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Posts Tagged ‘personal’

historical oddity

Watching more Horatio Hornblower . . . .

Character: “I’m Jerome Bonaparte.”

Me: “No you’re not! You’re busy ruling Germany!”

Some history-checking later, I find out he hadn’t started ruling Germany yet (or rather, Westphalia), so I wasn’t allowed to yell at him for being in the middle of the ocean instead of where I thought he should be. But that was my knee-jerk reaction, and it amused me, because Jerome Bonaparte is a historical figure I’ve only recently learned anything about.

I like knowing random things.

How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways.

I’ve always known that I don’t like grading. But this is the first time I’ve been able to put it in such appalling terms:

I procrastinated from grading tonight by doing my federal and state taxes.

Doing my taxes was preferable to grading.

Ye gods.

What does one have to do to get a different result?


Which Lymond Character Are You?


Congratulations, you’re Francis Crawford of Lymond, for a time the Master of Culter. You’re the hero and the focal point of everything. You’re the quintessential romantic hero: brooding, mysterious, witty, informed, gentle, sensitive and all the rest. You should, perhaps, consider doing the dishes once in a while and speak in your native tongue when possible. In other words, show off a bit less. It won’t kill you.
Take this quiz!


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Join

| Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code

If I remember what it displayed correctly, 42% of us end up as Lymond. And I really, really wasn’t trying to skew that way. (I’m not sure I would want to skew that way. Lymond is not someone you necessarily want to emulate.) Maybe he’s so multi-talented, he covers most of the spectrum?

I disagree with their casting choice for the picture, though.

In other news, wow, I’ve spent most of today sleeping. No exaggeration. I guess I needed the rest?

ugh.

Spent most of the day feeling like microwaved death. About the best thing I’ve managed to accomplish today is finishing one book and reading the entirety of two more — and two of those three are worthy of recommendations, so I’m set for a couple of months. (The Spy Who Came in from the Cold was also good, but not the kind of thing I include in the recommendations.)

I think the plan for tomorrow will consist of more sacking out on the couch and reading. It’s about all I’m good for at the moment. You know you’re not doing well when you don’t feel lively enough to attempt Kingdom Hearts.

Oy.

Well, I made it through about three weeks of working out before doing something overly enthusiastic. That has to count for something, right?

In case you were wondering, interval training (alternating between sprinting and walking) may be great for fat loss, but it also kicks your ass six ways from Sunday. And should you decide to give it a shot, I recommend starting out with, oh, twenty minutes of it. Not half an hour.

If you need me, I’ll be on the floor, moaning and feeling sorry for myself.

In which the Swan admits she has no upper body strength

See that icon? Yeah, I’m nowhere near that.

These numbers will be a little embarrassing, but I want to record for posterity what I’m lifting here at the start of my exercise regimen, on the principle that I can then feel proud when I look back and see how far I’ve come. (In theory.) So here is what I’m doing for strength training right now.

  • Bench press: 2 x 12-15, 12 lbs. (It was disappointing to discover that the bar alone on the normal bench is heavier than I feel capable of. Not sure how much that thing weighs. Fortuantely, they have these nice, padded weight bars in a variety of numbers. I’ll start with those and work my way up.)
  • Shoulder press: 2 x 15, 12 lbs. (See above about the weight bar. I quite like those things.)
  • Row: 2 x 15, 5 lbs. (Nothing like a single-digit number to make you feel pathetically weak, but since I do the exercises in this order, by the time I get this far, those muscles are already tired.)
  • Lat pulldown: 2 x 15, 30 lbs. (A higher weight, at last! And I’m going to add to this one the next time I do it; it isn’t tiring me much at all, at the current weight.)
  • Back hyperextensions: 2 x 12, no weight. (Today’s addition to the regimen. I really need to strengthen my lower back more.)
  • Crunches: 2 x 15. (God, I hate crunches.)

So there you have it. I’m not doing lower-body stuff as yet; leg muscle has never been a problem for me, and my cardio work alone will give me some of that. I think I may add “pullups” on the lat machine, though, as a step toward doing proper pullups, since those always look cool.

I don’t have any particular goals regarding what I want these numbers to be in six months; I don’t have enough experience with weights to know what’s reasonable to aim for. But I’ll be keeping an eye on the stats, and reporting back in when I feel like I’ve made progress.

Ladies and gentlemen of the internets,

I am writing you this missive from the kitchen of my residence. It is a southward-facing room, and the doors to the rest of the house are shut. The oven is turned on, and twenty-four candles burn on my counters. Thanks to these measures, I am tolerably warm; though my toes are a bit cold, I am not wearing gloves, and the blanket I had wrapped around me is currently on the floor. I am, however, still wearing thick socks and slippers, sweatpants, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt, and my nice warm bathrobe.

From this fortress I shall await the arrival of the man who is to fix our furnace.

If you do not hear from me again, please retrieve my frozen body from this kitchen and give it proper burial.

addendum to the fitness post

I begin to suspect that my standards for judging my fitness are slightly askew when I think, “I’ll know my glutes are in good shape when I can do a grand rond de jambe en dedans and not throw my hip out when I go from derrière to à la seconde.”

Not that I did that over Christmas or anything.

(I blame my mother taking me to her adult ballet class. They don’t require you to be at those standards, but the problem is, my muscle memory doesn’t remember how to do anything except at certain standards . . . which I no longer have the muscles for.)

I need to figure out fitness benchmarks that don’t come from ballet.

iconage with an excuse

The boy and I joined a gym recently, which means that for the first time in my life, I’m trying to exercise just for the purpose of exercising. That is, I’m not taking dance classes to prepare for a recital, or doing summer swim team with organized meets; I’m just going to the gym and doing stuff to be in better shape. This is a new experience for me.

Because I’m still having fun with all my glorious new icon space, I have an exercise icon; I figure Demi Moore doing a one-armed pushup in G.I. Jane is a good inspiration/motivator/what-have-you, because man, she was hard in that movie. (Edited to add: Also, a pic of Hillary Swank in Million Dollar Baby just seemed a little too ominous for my taste.)

This also seems a good chance to pimp something I encountered a while ago (I think from gollumgollum, though I’m not sure): Stumptuous.com. It’s written primarily as a weightlifting site for women, but honestly, half or more of its information is good for men, women, small children, and other humanoid creatures; things like the lowdown on sets, reps, tempo, periodization, nutrition, cardio, and the like are useful for everybody. If you’re a woman, though, you may particularly appreciate the advice that has specifically to do with female body structure and the difficulties that may arise from working out during your period. (I’d say go look at the pictures for inspiration, but the link to the photos seems to be broken.)

I’ve started out with just some very very basic cardio, keeping it easy because right now I think my biggest challenge is simply getting myself into the habit of going to the gym. Time enough to push myself into harder workouts when I’m used to working out in the first place, right? But I’m looking into picking up a bit of weightlifting (hence browsing Stumptuous) because, frankly, I want to look utterly smashing in my wedding dress, and most of them seem to be strapless. ^_^ Plus, y’know, upper body muscle doesn’t suck to have. I’m also stretching again; I love doing it, but apparently need a reason to do it (like an evening of dancing, or a workout I just finished). I’ve often tried stretching for its own sake, and can never make a habit of it. It’s also the one area of my workout that I have experience and familiarity with, where I can not only understand what I’m doing but choose reasonable goals for my progress. Step one: get my front splits back, reliably. (I’m close, but only get them after I’m warm.) Step two: get my side splits to not suck. Step three: get my side splits to the wall/walkover point. (Is there any purpose in pushing myself that far? No, because I’m not a ballet dancer anymore. But dammit, I want my 180 back. Or at least the 178 or so I used to have.)

I’d be interested in hearing advice from the peanut gallery, since I’m so very new to this whole “gym” thing.

updatery

World Fantasy was good. Got to see (read: stay with) Khet; got to socialize with many
friends from previous cons and make some new ones. The con itself wasn’t the best I’ve ever
been to — thin programming, too heavily focused on the topic du jour (the Robert E. Howard
Centennial), and most of the panels I went to were okay at best — but that’s only one of the
reasons I go, and not even the most important one, so I’m not upset.

Voted this afternoon. Most of my time was spent waiting for them to figure out what to do
with the two women in front of me who had both moved and therefore needed to jump through
administrative hoops. Link of interest: the Vote
by Mail Project
is pushing the model of voting Oregon uses, which appears to be vastly
preferable on every front you can imagine. Worth taking a look at.

Also, started wading through my school e-mail that had built up over the weekend, and found
I’ve made it through the first round of cuts for my Collins course proposal. Now I have a
half-hour interview/presentation to go through, with some adjustments to be made to my
syllabus. Not sure when I’ll have the time to prep for that between now and Thursday, but I’d
better find some, as it appears I stand an actual chance of getting this through.

packy packy

After a week or so of fighting myself into a stalemate against the forces of entropy in my
life (read: trying to clean, trying to finish projects, trying to catch up on e-mail, feeling
generally like a hamster on a treadmill), I’m abandoning the battle and flying off to warmer
climes for a few days.

See some of y’all at World Fantasy.

Project Eat My Head

Ongoing endeavours with immediate deadlines on them:

  • AFS paper (status: 90% complete)
  • Collins course proposal (status: 80% complete)
  • C.V. revision (status: 95% complete)
  • midterm grading (status: 0% complete)
  • novel proposal (status: ??? complete)

For the first time in a while, my academic commitments are winning their ongoing war with
my writing to eat my head. One week from today, when the first three items are done with and
the fourth is (hopefully) mostly done, I’ll be able to breathe and look at other things. In
the meantime, I need to push them all toward completion. The status percentages looked a lot
scarier at the beginning of this weekend, though; say what else you will about the last few
days, but at least I managed to be productive with them.

Now I think I need some sleep.

my lunatic friends

Imagine, if you will, that you are in another city, wherein there is a chocolatier who sells the most divine hot chocolate you have ever tasted — thick and rich and beautifully bitter as the best dark chocolate can be. And you intended, while there, to go and buy more of their mix, so that you can continue to enjoy this divinity while at home . . . but alas, you planned poorly, and you will not have an opportunity to go there and buy.

Imagine that you mention this to your friends while sitting around and packing picnic baskets for that afternoon’s wedding.

Imagine — if you can — that not only will one of your friends take the time to go by that chocolatier before the wedding, but that the one who will take the time to arrange this is the groom himself, who really ought to have other things on his mind.

And then — because we’re not done yet! — imagine that you mentioned, during that conversation, the exorbitant price charged by the chocolatier if you order the five-pound bag of mix online (some of the exorbitancy stemming from the chocolate, some from the shipping charges), and that said groom friend gets it into his head that you intended to buy a five-pound bag (instead of the rather more reasonable two-pound bag), and therefore, during the picnic following his wedding, presents you with a sack containing two two-pound bags and one one-pound bag (owing to a lack of five-pound bags in the store), accompanied by the words “Happy Birthday.”

Thus did I acquire an absurd amount of Burdick’s hot chocolate, from a friend whose mind really really ought to have been on things closer to home. But I’m grateful to him anyway, and am now equipped to hand out samples of this divinity to all and sundry, for about the next three years.

The Egotism Post

Long-time readers of this journal will be familiar with today’s exercise, but for those who are new, an introduction in three points:

1) Today is my birthday.

2) So long as I continue to be involved in academia, my birthday will fall during a rather hectic and stressful period of the year.

3) I am perhaps a little too skilled for my own good at pointing the flaws in my accomplishments, how I’ve done this thing but not that other one, etc.

So, for several years now, to counteract my tendency to be in a bad mood on my birthday (for reasons that have nothing to do with my age) and my habit of denigrating my own achievements, I’ve made a practice of
posting, on this day, a listing of all the cool stuff I’ve done in the previous year. And I’m utterly forbidden to qualify my statements or include anything that isn’t positive (and you have no idea how much self-editing it takes to obey that rule).

So. I’m twenty-six today. What do I have to show for it?

This.