Why I Don't Like to Exercise

This is me when I'm exercising.


I don't like going to the gym, because at the gym I get all sweaty and self-conscious and feel judged that I can't even handle 40lb on any of the weight machines. So instead I choose to just walk around outside while wearing sneakers and running shorts. Sometimes I walk briskly. For much of the time I think about running but realize that while it is pretty outside, it's hard to appreciate the scenery when you're dying inside. But sometimes I do choose to jog for a bit, which always ends up being an unfortunate choice.

I think, "I'm going to start jogging when I reach that sign and keep jogging until I reach that other sign." I reach the sign, take a deep breath, and start jogging. After about 10 seconds, I'm like, "Yay! This is great! I could jog forever!!!" After about 20 seconds, my knees start going "Arrrgh! No! What? Why? Pressure!" And then my heart is like, "Dude, I was already going at a pretty good rate there, and now you want me to accelerate? Do you want to collapse on the side of the road?" And my lungs are just all, "....hhhrrreeegh.....hhhhrrrooooouuuuuu..." Plus, my legs are itchy. But I keep jogging until I reach the other sign because that's the goal I set for myself, and when I do I try and recuperate and convince my organs it was all for the best. I do this three to four times on my walk, even though it takes me a good five minutes to catch my breath. And while I'm gulping in air like a dying fish (because you can never get enough oxygen through your nostrils), bugs fly into my mouth.

And that's why I don't like to exercise.

P.S. This blog was inspired by the humour of Allie from Hyperbole and a Half and I wish we were friends so she could illustrate my story (especially my lungs).

Sunset swim in the lake.

Enough said.

Somewhere between annoyed and exhausted...

The past two days have been wonderful. Work was lame (a common occurrence) but because I get off so early in the morning by the end of the day sometimes it feels I was never at work in the first place. This week has flown by and yesterday and today have been particularly pleasant.

Yesterday after work I met up with my good friend Jenna and we had a picnic in the park together. We ate delicious Co-op food and talked about everything from graduation to becoming lazy lumps of lard (which we are now trying to avoid). We spoke about my lack of interesting tangles with the law and came up with the BEST band name ever: "Quietly Illegal" (which I claim and copyright as my creation, with Jenna as my witness). Then we wandered around downtown, eating Zoey's ice cream and wondering at the weather. After stopping by her place of employment, we finally decided it was warm enough to warrant going to the lake. We changed and gathered our belongings and headed up to Emigrant Lake, laughing and singing along to "The Pirates of Penzance." We drove to the far side of the lake and found a little deserted beach, where we lay in the sun and (very briefly) swam in the cool water. We discussed plans for downsizing and running away, and implored a passing eagle for some fish (or a pizza). We basked in the warm sun until clouds came and covered it and the breeze became just too chilly for comfort. We listened to and I explained the plot of "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" (can you believe Jenna has never seen it?) and then I dropped Jenna off at her home, promising to see her more often. That evening I discovered one of my favourite films (the original Japanese "Shall We Dance?") was finally available on Netflix Instant View, so I ate dinner, went on a quick and refreshing walk, then settled down to a pleasant and nostalgic evening.

Today was similarly enjoyable. After work I went home and cleaned (which always makes me feel better) then Blaine came over and we drove up to Mill Creek Falls for the afternoon. We had a long and interesting discussion about "Harry Potter" (the seventh film of which I still have yet to see) and other interesting books we have read recently. I gave him my copy of "Dandelion Wine" to read. We laughed and joked until we reached the falls, where we traversed huge boulders and fallen logs to eat apples by the thundering river. We threw our apple cores into the river and talked about "Choose Your Own Adventure," which Blaine has never read (these are staples of my childhood, people! Where were you growing up?). We followed tiny paths through the trees, parting branches and rubbing spider webs off our faces to reach the viewpoint, where we could admire the distant falls in the warm sun and cooling breeze. We stopped for Snickers Ice Cream Bars on the way back and licked the wrappers clean. Driving home we tried to think of as many songs as we could with the word "river" (which wasn't many) and tried to make up a song that included the word "Hudspeth" (the name of a street we passed, and we never thought of a song because we couldn't decide whether the word was a noun or an adjective). We finally listened to random songs on random cds in my car and ended with the drive with the soundtrack from "Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog." Then I left Blaine to drive away to a meeting at the Festival.

I was invited to the lake this evening, and though I may slightly regret it later, I am comfortably exhausted and choosing to write this blog instead. I hope more days end up like the past few. I feel comfortable and weary and calm and happy. Knowing I have people to spend time with, knowing I have ridiculous things to say and laugh at, knowing I have beautiful places to go. They won't always stay this way, but right now, things are going pretty well. Shalom

2 Review

In the past three days I have read an incredible book and seen a wonderful play, and would like to share my thoughts on both.


I first heard about David Guterson's "Snow Falling on Cedars" through a Goodreads update sent to my email. Liz had reviewed and loved the book and I knew I had to read it as well. I picked it up at the library Tuesday afternoon and just an hour ago finished reading it in Lithia Park. I literally had a hard time putting it down. It is one of the best new books I've read in a long time (I've been rereading a lot of my favourites, though I did just read "Their Eyes Were Watching God" for the first time and also found that incredible). It was powerful, moving, thought-provoking, tense, beautiful. I'm not really into crime or trial novels so I don't have anything to compare it to, but while I would find it hard to maintain the level of tension and suspense a courtroom scene required to hold interest for readers Guterson never once allowed our minds to wander. By interspersing the trial with past and present events, the suspense holds and we draw our own conclusions and form our own opinions before the characters have a chance to react. Though I would make the case for Ishmael Chambers as the "main" character, every other player in this compelling world has depth and unique characteristics that make them equally real and important. I also appreciated the author's writing style. Although the novel contains its fair share of simile and metaphor, I never felt bogged down by inane comparisons. I never had to figure out what the author meant, and the style never felt overtly stylized or pretentious. Again, it felt like an objective (albeit intimate) observation of the events taking place within these people's lives.
I also appreciated the novel because of its themes. Set in 1954 on San Piedro Island, the book deals, among other things, with tensions between the American inhabitants and their Japanese neighbors. Having watched a lot of anime lately, I feel I have a basic, if not slightly skewed, understanding of Japanese culture and can relate to the tension Eastern and Western philosophical differences create. I also just recently watched "Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence," a film (with David Bowie!) about English and Australian soldiers in a Japanese POW camp during WWII, and the vast differences between English and Japanese social and cultural customs. There are times you don't know who to root for, because on the one hand, regardless of one's cultural, social, political, or ethnic background we are all just human beings. On the other hand, how can you reconcile your own social and personal beliefs when people are dying? It is an interesting thought, and I appreciate the openness with which Guterson explores the human heart. I thoroughly devoured and enjoyed this book, and would offer a strong recommendation to all.



Yesterday afternoon I saw the play "Ghost Light" at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. (By the way, for the longest time I thought the person in the poster was a woman, but it's not. It's a boy). It's a play written by Tony Taccone, directed by Jonathan Moscone, and is about Jonathan's reaction to and how his life was changed by the assassination of his father, Mayor George Moscone of San Francisco, and includes strong references and parallels to "Hamlet." While the reception by the audience has been mixed, I greatly enjoyed this play (and I don't think it's just because I'm from the Bay Area). While the play draws on the experiences of Jonathan Moscone and the influence of his father's assassination (or lack of, given the simultaneous death of Harvey Milk), the play never felt egocentric or even personally cathartic. I can't imagine it wasn't, but that was not its sole purpose. Through the observation of one person's incredible and incredibly personal journey, we feel within ourselves a recognition of universal emotions and situations: the loss of a loved one, a need for love, a realization of loneliness. I laughed out loud at the straight-forward humour, and brushed away tears at the statement of truth. Regardless of whether or not we knew who George Moscone was, I think we were all tickled and touched by the story of one man undergoing a tremendously difficult journey of self-awareness and acceptance.
I also really appreciated the structure of the play itself. It's not at all linear or straight-forward, and although I am a great fan of Realism, I am becoming more and more appreciative of theatre that pushes the limits of theatrical convention, that explores and blurs the boundaries between presentational and representational theatre. I loved the dreamlike and surreal nature of the text, and the syntax itself was unique and poetic. Although there were times I questioned a particular scene and its placement within the play, I later realized how that particular event triggered the next step in Jonathan's emotional journey. And sometimes it's more fun to have to figure things out. As Jon says, "we should just trust the audience to make the connections for themselves." And while all the actors were wonderful, Christopher Liam Moore's performance as Jon was absolutely astonishing and heart-breaking. Throughout the play I found myself entirely invested in the story and the characters, interested in the outcome, and affirmed in many of my beliefs about life. As the director writes, "Theater is not so good at the real, but it's pretty good at trying to get to the truth."
"Ghost Light" closes at the Festival in November, and then it moves down to Berkeley Rep, where I strongly recommend anyone in the Bay Area to see it (hint, hint, Mom). It was a funny and poignant play, and I hope to see it again before the end of its run.

There you have it! Two reviews of two magnificent pieces of entertainment. Hope you get a chance to experience each for yourself. Shalom!

Poised on the Edge of a Springboard

I feel a great anticipation, though over what I'm not sure. I feel something is going to happen. Do I have to do something about it? Will it happen to me naturally or do I have to do something, say something, to make it happen? And what is it anyway?

Maybe I'll find a better job. Maybe I'll write a great novel based on my limited experience and knowledge. Maybe I'll meet the girl of my dreams at "Ghost Light" tomorrow. "Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps."

The sky looks like it does in "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" when the aliens come to kidnap the little boy. Maybe that's what I'm anticipating. ; )

Today I missed Garfield Street. It holds fond memories of my first year at SOU, the hope chest of a new beginning. I miss the rare occasions we would all hang out, me and Will and Dai and Dylan, playing Rock Band or talking about politics and religion. Hanging out with a bunch of guys. That was fun.

I'll let you know when it happens. Whatever it is. Until then...

Shalom!

Bloggity Blog

Note: This entry is best read in a strong Southern accent.

It has been weeks, nay, months, since I took the time to express myself through this medium. I have been distracted, immersed, engrossed, occupied, and preoccupied with all manner of academic and work force enterprises. I have been overcome with the pleasant laziness of summer afternoons and become indifferent to the needs of my eager readers. But now I arouse myself from the slumber of lackadaisical indolence and resolve to be more diligent with my writings.

I resolve to do a lot of things. I resolve to walk every evening when the sun is just setting and the hot summer day is just cooling down and lose myself in the high blue open ocean that is the twilight sky. I resolve to eat better, to choose the healthier food if I find the need to snack. I resolve to be more productive with my time, even if it's just to write a few thoughts here and a few thoughts there in this little forum. I resolve to reach out to those I love, to spend more time with them and to never hold back the quality of my affections. I resolve to be more alive.

So here's hoping this is the start of a new era in blogging.