It Still Hurts

I looked down at my torso and indeed, on both sides of waist were (and are) fairly significant bruises: on the right is a large thumbprint sized area, on the left is a dark thumbprint surrounded by a less dark hand-sized area.

My body hurt too much this morning to go running. Perhaps part of the lesson is to deal with the pain, but I am, as I have said, a wuss. I'm not doing it.

Darin advised me not to get this type of massage again; I'm inclined to agree with him. I don't think I'm having any major psychological revelations as a result of it (scrap the front page, I think we have a new lead story -- I hold things in!), and I'm not a big fan of getting bruised.

I can just see showing someone these bruises and the cops showing up to arrest Darin. "No! No! I paid someone to do this to me! Really!"

Darin and I had dinner at Koo Koo Roo. If this chicken chain hasn't gotten to you, it will; you will know it by the logo of the winking chicken. It's pretty good. Their two big products are original skinless and rotisserie chicken. It's clear that they wanted to have a chain that offered "healthy" chicken, until they realized that the public's committment to eating healthier is just a public relations ploy and they really want stuff cooked in butter. Out came the rotisseries. Darin and I had original tonight, if you must know.

The last time we were at this place I saw a middle-aged woman -- funny how we think of 50s-60s as middle-aged, isn't it? You don't see too many 100-120 year olds walking around -- open her purse, take out a McDonald's cup, walk over to the drink dispensers, fill the cup, and carefully place a plastic cover on the cup before leaving.

I have no idea why that stayed with me.

I seem to have neglected to mention that alongside the "severe thunderstorm warnings" in Cincinnati there were also "tornado warnings." In fact, one tornado warning got downgraded to a severe thunderstorm warning while we were at Darin's grandparents, and we didn't leave until it was clear that the severe storms were elsewhere in the state.

Cincinnati gets tornadoes. Aunt Lil takes them seriously, after one ripped out the house six doors down, and no, she doesn't live in a trailer park.

Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics

Replotted my TV spec. This was actually good time spent and not just mental masturbation -- I needed to make the story a little more important, a little more about something. Too often I veer from the hard questions. I can be so glib and facile that I end up skirting over deeper issues.