Today I lifted weights for the first time in quite a while. Lifting weights is great! I always forget. It's been so long that the squats gave me jelly-legs. Combined with my sore back from paddling yesterday, going down stairs was interesting; I was bent over like an old woman and stumbling like a drunk, and grinning like an idiot, because while it makes me look like a palsy case it makes me feel fabulous I guess.

So yay, more weights for me. I think this was all inspired by the kids-books-about-knights I am reading, about girls who sneak off to knight school. Damn, I think, if some ten year old can suck it up and learn sword fighting and archery and run around all day, I can get out of bed and do something, eh? Yes, fictional children are shaming me in to action. Sometimes I think I might be happiest in the army, except for the moving away from my family part. And well the moral ambiguity and death and everything. These fantasy-land knights have great objectively evil villainzzZ to fight which the canadian forces I feel do not. Maybe if there were the magical peace scouts, who train hard, feed the hungry in beirut, right wrongs in indonesia, and sleep every night in their own beds in vancouver. But anyway, working in a ridiculously structured environment which includes a painful physical fitness regime, I expect I'd flourish.

It all sounds kind of like elementary school: not content with As in everything else, I bashed my head against the team sports wall over and over. Joined every team and was miserable, last place, in every sport. Oh well. Only recently am I coming to grips with the fact that my strength is my head and it will never be my body, my body is not even fucking an also-ran, my body is somewhere going backwards in the wrong arena. It's a painful thing to realize. I can keep fit and everything, but on some level I am convinced that if I just TRY harder I will be an athlete. Of course I won't. Getting strong enough to open jars and pick up my boyfriend is about tops, and really both those things are cheating. I think most girls can open jars and lift up hundreds of pounds if they put an effort in to it; boy says he figures most of me seeming strong is that I am always willing to try to pick something up. Sure I will carry a hundred pounds! I think I'm strong so I am. Well anyway, it's something.

Ramble, ramble, ramble. Time to make my lunch.

I played guitar today too for the first time in a long while. These things just seem to get washed away by school. I think that's the best argument for living forever (when love must diiiiieeeee, thank you queen) - you'd have time to spend 20 years just specializing in things without worrying about getting everything else done too. Life is so short. You have to be an air-traffic controller to get even a tiny fraction of the interesting things done.

I think I'm not making sense anymore. Lunch.