Staying within yourself

There are times when you know you should not try to overreach. No, I don't mean to say that one shouldn't try new things. I am all for challenging yourself. But there are times when you must realize you limitations.

Currently, I am teaching a buttload of classes, but I need to do research. My career depends on it. So I need to make time--stay away from Xanga (its not as though I've been spending a lot of time here anyway), turn off the TV (this would actually be big deal), no more football (blasphemy!). Since teaching fewer classes is not really an option for me, I need to cut time elsewhere. It is sad that I will ultimately deny myself leisure time, but I suppose that is the life of an academic coolie--I used this word in class the other day and was shocked that most of the class did not know what it meant! Can you imagine that?

But anyway, I need to realize my limitations and stay within the bounds of what I am able to do. I was reminded of this when I went to the Facebook of a Xanga acquaintance --I found out only recently (like yesterday) that SJ now lives near me and occupies the same campus as I do! Dude, and you don't even try to contact me?!? I found this out when I visited his Facebook. But I was even more surprised at his ability to wield an aritistic mouse. There is a Facebook app called Gaffiti that I have on my page where I have drawn a self-portrait of sorts. As you can see, it is quite rudimentary, but I was proud nonetheless that I could even draw a straigh line... well sorta.

But before I patted myself on the back, I should have seen what others can do. And apparently they can do a lot. Take SJ. When I went to his page, I saw this rendition of himself. Oh man! He doesn't only draw himself, he draws himself drawing himself wih Graffiti! And even that drawing of himself drawn by the caricature of himself that SJ drew is better than mine. (I think I'm getting confused.) Okay, I give up. I mean, I know this is not a competition, but you win. Okay? Oh by the way, I just borrowed your picture to make a point. Hope you don't mind.

* Actually, I already got permission.

0:53, 4.37

Embarrassed

Everything I think about these days seems to be related to aging. Even the things I don't want to think about are age related. Like my memory. I used to drop gingko biloba regularly but stopped this past summer as I had concluded that it didn't really help me--I would forget to do what M told me to do, or I would not be able locate my baseball cap. What I hadn't counted on was that, perhaps, the gingko biloba was actually working and my powers of memory was actually worse.

I was on Facebook, poking around the RBJ group and noticed someone I thought I might know on Xanga. As she--and most of us--prefer to remain anonymous, I thought I recognized through her location history. But I wasn't sure. I thought I'd friend her but decided to confirm her identity first. I wouldn't want her to think I'm a stalker...

Onigiriman: Hi, Are you Enygma? I'm Onigiriman. :) Of course, you may already know that. :P

Enygma: Yes.
Wait, when we messaged each other several months ago, did you think I was a complete stranger?

Oooops! (@_@;)

Oh brother. She's right of course; she did message me. And I did NOT think she was a complete stranger back then. But for the moment, I had forgotten. I guess, had I bothered to think about it, maybe look in my inbox for previous mesages, I would have saved myself the embarrassment. But nooooooo. I decided to confirm as to save both of us some embarrassment, but ended up just embarrassing myself.

Now where did I stash that gingko?

1:30, 7.26

Xanga

It's been a while since I've really posted more than a post or two. I am really surprised how much Xanga has changed! What is going on here. I was visiting some sites and noticed that many of them looked quite different. Then I realized that there's this "Theme" thing that helps design the Xanga site. The look of my site hasn't changed in quite a while. Indeed, it's been your basic white page with black letters since... forever. So maybe I should change. But there's something that bugs me about changing just for the sake of changing.

Anyone have any opinion? Should I change the look of my site?

BTW: There's also a protected post too...

Still exercising

I realize that I haven't been posting. I get the feeling that I just don't have that much to say these days. Is it me? Is it my life? Actually, these are essentially the same, aren't they. In any event, as I stated over a month ago--that would be exactly two posts ago--I am trying to bring my energy level back up by exercising.

I wrote previously that I have lost almost ten pounds. Well, I've stopped lifting weights as that doesn't allow me to loss the weight that quickly. I know, I know. Lifting weights to tone the body is good, but watching the numbers on the scale go down is quite motivating, so I've stopped. When I started on the health kick, I weighed a hefty 178 pounds--pretty chunky for 5'6". Yes, I'm short. They don't call me Mr. Miyagi for nothing. It was the most I had ever weighed in my life. I had reached 175 before, but that was virtually with no muscles. Not that I have a lot of muscles now, but about 15 years ago I had never worked out with weights, had done little manual labor in my life, and was a pretty sorry (read: blubbery) sight.

After working out on the treadmill last Friday, I got on the scales and was gratified to see that I had broken 160 pounds. Yes, the meter read: 159.5! Woo hoo! Of course, it was right after running for 90 minutes, and predictably I was back above 160 the next day--162 to be exact--but it felt good nonetheless.

0:30, 2.43

Early Halloween...

I leave campus a little after 7 PM most days, take the Metro train to the last stop on the Orange line and walk home from the station around 8 PM. I used to take a short cut that went past a parking structure, then beneath an overpass that finally led to a small community of townhouses that is just across the street from where I live. But about ten months ago, I began to notice the unmistakably pungent odor of piss as I walked beneath the overpass. A few days later, I saw a dirty sock on the path. I casually looked around and then up, and dangling from the three-foot vertical space between the overpass and the concrete buttress, was a filthy, moldy-looking blanket.

From all appearances, somebody was sleeping up there. It kinda freaked me out. Perhaps it was just a harmless homeless person, but the thought that someone could be up there looking down at me and any other passers-by was unsettling. So I started taking the normal route home along the main road on the north side of the station.

But last week Wednesday, I decided to take the short cut again. I don't know, it just struck me as the thing to do. So I went past the parking structure, beneath the underpass and was almost through the townhouse community. I turned the corner before crossing the street to my house, when suddenly I felt someone kick my heels from behind.

Bump, bump.

What the... and for a moment, I thought Musubichan had been waiting for me at the station, shadowed me on my way home and tried to scare me. The fraction of a second it took me to come up with that scenario and then whirl around wasn't long enough for me realize that she had never before waited at the station for me unannounced. But even if I had realized that, it would not have prepared me for what I saw.

No one.

What?!? I looked around and there was not a soul. There are invariably three or four other commuters who use the same shortcut from the station, but there were none that night. So I looked at me feet. Maybe I stepped on something that flung up and hit the back of my shoes, but again there was nothing. Oh man. I stood at the corner waiting for a couple of cars to pass before I crossed the street. Whatever it was, will it kick me again, sending me forward in front of the oncoming cars? I stepped away from the curb and looked back at the area I felt my heels being kicked. I was starting to get paranoid. When the cars drove by, I ran across the street and practically dove into the safety of my own home.

I still don't know what happened that night. I have tried to think of a variety of reasons as to why I might have felt something bumping my heels, but I can't come up with a reasonable explanation. Can you?

1:30, 7.25