T-minus 2 days and 1 hour.

I always say that the workouts at the gym get a little hard when THMFIC goes on vacation. I think he wants us to remember who’s boss while he’s gone. I mean really, the day after Helen we see Tabata burpees? OK, so they weren’t exactly Tabata rounds. 30 seconds of burpees followed by 30 seconds of plank hold. I wasn’t able to do that many burpees and I was cheating on my plank hold that I foolishly started on the rings. This is my sixth day working out and I’m pooped. Also, I was trying Chip Conrad-style burpees and boy did my pushups suck by the end. I think I was able to do 77 “normal” burpees, but only 61 of the Chip burpees.

I really wonder if I’ll get around to drinking myself senseless on February 14. I’m using my closet painting and mudding to distract myself from any failures I have associated with that date and I really need to get that done. Plus the painting touchup in the bathroom. Plus the mudding of the weird swoopy wall patterns in the hallway. Plus the wiring of the second bedroom light. I have a lot of alone time scheduled for this weekend which matches nicely with my relationship status.

Burger club tried to go to the Carlyle for our last burger, but they were out. I think they’re out for good now. We ended up at Pause who has really good pub burgers though they overcooked mine a bit. Not as big a disappointment as other things in my life, so I’m not too worried.

I didn’t want to see HER tonight.

So this is very gym-centric: I’ve been at the gym for five days straight as of tonight, and I usually only go four in a row. Even when I do four days in a row, I usually don’t go as hard as I’ve done this week, because last weekend was a Chip Conrad seminar and he has some serious workouts. I’ve been trying to take it easy this week, but I just don’t have any common sense. Today, when I got to the gym, I saw we were doing “Helen”, 2 laps around the building, 21 swings of a 24kg kettlebell, and 12 kipping pullups, repeated for three rounds. I thought I’d just limp my way through it, but of course I got out there on an easy run ahead of everyone else. Alex got ahead of me, but I was close enough that I had to catch up and pass him on the last round. Nick did his rounds in 9:08 and I knew I don’t run as fast and usually finish about half a minute slower on a good day, and today I finished in 9:37.

Really, since I know I don’t have the sense to slow down on my own, I should just stay home. I don’t have that in me either. Fortunately, Friday is my rest day and that’s coming up soon.

I’m giving up on this online dating thing.

I actually did ask someone out and she didn’t tell me to get bent. But then she never did return any messages sent on the intarweb and didn’t say anything when I saw her next, so this is probably the nicest brush-off I’ve received. I usually get very blunt reasons why I’m undateable and I don’t need to hear about my failings. They’re clear enough to me, thank you.

There are two reasons I’m giving up on online dating. Or three. Start counting, since I’m not good at it. First is that I’m reducing my disappointments by just not trying. If you don’t try, you don’t fail. Besides, I’m trying for the old baseball analogy of three strikes and you’re out this year and I’ve had my strike for the first third of the year.

Second is that friends are treating me like dogmeat, so why should I let strangers do the same? I mean if someone sends you a text message asking you out to dinner, and when you see them at the gym an hour later they immediately say, “As soon as I sent you that text, I realized my stomach didn’t feel so good, I don’t think I want to go tonight,” and then they go out to sushi with their real friends and post that to Facebook, I have a right to feel a little like a chump, right?

Third (aha, I knew there was more than two) is that I reactivated an account on Match.com and they’re sending me pictures of women who match me somehow. They are all large and in charge. I mean, really, I figure Match wants my money and they’re sending me the best of the bunch and the people on Match are posting their best pictures to try to get dates. I hate to be such a superficial SOB but holy hell I wonder if I’m just seeing the casting call pictures for a remake of Le Bossu de Notre Dame. Or maybe I’m just getting pictures from a mug shot database. I know I’m being picky, but if I’m going die alone anyway, it doesn’t matter a goddamn bit, does it?

So there you have it. The dating pool for a guy like me is pretty frigging small and shallow, more like a puddle, and I think the puddle is completely drying up. It’s just as well, my imagination for is flagging. I mean, I just got a bonus and some money back from my Costco credit card and the only thing I’m thinking of spending money on is a Roth IRA and I’m not even sure I’m going to live long enough to see any of it. Maybe I’ll buy some Hummel figurines and some Ed Hardy shirts.

Stood up.

I was supposed to get one of my last Carlyle burgers tonight but I got stood up. It wasn’t a big deal, but I’m still counting it. I thought about going by myself, weighing the the hedonistic benefits of a delicious cheeseburger with the health benefits of a nice leafy salad, and I picked the salad. I’m not really sure why, because delayed gratification has to have some sort of gratification at the end. Being fat, dumb, and happy requires a certain commitment to the calories that I’m just not getting lately. Oh, well, I had to scrub the toilet anyway. Oh, and do some work. It probably says something when I’d rather scrub the toilet than do work.

My friend described himself as one hoodie away from being the Unabomber today, but he’s married and has twin babies so I’m pretty sure he’s not able to hide himself in his own dungeon. I’m pretty certain the Unabomber stayed away from technology so I’m in no danger of that either, but I think if I just got some anime I could be an otaku. Sounds like a lot of work and kind of expensive, what with the trips to the maid bars and all.

Fat, dumb, and happy: two out of three ain’t bad.

A sinus headache is no way to start out a day, especially a day that included the second half of a two day Chip Conrad seminar. The seminar included a lot of why and not just a lot of what, and it was a bit much for me. I know why I do the things I do and I don’t really care that much about why others do what they do. Well, I do care, but I don’t care enough to listen to a guy for several hours about his philosophy on Powerpoint slides. Ideas are fine, but trying to wrap it all up with a pretty bow just kind of annoys me. If I wanted that, I’d go to church. It’s worth listening to Chip Conrad to get to the good bits, though, and he’ll even tell you to listen to lots of things and throw away what doesn’t work for you.

I think I was rude to a friend of mine this morning, who told me I looked good the other day. The problem is, I didn’t believe her. I never believe anyone who tells me that because I only hear things like that from people’s grandmothers. If you’re not 40 years older than me (and that’s getting hard to do nowadays) I’m not used to hearing anything like that and I may not have the proper reaction. I should have said, “Thanks,” but I said something snotty instead. I was also suffering from a sinus headache at the time, which I mentioned previously. I’m more used to hearing, “You’re old,” (heard from several people at the gym this week and repeatedly from the guy who owns the gym) or, “Those are the stupidest looking glasses I’ve seen,” (heard several times at work since the start of the year), but not a lot of compliments. That’s the world of guys, I suppose, but I think I’ve been on a downhill slide lately. Nowhere to go but up when you hit the bottom, but the bottom could be a long ways off.

The plan for St. Valentines day.

It is fortuitous that St. Valentines day is on a Sunday before President’s day as now I have a plan in place for the proper celebration of such an auspicious event. For most it would be a secondary plan of record, but for me it is my main plan which is very unlikely to be derailed. I now have enough booze in the house that I can spend the 15th of February (the aforementioned Presidents’ day) quite hung over since I can’t imagine what I’d do on St Valentines day besides drinking myself into a stupor.

Like I said, it’s a plan and I haven’t rated it on its validity or efficacy, but I am doing a dry run tonight watching music videos on YouTube.

I wonder which makes me sound more gay, watching George Michael videos or starting to like Cher?

The end is near!

Tonight I had a burger at the Carlyle, the second one for this week. The place was pretty crowded with people getting their last Carlyle meals before it closes on February 14th and I heard that the reservations were filling up quickly. I’m not sure why, but the burger tonight was much better than the one I had on Monday. Monday’s was good, but this one was even better. I ordered it rare both times and this time they even cooked it on the rare side, rather than on the well side. The desserts are small but tasty as well.

It’s sad to think it’s going away so soon after I discovered it. I do like the burger at Laurelhurst Market better, so at least I have that to fall back on.

Stupid back.

My back has been feeling crampy for the past couple of days. Not the sharp single pain I’m used to dreading, but just crampy up and down my back. I wonder if I’m just dehydrated, though I’m drinking a lot of water. I drank a water bottle’s worth of water right before I went to sleep and only got up once to go to the bathroom. Doing something that ridiculous usually makes me get up three times in a night.

I went to the gym even with my creaky back and it wasn’t so bad. Actually, lifting heavy things made it feel better for a little while.

Other than that, I have very little going on this week. I wish I was finished painting my closet, but that’s not happening any faster than if the contractor did it. Funny that.

Go to sleep early, he says.

I stayed up late checking the titles of a bunch of mashup songs I have (hint: look here) and I failed once again to go to bed at a normal hour. I also had to reboot my work laptop a few times, but that’s the joy of using Windows, even when it’s just to check your stinking email. In any case, that was my excitement for the night, repetitively copy-and-pasting song titles into iTunes.

The things we find interesting…

Bad news everyone, Carlyle is closing.

Just when we found our #2 burger spot, the Carlyle, we find out they’re closing on Valentine’s Day. Yet another thing to bemoan on that night. At least when I was in Japan I’d get some “giri choco.” The man (in Japan) has decided that on Valentine’s Day, women give guys who they’re interested in chocolate. “Giri choco” roughly translates to obligation chocolate, and the women in an office generally give it to the guys in the office. Being that it’s Japan, women get the short end of the stick and on White Day (March 14) they get back white chocolate from their special (or obligatory) guys. Yeah, whatever. February 14 only has one good thing going for it: Oregon’s statehood.

Sean made it to the Monday workout and we talked each other into going to the Carlyle for a burger. We only have two weeks left and, like I said, it’s up there on our list of best burgers. They tend to overcook it, but it’s tasty. So much for any sort of diet I had, but I’m beginning to wonder why I don’t just give in and balloon up to some sumo-wrestler-like weight so I can take up the space which I deserve. Sounds like another hobby that I don’t want to take up.

Might as well post a picture of the guy at Home Depot who makes me happy by waving his arms around.