Hero complex

I'm sorry I didn't update yesterday. I wasn't doing anything in particular. I just wanted to spend some time by the window. It was far too hot to move and I fell asleep in the chair like some old lady napping after lunch only to be awakened by a cool breeze. Huzzah. Finally! So, I got up and...continued to do nothing.

Saturday at Funtown Splashtown was nothing as I anticipated because I never made it. On my way to that pee pool park, I got a call. A friend was out in his new boat and the outboard was all aflutter. After pulling over on the side of the highway and making a big frowny face, I turned around, swung into Bamforth Marine, grabbed some supplies, and headed to Popham where they had picked up a mooring. SeaTow was on the scene--when are they not on the scene when someone has boat trouble--and I waited by Fort Popham while they sussed it out.

Friend's outboard fixed, yay! Friend's outboard not fixed, boo! It definitely needed to go back to the shop. For various reasons, I ended up in the boat getting dragged back to Bath where this guy keeps his vessel. That's not really worth talking about--when your new boat runs into trouble, you don't want to talk about it and you don't want other people to talk about it. You just want it fixed, which I suspect is happening right now. And getting towed--even when you're blameless--is worse than any early-morning walk of shame through the dorm.

But, the ride up the river was super interesting. We were moving at a pace only slightly faster than sailing and it made me remember why I love to sail. And it made me remember why I hate to sail. The view is excellent and the sound of water on the hull is soothing, but damn is it slow. Granted, when you're sailing, you're screwing around with lines and perfecting the sail trim (heh-heh I said trim and I can't find the "48 Hours" clip where Eddie Murphy uses that word so perfectly so I'll give you this one instead) and rigging something or tying something or fixing something. When you're getting towed? You just sort of sit there, or if you're the guy who owns the boat, you just sort of sit there and wonder how an outboard with only 35 hours on it could fail. Still, a bad day on a boat is better than a good day at....yadda yadda yadda--click this at your own risk. It goes from awesome to...oh...no... pretty quickly.

Sadly, the only form of exercise this weekend came in the form of swatting greenheads. I did kill about 25 of the little f*ckers, but that doesn't really count for an actual activity. Or does it?

After a couple of days of hot, sweaty, no exercise blah, I've given it some thought, and I should do what normal people do when they want to get some exercise. Ugh. I think I need to join the local gym. I hate going to the gym with the TVs blaring in my face and that guy with the super abs and that woman who seems to know everybody and wants to know who I am and where I live. But I would benefit from a stationary bike while I wait for my ankle to settle down. And, they offer core classes and strengthening classes. Oh my god, I'm having palpitations just thinking about it. I joined the Y when I was living in Portland and liked it; I would visit the gym all the time. But, it was a big Y and I never saw anyone I knew and I didn't have to chat with people. Plus it was easy because I lived within walking distance--yeah, I didn't live in a great part of town.

Not that the Y is generally in a bad part of town. It's just that the Portland Y used to be in what was considered a bad part of town.

So, there we have it. I'm joining the gym if I can work it into our budget. As you may or may not know or may or may not have gleaned from reading this blog, we are remodeling our kitchen, my car has died, and I'm trying to watch my spending. But, I can justify this expense far easier than I can justify spending an evening drinking martinis. It would cost about the same.

If you're not a gym goer, and you're reading this, please wish me luck; I'll keep you posted on all the demoralizing shenanigans. If you are a gym goer, and you're reading this and have been thinking "Why doesn't she just join the gym??" then shut up. Fine. I'm doing it.

faster than a speeding greenhead

It's just that I do prefer sitting quietly in my little Fortress of Solitude and I come out of that experience feeling similar to how I feel after getting some exercise. Sadly, as I sit quietly building my inner strength, my Kryptonite is graphic novels and The Office reruns. I can spend all day in my favorite chair, flipping between Adrian Tomine and Ricky Gervais clips. But, now that I think of it, Kryptonite, as a particle from his home planet, renders Superman human, right? So, if A = B and B = C, then my dorky desire to sit alone with a bunch of weird dorky entertainment just makes me human. That, or it's possible I think I'm Superman. I don't know. Rescuing a friend? Destroying a bunch of enemy greenheads so they cause no harm to others? That sounds sort of hero-ish to me.

I do wish a desire to eat vegetables and run marathons is what made me human, but I guess those desires are what would make me Superman after all. Must rebuild my fortress.