Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Excessiveness and Paying the Piper

Push, Push, Push
I tend to push myself. At school, at work, at play, however and where ever.
I think it stems from-as so many things do in our lives-my childhood.
Learning that I would have to claw my way out of unfortunate circumstances. An amazingly astute and forward thinking Mother taught me very early on that an education, and commitment would be the tools to not only escaping poverty, but any of lifes hardened challenges.
And so I push.
Always had to get good marks at school, so I could earn a schlorship-
Perform above and beyond at work, to conquer the fear of me or my family being homeless again.
Excessive performance in all things-
and sometimes that falls over into my play time as well.

Ended up at Kitty's on Friday-had a fun time-met some new people-overall just a nice, casual, drama-free evening. Met a nice boy named P, who is far too nice.
He's the type of boy one should meet months after a break up when they are ready for another relationship. He's not the type of boy to just go out and have fun with. He's all puppy dogs and ice cream.
Saturday got up early (prolly first mistake of the weekend) and headed to the gym for my first yoga class. Dr had called the gym and passed on info about my condition to the teacher, and she was wonderfully prepared to show me differnet positions to try based on my abilities. The class was VERY challenging. I think if I had not done yoga while in college, I would have been an even bigger mess. At least I wasn't one of the ones who kept falling over onto the studio floor with a loud 'thunk!' every once and a while. K (the teacher) said she thought I did very well, and has outlined a plan for when and how often I should attend class.
After the class I was supposed to meet J for some weight work-he called and left a message saying he was running late, and I called back saying I would wait for him.
While walking over to get water, one of the TVs caught my attention-it was showing an animal info type show all about marine mammels. Woo Hoo!
So I took a seat on one of the bikes under the TV, and hooked up my head phones to listen as I waited for J to arrive.
I also started peddeling- (likely the second mistake)
An hour or so later, I'm still peddeling, as I watch the aggresive and very UNsexy mating ritual of the elephant seal, and feel one of my knees start to go.
Call J to find out if he is there at the gym yet, and instead ask that we NOT have the weight session today, and instead go to lunch.
J and I have a nice lunch, check in with S for the plans for that night, and then head to Sports Chalet so I can pick up a yoga mat and some weight gloves.
I lose J to the golf section, am shocked at the price of a set of clubs, (no wonder this game is dominated by white males) and pick up some tennis balls for the Flurry.
Call R to get the scoop on his opening tomorrow night, pass on info to J and invite A to join us. Hoping big success and am super proud of R.
S and I head to dinner-enjoying my time with S SO much. Then we head to a new bar (new for me, not for S) and think I have found a new haunt.
Great jukebox, great space, great drinks.
Meet a cute bartender and chat about music and on second round say maybe when he asks for my number.
M and C meet us there, and catch up on how everyones week has been, and talk about last night.
Third round comes over compliments of the bartender.
Deciding where to head to next, C tells us that Deb is at a lesbian birthday party at Cheetah's. He gives her a call and we tidy up. S and M are THRILLED to be going. :)
Pay my tab-forget to give my number to the bartender-head to Cheetah's.
We find the party, order drinks, and grab some singles.
Soon enough S in a stripper sandwich, Deb has money in her mouth and boobs in her face, and M, C, and I are toasting.
We stay at Cheetah's WAY later than expected. (third mistake)
ATM at Cheetah's charges $5 service fee.
S gets a table dance.
S in in love :).
The boys and I decide to visit the LACMA tomorrow to view the Arts and Crafts exhibit.
Everyone heads home.
I fall into bed-put on PoA-fall asleep sometime around, "You tell those spiders!".
8 a.m.
My 'husband' wakes me up to tell me we are leaving in half an hour.
Yep-half and hour.
How much sleep have I had? 4 hours? 5 hours? (mistake #4)
Amazingly am ready to go in the poorly alloted 30 minutes, and even manage to NOT look like I've spent the night in a Penthouse Forum letter.
We drive seperately to a course in Glendale-call S from the car-she's awake, and still in love :)
J and I walk up to the driving range and he gives me some examples on how to strech out before I start swinging.
He looks like a golf dork.
I refuse to do the golf dork stretchy stretchy.
(5 golden mistakes)
He shows me the stance, how to swing, what to do.
I miss the ball.
He corrects me.
I hit the ball about a foot.
He corrects me again.
Hey Hey! The ball goes in the air!
More advice-I hit more balls.
The ball goes further!
The ball is not only arching, but going straight!
Check me out!
I start to get a little cocky.
I say something obnoxious to the ball.
Something loud.
Something like, 'thats what I call spanking!'
J instructs me on polite volume at the driving range.
I take a break, have some on my ever-present Propel, and hit a few more balls.
(see the trend in mistakes?)
J, D, and I head to breakfast at the course.
Their friend B turns up, and is as funny as J figures I would find him.
I tag along for the first round and enjoy some 4-wheel'n action in the golf cart.
The boys offer insight into why they play certain holes certain ways, and explain rules of the game.
B shares with me the special name the gods call him, FuckLush.
I bail after the first half and head to M's to meet him and C for brunch before the museum.
We head to a cafe C has recommended, and wait for a table to free up outside.
I'm starting to feel a LOT of pain in my shoulders.
When both the boys offer me a seat while we wait, I decline.
(add that to the mistake column)
Finally get a table, finally get waited on, finally get some food.
None of us know the answers to the LA Times crossword.
Read the LA Weekly and find out that if we wait a couple of hours, the museum will be free. We decide to kill some time by heading out to the shops on La Brea.
We get to the museum a few minutes early, and decide to have a glass of wine.
I have a GREAT cab that I am sad to say I cannot remember who made.
It was a berry, cocoa, oak blend.
They have no cookies :(
It's cold.
Shoulders are starting to hurt REALLY bad.
Head into the exhibit.
Turns out C and I are both big fans of the Arts and Crafts movement.
It's a wonderful exhibit, filled with great examples of the movement in all aspects of design. Highlights for me are silver work from England, a stained glass cabinet from Ireland, a zoo enclosure from Budapest, an entire dining room (including table service and cutlery) all by a German designer, and all of the Frank Lloyd Wright pieces.
By the end I feel like I am carrying a 50 lb sack on my shoulders.
Back to M's-plans are set when to meet for R's opening, and I head home.
Call the 'husband' and ask if he has eaten, he wants ice cream.
Pick up ice cream, and decide to have a bit of a lie down before getting ready to go out. While laying down I feel one of my shoulders sort of slip, and then goes numb.
I try to sit up, and am in major pain. Lay back down for a few minutes, and try to sit up again. More pain.
S calls and says she is not going.
M calls and says she wants to go and is worried I am not going.
I start to worry for R.
I decide I am going to go, even if only for a very brief time.
Try to get up, and my shoulders are locked. I can't move them. I use my legs and abs to life myself, and feel like I am being stabbed over and over again.
Guilt and hurt make me start to panic and cry.
Somehow I find the cord to my heating pad and inch by inch am able to lace it through my fingers and onto the bed.
I pray that it is plugged in.
The light comes on!
I do a poor harp seal impression and sort of lunber on top of the heating pad.
The pain is getting worse.
I knock over everything on my night stand trying to find some sort of pain pills.
I can't sit up to drink anything, so I chew up some advil and try to remain as still as possible.
Some time later, the phone rings, and I can't reach for it.
Finally the pills, and the heat, offer me some escape, and I fall asleep.
Monday I wake up and am stiff and still hurting, but able at least to move with bearable pain.
I call the Dr and he advises to keep heat on my shoulders, take some more Advil, and to recap everything I did over the weekend.
He also advises me about sleep vs. out put. If I am going to start these new activities, I have to compensate for my body with more sleep and down time.

So I spend yesterday in bed, on a heating pad, with no appetite, and pangs of guilt that I did not attend R's event.
I don't even know how it went, because M has not returned my call.
I figure he is angry that I did not attend :(

Spent last night sleeping on the heating pad again, and awoke today feeling still better.
Now I'm sitting with a microwavable heating pack across my shoulders and trying to figure out what to do next.
Do I go ahead with my social plans for the week, or do I cancel plans and take it easy?
Should I push ahead with my plans, and try to condition my body to handle it all by adding more sleep, or do I forget conditioning and just not go out?


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