cardiovascular songwriting

it's been quite some time since i've posted.  partially i was really busy...no lie...but if you ask coach kim,  she'll say it's because i'm lazy.  

see, kim is training for a marathon with her boyfriend and the piddly 4 or 5 miles i cant be bothered to run because im "lazy" have now become warm-up for her 22 mile training runs and she likes to bust me for it.  but, let's be fair...kim and i were at the yardhouse the other night sampling the plethora of beers on tap and when she called me lazy for not going running everyday like i used to she immediately took it back when she realized that i would be grossly offended at the notion of sitting around my house all day doing nothing.  this is a vicious lie.  i hate doing nothing.   actually, i think i have undiagnosed adult a.d.d. and i cant sit around for any extended period of time without doing something.  if i am sitting, im usually reading...or muddling about with the mysteries of the universe in my head.  

lately, im playing my guitar.  it went long neglected last year when i had to take an hour out of my day everyday to run halfway across town and back.  so im writing songs and kim runs.  

if i called kim lazy for not writing songs im sure she'd look at me as if id just said she was lazy for not finding the cure for cancer.  kim doesn't play an instrument...unless those electronic drums that come with the rockband game count.  so of course i would be a fool if i gave her crap for not songwriting.  she doesnt write songs.  never has.  i dont even think she has a desire to.  her boyfriend has a guitar, but i dont think he wants to write a song either.  so maybe it's not fair, but i just want to say, "hey, its not my fault you dont have as many hobbies as me!  its easy to make time for running when its all you do!  but i have many interests, high and lofty interests that extend beyond the physical realm and it is necessary that i spend time cultivating them."  but i think that might be ever so slightly arrogant, and i like kim, so i don't say this even though i think it.

i like to think of myself as someone able to multitask.  i can get a lot of stuff done in my 16-18 waking hours.  i do two or three loads of laundry while doing paperwork.  i carry on 5 conversations via text while teaching class.  but i dont think i could manage cardiovascular songwriting.  but it might be a good experiment for when the weather gets warmer.  rockstars walk and jump and participate in all kinds of aerobic activities with their guitars on stage that get them all sweaty and out of breath, so im sure running in a straight line while playing wouldnt be very difficult.  you wouldnt have to bother with a microphone because it could be a live acoustic set and i dont know how much of an audience  a running performer would attract anyways.  the idea of having to move down the street with the artist might discourage attendance.  

now, that scenario is all well and good for playing songs i already know, but what about writing a new one?  the pen and paper become a problem.  the issue of a hard writing surface could be remedied easily with a clipboard, but writing and running and playing seem like too much.  you dont have enough hands.  

unless you employ a jogging scribe.  someone to run with you and write as you dictate lyrics to them.  it would be tricky, but it could work.   the writer runs and plays while the scribe...well...scribes.  kim will be in good shape by the spring with her marathon training and all so she'd make a good scribe except that her handwriting is pretty rough.  so i suppose as long as she typed it out for me after the run, itd be all right. 

and this way i could run and kim could write songs.

iwant itunes...

this summer i went to europe with a couple friends of mine.  i had a total blast, but (as happens when you go to a continent that essentially uses the US dollar as toilet paper) i came back broke. before going on this trip, i scrimped and saved for an entire year.  i rode my bike and walked to work...i ate an ungodly amount of leftovers...i never set foot within 100 yards of a mall.  but for all that hard work, i still came home in the hole.  kim and i had big plans for the first paycheck i would receive upon my return to the glorious life that is substitute teaching: we were gonna go to huntington beach an blow every dime on clothes and alcohol.  we might be drunk and broke again, but it would remind us of being in madrid together and at least we'd look hella good...

my other friend, sara, knew about my plan and a month ago asked if i ever went to california like i had planned...did i blow my first check like i had wanted to?  i told her yeah, on my health insurance.  the blue cross/blue shield got every last dime....them and the sprint company.  blew the entire wad in one shot.  it was almost as satisfying as taking a road trip...almost.

bright side: im finally operating in the black...a few hundred dollars in the black but hey....black is black and black is not red so i am no longer an incredibly stressed out individual.  owing people money sends me into a panic.  if i was buying a house, i'd rather sell my kidney on the black market than ask any bank for a loan to cover the down payment.  needless to say i have the most amazing credit score you've ever seen.  

so im in the black, but im living like im in the red....just for a few months until im not just a few hundred in the black, but a couple thousand.  a few hundred in the black is like being two thousand in the red as far as im concerned.  call me anal, but its how i roll.  

needless to say, i dont buy anything i dont have to.  i dont go out with friends, i dont go shopping, i live off whatever scraps my parents dont eat....even putting gas in my car (a necessary obligation that i should be ok with) hurts me inside.  especially since i just found out that my bike tire is leaking air and i cant ride it until i patch the hole...a task i have no idea how to do and probably have to buy something overpriced to complete.  

if money was an animated being with cognitive abilities and emotions, i would give it a big fat middle finger and tell it to go to hell...we dont need it...we could go back to the barter system and be just fine.  

this is especially true today because i am sitting at a frigidly cold coffee shop, writing and listening to my itunes and was overwhelmed with a mood-altering realization: i am completely sick of my music (exceptions made, obviously, for the dave matthews band, iron and wine, and sara mclachlan).  i want to buy the tegan and sara album ive put off buying for a year, everything ever produced by the frames, and the drastic fantastic album by kt tunstall.  but nooooo....i only have $400 in the bank and the bills will show up in my mailbox by the end of the month.  iwant itunes and i cant have them because the european economy's sole mission in life is to suck the joy out of america's youth by charging them 15 dollars for a crummy baguette and twice as much for a rubbish hostel room in the summer than in january.  

it's unethical and i'm thinking of writing a very strongly worded letter to the leader of the european union.

hot sauce...

i came home from volleyball practice today feeling like i hadn't eaten in a week.  last season, because we had a low number on the team, i would have to step in at practice and play to run the 6 on 6 drills we need to imitate game-like circumstances.  but this year, because we have 15 solid athletes, i have become the most amazing ball-tossing drill-facilitator you've ever seen.   i do a lot of standing and watching...i toss a ball from time to time...it's pretty amazing.  but today, my services were needed on the court and so i ran the set on my side of the net.  

no problem...i'm in decent shape...not decent "volleyball shape" mind you (being in shape and being in "volleyball shape" are two very different things, but that's another story for another blog)...but i could run around without feeling like i was going to die and actually put the ball where it needed to be most of the time.  but by the time practice was over i was soaked through....saturated in my own sweat. because of this year's budget cuts, the air in the gym is not turned on over the weekends.  so that means on any given saturday, in one gym there are three teams running around playing volleyball.  this roughly equates to 45 sweaty kids and one stand-in coach contributing their body heat to the already stifling conditions.  

i was sweaty and gross and starving.  i had eaten a bagel that morning, but had not anticipated playing volleyball for an hour and a half.  if i do anything that requires more energy than sitting in front of my computer, i need protein....lots of protein.  i burned through my bagel before the girls had even set up the net.  i was running on fumes by the time i had finished practice and hurried home to cook myself lunch.

if i'd had a 9 oz filet in my fridge, i'd have eaten that raw, but im broke so i ate the poor man's protein...eggs.  as i was finishing them up, i poured some hot sauce over top while they were still in the pan.  the salsa had been in the fridge and was cold...nothing puts a damper on having breakfast for lunch like cold salsa making hot eggs lukewarm.  so i thought i'd heat it up.  but as i lifted the pan to slide my salsa laden eggs onto the plate some of the sauce dripped off the top of the egg, slid onto the frying pan surface, and immediately shot into my eye.  i popped off some four letter words as the spicy projectile liquid singed my cornea and immediately rushed over to the sink to flush it out.  it burned something fierce and i wondered if my vision would finally be impaired...by hot sauce of all things. if it was, would i get to wear an eye patch?

the best part of this entire scenario was that my mom was 15 feet away, so engrossed in whatever she was doing on the computer that she never noticed that pace  picante had become airborne and was searing my retina.  i could be blinded right now and she'd have been reading her emails.