were at the beach for something like four days and four nights. And, lemme tell you, I never want to go to the beach again . . . unless it’s exactly like that. We stayed in an amazing house with a passel of blogger-ly types, ate great food, drank the perfect amounts of alcohol (except for that one night with the grape vodka and ziti), and kept my beach exposure to a minimum. I’m not joking; the house was right ON the beach (separated by a POOL, motherfuckers), so out of the 40-some-odd hours we were there, I touched sand for about one of them. One hour.

There was lots of SUN exposure though. Between the constant pool time Mia was demanding and the fact that the sun was full-ON every day, I was really pushing that SPF 50 Coppertone Baby stuff as far as I could. And I’m happy to report, that I didn’t burn anywhere.

The flipside to all of this is that, due to the omnipresent Guitar Hero playing, I never want to hear “Sweet Child o’ Mine” or “Girlfriend” or even “Message in a Bottle” ever again.

In a related note, my wife is, as I type this, pricing PS2/Guitar Hero combos on Ebay.

Also, in true Lunchbreak fashion, we didn’t take any pictures. At all. Didn’t even bring our camera. But other people did. Well, not OUR camera . . . you get the picture.

shaken and poured by Scott-san on 05/09 at 07:41 AM
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Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Let’s NOT Dwell on the “Stale Bread” Symbolism

Continuing this blog’s momentum-less track record, I spent the weekend mostly away from the Internets. Which was partially due to our connection at home being intermittent, and Patricia’s warning that her host’s server was going to be down.

Mia had another one of those pesky “fever viruses” starting Saturday afternoon and lasting through Sunday, so she had to stay “home” from school yesterday. Meaning, she was at work with one of us for most of the day. Blah, blah, blah. Man, I’m so bored writing about my life. Or what I THINK, for that matter, but that won’t stop me from typing it out . . . with HTML code to make it into a bulleted list:

shaken and poured by Scott-san on 02/28 at 02:56 PM
Boob TubeMusicWeekends (1) Comments closedPermalink

Monday, January 15, 2007

The Year was 1275 . . .

Michelle’s threatening to watch the Golden Globes. Considering how far removed from what’s going on in the world of cinema as it relates to pop culture I am, I’ll probably just sit here on the laptop blogging, or playing Scrabble or Civ III. (Illustrative tidbit: Entertainment Weekly printed a list of 25 movies you have to see before the Academy Awards next month, and I’ve seen NONE of them. Not a one.)

The past six days with Mia being sick and/or out of school have been surprisingly unharrowing. Except when she was being snotty and demanding. (Yawn.)

On to the bullets!


There's no "I" in threesome.


I can't remember whether I've seen anything new since my birthday. Oh, right, that one.


I was hoping for a little more detail in the accounts of mauling-by-zombie. But the anecdotes were disturbing, nonetheless..


I don't have a solid grasp on which exact cheap beers I had at the ATL watering holes.