Two more days, and I've beaten my record. Wouldn't it be delightful if I didn't write tomorrow, or the next day? I'm almost tempted to not write, just as a . . .
No, that doesn't hurt anybody but myself. And what kind of point would that even make?
That reminds me of something I said this week on here: I made a sort of joking reference to running a marathon, after my nightly jog. It's because last month somebody was talking about training for a marathon in September, and I felt super inadequate because I would never be able to do something like that. Driving home today, I saw a sign for a marathon in June and suddenly, it struck me: a marathon is twenty-six miles. Twenty-six miles.
In other words, let's say I ran a mile every day in February except for on the Jewish sabbath. All that together would not equal what a marathon is.
Even half a marathon is thirteen miles, and dude, unless you're Bria Burton that's just some bullshit right there. I hate myself more than anybody else I know hates themselves, and I would never do that to myself. I had a friend who once stuck a safety pin in his . . . his, uh, rutabaga, just so he could say that he knew what that felt like, and that seems more normal and more healthy than punishing your body for twenty-six miles. So, no, I apologize for making that joke. It was in poor taste. There's not enough hate in my body for me to wish that on someone.
And sorry about your rutabaga.
I published another episode of "The Twilight Groan" last night. I believe there are nine episodes 'Thex and I have done together. I wonder if I should create a webpage for that show, the same way Big Anklevich created a page for the Rish Outcast, many years ago. Big, what was that site for, again, so that a feed would link to it?
In other news, the whole state of Texas (where Big lives and is an essential employee) went on lock-down, or house-arrest, or whatever the schlontz they call it today. I guess we'll be locked down soon. In anticipation of that, I drove up to the canyon again today. It was the same road I took to visit the frozen waterfall a month ago, but everything has melted since then (when I woke up this morning there was snow on the ground, so I thought it might be a pretty time to visit it again), so I took the next exit after the falls and thought I'd walk down to them instead of up like I did last time.
But to my surprise, the hiking trail is now open, and I decided to explore that first/instead. There were a few people up there, here and there, but I get the impression they are like me, and are hesitant to gather or be where others are congregating. I don't want to get sick or get anybody sick, or even look like I'm cavalier about it (although time will tell if I look back at going up to the canyon during a pandemic as dangerously irresponsible or unarguably harmless.
It was unbelievably overcast and grey, with low clouds that made everything look almost black and white.
The hiking trail split in both directions, and I chose the road less traveled (by which I mean, there was a big paved trail/road where you could ride a bike or jog side-by-side with your best gal, and another meandering dirt track that BARELY fit a single person walking by themselves), which would have made all the difference if I had slipped and fallen at some point. Like I said, there were people around, but not enough to mock me for setting up my camera and singing a Storage Unit song, or coming to my rescue if I were injured and calling for help.
But it was kind of a beautiful trail, that went up on the mountain, and might have eventually come out alongside the waterfall, where climbers meet their demise pretty much every single year up there. I didn't find out how far it went, because I found a handy spot that overlooked the canyon road and watched cars (and a dubious amount of semi trucks) whiz by, and tried to sing a song to post on this blog, in a month or so from now, when we're hopefully all recovering from the Coronavirus epidemic.
I also took this one, in case you think I'm not geeky enough.
I often hear songs on the radio and think, "Oh, I should do that one," but when I actually go to the storage unit, I can't remember what they are, or if I do, I can't remember all the words. It's really quite embarrassing to not be able to sing as well as I thought I could. What I need to do is make a list of songs that I have in my car, and print out the lyrics to a couple, so I can at least go over them before I look so foolish and/or have to do a bunch of takes because I can't remember how the song goes.
But hey, like Sarah's coworker in THE TERMINATOR told her, "In a hundred years, who's gonna care?"
I did get some writing and editing done today, most of it after I'd come down from my mountain walk. The snow had melted into rain, and there was some mud, but for the most part, the weather was fine (low forties, but I had a coat). I sat in the car for a half an hour and wrote a bit more on "Meet the New Clerk," but I just haven't reached the confrontation point yet. If I'd just sit down and force myself to do it, we'd find out what's the deal with this particularly mean-spirited spirit.
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| I like the shadows here. It's how I look best. |
Words Today: 1764
March Words: 34,787
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