I should fuck up my shoulder more often.

First 10 minutes of PT: "heat" (and by heat I mean super fucking hot and AWESOME, wrapped around my back and shoulder. sweet).

Next 10 minutes: Ultrasound (can hardly feel this, basically like a tiny massager, just kind of a pleasant hmmm, but supposedly it is doing stuff "down deep" in the muscle).

Next 10 minutes: Soft tissue massage (swoon).

Of course the strength stuff after that kinda sucks. I would like to just repeat the first 30 minutes over and over again.

In fact, if someoneTahmoh Penikett would like to move into my apartment and be my personal PTer every morning and night, I'd happily do theirhis laundry [among other things... ha ha ha ha].

Reminder to self: It's only Tuesday.

New Death Cab album out today to buy when I get home.

And new apples in the fridge to eat. A new How I Met Your Mother to watch (from last night). And new Gossip Girl as well. If I can tear myself away from BSG. Some piles to put away. And clothes to hang up.

I've got shit to do and I want to be home RIGHT NOW. :(

And there goes the weekend.

I was actually SO productive yesterday that I was going to put up an hour-by-hour post.

But my Internet seemed to be down so that plan went to shit(e).

I only watched three eps of BSG (could have been SO MANY MORE and did have to watch another one this morning when I woke up!) and actually spent three-four hours working on a quilt (!!) and two-three hours working on the CD Reorg Project.

So there you have it. The compact(ed) version.

I have gotten nothing done all week.

Not a damn thing.

Let alone the things that need to get done - who cares about those - but what about the things I claim in my head to want to get done?

Grrrrr.

And sometimes, every once in a while,

things turn out exactly as you had planned.

How's the weather where you are? It's frakking raining like crazy ass in Chicago right now.

I never claimed to be normal.

So doctors get all wiggy when your blood pressure is 82/50. But that's my usual (and my Dad's). When I get to the 100s, that's when I worry.

And your friends get all wiggy when it turns out you are the only one who knows her credit card number by heart. Really? No one?

This is going to be a long week. Although not for any aforementioned reasons.

It's stormin', Norman. Better not mess with my flight tonight, ya hear.

Niji-Jo (-jo = castle), Kyoto, Japan.
(digital SLR, Nikon D70S)

Art Institute, Chicago, IL, USA.
(Film! Nikon FM2, Kodak Ultragold 100)

Between Chicago and Portland (Montana???), Up up in the Sky, Galaxy.
(digital Point-n-Shoot, Konica Revio)

Climate Change isn't "the Future". It's "the Now".

My parents got another FOOT of snow on Friday afternoon, April 25, in a flash storm (this is after they got two feet on Thurs the 17th). And by FLASH I mean, one minute there were lightly dropping flakes and 100% visibility, my Dad turned his back, and the next minute there was eight inches on the ground and zero visibility.

It took him two hours to drive 60 miles home.

When we lived in Northern Minnesota, you might still see snow in mid-April (when Easter usually is although not this year). But not at the end of the month. And they live about 5 hours south of there now, in Central Minnesota.

Wake up and smell the global warming, people.

In unrelated news, the Hasselblad works. Yay! :)

Retail Therapy.

Sometimes new socks are all you need.

Sometimes in MANY colors. Whee.

I keep needing it to be two weeks into the future.

And it keeps being today instead.

I also really need my season 2 and 2.5 and 3 discs of BSG to come in the mail YESTERDAY or LAST WEEK. The suspense is killing me.

So inconvenient of time to not jump when and where I want it to.