Making Music, Counting Calories & Lazy Teenage Superheroes

I lied, no 2nd post last night. Bad Ena!

BUT… I had good reason!

After picking someone up from the airport then rushing to the gym to get in my daily workout, I moseyed over to my rockin’ friend Johnny’s apartment to finally hang out and officially meet his lovely lady, Lindy. By the time I got to his place it was 11:40pm and I was wayyy late.

So much fun though. We basically kicked back, busted out the guitars and jammed to our heart’s content. I’m determined to make Johnny start a band with me AND teach me guitar because he’s just cool like that. He attempted to teach me and Lindy (on piano) one of his new songs but my lack of guitar skills stifled me. How hot would it be though with a lady on keys, a lady on guitar and awesome to the max J on lead? SUPER HOT. Like H-A-W-T, kind of hot. Like in your face, oh-so-sexy, scorching as the sun, hot. Yeah… REALLY HOT.

We eventually had to put down the instruments and head over to another friend’s sick loft in downtown LA. Every unit seriously looks like a private eye’s office. I kind of want to bust out my 1950s outfits, knock on his door at the midnight hour with claims of a missing husband/fiancé/boyfriend/whathaveyou. I would totally want to live there if the neighborhood weren’t so shady. When we arrived there were firemen busting into his building. Kind of a hilarious coincidence.

We stayed until around 4:30 when we realized it was way past our bedtimes and headed home. Since I didn’t get back to my place until 5am, I slept in this morning. It was something kind of wonderful to lounge in bed until 11.

My brother is in town visiting from Davis so we decided to head to Barnes & Noble to get some coffee and maybe a few new books. While there I stopped by the diet and exercise section where I decided to bite the bullet and listen to my friends who keep telling me I really need to start counting calories for my workouts to be effective.

I bought two books, The Pocket Calorie Counter and the Abs Diet for Women which breaks down the proper amount of protein/fiber/etc. I should really be eating every day. I know there are sites for this like the bodybuilding.com site I mentioned a few posts ago, but I stick to things so much better if I have it in hardcopy form right in front of me. It’s harder to ignore I guess. In any case, after reading the beginnings of The Pocket Calorie Counter, I realized I’m probably eating a LOT LESS calories than I need to be (which can partly be blamed on work) which is actually hindering my ability to lose weight since my body counters the lack of caloric energy by storing more fat.

After sitting and doing all the math in my new little food journal (I love moleskin and actually writing out math equations because I’m a nerd) I need to be eating 1771.32 calories per day to maintain my weight. To lose 1 lb. a week I need to cut out 500 calories per day or work off 500 or better yet a combination of the two which means I’ll be cutting my caloric intake to about 1250 calories a day (give or take depending on my workout). I’m also starting a food journal to make sure I eat enough a day. Just thinking about my intake on Friday and Saturday, I was under 1200 on both days which is just sad.

So calorie counting. Wish me luck and here I go!

But before I do, I leave you with the Lazy Teenage Superheroes: an extremely funny & well-executed short film made by Michael Ashton for only $300. There’s cussing, vulgarity, ninjas and herpes jokes. Yeah… thank me later.

Oafish Laughter

I tend to avoid hearing recordings of myself speak.

In my head, I imagine sounding polished, my voice just the right amount of smoothness & depth, with a bit of elegance to my accent. In reality, my voice is much higher pitched than I’d prefer [it reaches the point of shrill at times] & every so often that old valley accent that I attempted to correct long ago is resurrected without my knowledge [usually at high points of excitement].

What I dread to hear all the more are recordings of my laughter. Some of my friends, in their polite fashion, have told me that my laughter is delightful and infectious [probably because they’re laughing AT me] but let’s be honest: I guffaw. I cackle. When I laugh, it’s usually so hard that my entire body is affected by it: head back, shoulder’s shaking, foot stomping the ground and hands clapping. Lord, I must look like a fool when I laugh. An oaf, so to speak.

Case in point: a video my cousins and I made one day after the gym when we were in a goofy sort of mood [disclaimer: I look like an absolute idiot for 99.9% of this vid but I’m totally ok with that]—

Despite this known fact, I can’t help but laugh all the time [much to the dismay of the people around me]. Laughing is simply one of my favorite things to do—especially when I laugh at myself. In fact, I need to be able to! I fall a lot and sometimes catch myself saying the most idiotic things. If I took myself too seriously, I would have an extremely low sense of self [I don’t].

So, shrill voice and oafish laughter aside, I kind of like myself a whole lot. Which is a good thing…

I think.

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Tweets, Signs & Ironies

I was taking a nap earlier today—my gulay, I love naps—& woke up to this tweet from my cousin:

@darlingrose lmao @enanic RT @Sexstrology: #Virgo’s are melodramatic hypochondriacs. When they get sick OMG the world is ending.

I nearly fell off the couch laughing because I had just gone through the following conversation in my head:

*groannn* Ughhh, my eye hurts. My head hurts… *uggghh* my body hurts. *sob sob* Why me???

[picks up cellphone] Hmm… I wonder who tweeted me?

HAHAHA…

Which then, of course, became really loud laughter causing my aunt who was sitting near me to think I was slightly deranged. It was just what I needed to stop feeling sorry myself.

I really am sick though.

I’ve spent the better part of the last two days trying to sleep away whatever weird flu I caught that fell on top of me like a purple hippo out of the sky [I know that’s a weird analogy, but it’s what popped in my head]. But in all seriousness, it came from out of nowhere and I just want it to go away. If you know me at all, you know I hate going to the doctor and avoid those visits like the plague.

Ironic, huh? But wait… or is it?

End Tangent.

Anyway, I’m finally going. My eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull. Of course it has to be the black eye that is causing me all this hassle. I’m pretty sure my mom has now convinced herself that it is a direct result of the mugging and is harassing me on the daily to go to the doctor along with my aunt, and friends and other family members. But no complaints! It’s nice to be that loved, lol…

On another tangent, I am still a Virgo.

Everyone is in a hooplah about their “new sign” because of Ophiuchus, the 13th zodiac, but PEOPLE: that’s actually nothing new. Funny, I was having this conversation with my friend Johnny a few weeks ago about astrology and he was telling me that the Western zodiac has always been wrong because they follow tropical seasons, unlike the sidereal zodiac [or I guess Eastern zodiac] which follows the constellations. And no, it’s not like he’s super smart [well he is, just not about this], his girl from Thailand who follows the sidereal zodiac told him all about it. Well, I don’t think either is wrong and neither does Susan Miller, so take that naysayers. You negative nancys probably don’t put too much weight in astrology anyway. [Not that I do either, but they are mighty fun to read and if the above tweet shows anything, can sometimes hit the nail right on its head.]

If you don’t believe me, read this article from CNN which explains it far better than I do: No, your zodiac sign hasn’t changed.

That’s my lesson for the day. Don’t believe everything you read, unless you read it here [jk].

Goodnight, lovelies. See you when the sun rises.

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She

I’ve always loved this passage. An old friend once surprised me with a package and tucked into the parcel was a handwritten note saying that it was a piece which in every respect was a true description of who I represented in his life.

I will forever be flattered.

She will have none of that. She is quick, mercurial, intemperate. She has a big mouth, a rash heart, a generous nature (always a liability, in my view), and if my way is always to opt out, to sit in the window seat with a book in my lap, pressing my face against the pane, then her great weakness, indistinguishable from her great strength, is a fatal, manic aptitude for saying yes. She gets herself and us, and me into trouble: into noble causes and silly disputes… into journeys and strange hotel beds and awkward situations, into putting my money where my mouth is and my name on fund-raising pitch letters for things that I believe in but otherwise, I don’t know, haven’t gotten around to yet. She is the curse and wolfman charm in my blood, calling me to shed my flannel shirt and my pressed pants with their sensible belt and lope on all fours into the forest.

Michael Chabon, Manhood for Amateurs

Paintings by Stella Im Hultberg.

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The Wilderness Downtown

A beautifully executed interactive film directed by Chris Milk and featuring the song “We Used to Wait” by Arcade Fire incorporates your childhood home (or whichever address you’d like) using HTML5 and Google Maps.

The video was made as a Chrome Experiment and the result of including the neighborhood in which you grew up is actually very touching. I don’t want to give away the story line of the short film as it’s narrative is pretty striking but… here is my home:

I used to write,
I used to write letters I used to sign my name
I used to sleep at night
Before the flashing lights settled deep in my brain

But by the time we met
By the time we met the times had already changed

So I never wrote a letter
I never took my true heart I never wrote it down
So when the lights cut out
I was left standing in the wilderness downtown

Now our lives are changing fast
Now our lives are changing fast
Hope that something pure can last
Hope that something pure can last

It seems strange
How we used to wait for letters to arrive
But what’s stranger still
Is how something so small can keep you alive

We used to wait
We used to waste hours just walking around
We used to wait
All those wasted lives in the wilderness downtown

We used to wait
We used to wait
We used to wait
Sometimes it never came
We used to wait
Sometimes it never came
We used to wait
Still moving through the pain

I’m gonna write a letter to my true love
I’m gonna sign my name
Like a patient on a table
I wanna walk again gonna move through the pain

Now our lives are changing fast
Now our lives are changing fast
Hope that something pure can last
Hope that something pure can last

We used to wait
We used to wait
We used to wait
Sometimes it never came
We used to wait
Sometimes it never came
We used to wait
Still moving through the pain

We used to wait
We used to wait
We used to wait

We used to wait for it
We used to wait for it
Now we’re screaming sing the chorus again
We used to wait for it
We used to wait for it
Now we’re screaming sing the chorus again

I used to wait for it
I used to wait for it
Hear my voice screaming sing the chorus again