On Thursday I went to the Birdhouse to bother my neighbors. After reading some of Banks's Use of Weapons and playing some Bioshock it was high-time to head out, pick up maribou, go to the downtown library and pick up dinner at Chipotle.
Jaybird orbitted the block while maribou and I did the ordering and stuff. As I was paying I noticed someone had left a walkman on the counter by the cash register. I figured someone left it there or it belonged to the staff and thought nothing of it. After waiting outside, maribou finally caught up and we were going to get in the car when some guy runs out of Chipotle holding an iPod. Yeah, I'm old and out of touch and thought the iPod was a walkman.
"Is this your iPod?" he panted at me.
"Uh, nope." I looked at his hand and saw that the screen was brightly lit. This was tempting since I like shiny things that light up in the dark.
"Is this your iPod?" he asked maribou. She answered in the negative and walked around me to get in the back seat. He looked at me again and I shrugged and said, "Oh yeah. That's mine." He grinned and said "Nice try" and went back in.
For the rest of the night I was contemplating this situation. Instinct kept telling me that I was being tested by fortune and it would weigh upon any future decisions. Should I feel guilty for deciding to claim, after the fact, that the device was my own? Would fortune turn against me? In short my instincts and the thoughts arising from the hindbrain felt a lot like religion.
Religion is submission. Muslims have it right yet they think it's a Good Thing ™ to submit to their god's will. I dislike the concept of submission because it's akin to obedience which is the denial of choice. At my job I choose to continue working there and be paid not to choose or assess any criticisms. I create my own luck and whatever that may come via fortune. This is something very hard for me to believe and follow in my life so I am not called a hypocrite.
With a few days between that incident and Saturday night it doesn't bother me that much. Plus I really don't want an iPod. Heck if I did take it then I'd feel bad thinking the loss of the device would make someone imitate Mitchell Henderson.
The final phase of training the skill of strength is ten minutes of hell. One has to train for ten minutes doing a single exercise. The past couple of sessions I've been doing swings. I take a 35 pound kettlebell and kick it out with my hips and not using my arms at all. This exercise works the whole body. Anyway in ten minutes of hell one does as many reps of the exercise as one can perform then rest for the remainder of that minute.
Towards the end Cassius kept saying that I was doing it wrong. Upon the completion of the final set he tried to get Jaybird to spar with him. Cassius has been training in a fighting technique called Krav Maga and he's disappointed that he never really gets a chance to use it. Jaybird declined but I figured what the hell and sparred with him. Heck I got lucky and got a shot to his nuts! By the time I got home and logged online, I caught up with raddidge but I do not believe she was that thrilled with me declaring that I had engaged in combat sparring.
What matters is that I had fun doing it! Oh yes, I had fun. No, I don't want to study a martial art or any defensive techniques because then it wouldn't be fun. Also using Cassius as an example what's the point of training in something that there's a 90% chance that it will never be used during one's lifetime? Yes I'm being an optimist about humanity right now.
Please understand I don't want to read on my computer. I'd rather have paper. A year's worth of issues too, please.
Reckon the fox knows what he's doing.
When the doors opened elmgrows was waiting for us with a short, dark haired chick with a thick body. She was wearing a tight orange shirt that she really, really shouldn't have worn because she didn't have the body despite her rack. That's when I realized this wasn't Mrs. elmgrows and that elmgrows had a bit of tail on the side and the down-low. As introductions were being bandied about I kept saying that elmgrows's mistress was named Danielle. Every time I said her name, she'd say her name but very softly that it'd be drowned out by my voice. Kinda like one of the final scenes in The Neverending Story where Bastian has to give the Child-Like Princess a name and he shouts out it into the storm and can't be made out by the audience. Even stranger Jaybird and maribou heard her real name and maribou kept giving me dirty, angry looks for saying that elmgrows's mistress was named Danielle.
Once we got to the room everyone but me went into the bathroom to slip into something a bit more comfortable. I walked over to the window and opened the curtains to look out at the city. Below me was the backyard of the house where I have my apartment. Must've been springtime because the lawn was green and thick, the tree was full of leaves and the strength of the sunlight playing over the scene. The Birds, elmgrows and Danielle never came back and I never left the room.
