Thursday, August 9, 2007

Tagged...part deux

Yesterday I wrote 5 out of the 10 things about me that are Required by Blogging Law, as well as unrealistically tagging three people that I doubt will ever answer. Here are the other five things, followed by two more tags of people who maybe just might answer. Maybe.


6. I can't ride a bike. Finally, a short and simple one. Tried it, didn't inhale, didn't like it.

7. R.I.P. working out. Growing up I always kind of toyed and teased myself with working out. I had a weight bench, a trampoline, once made myself a little high-stepping running course out on the balcony of my mom's apartment (you know, one of those things you always see foot(not fut)ball players running on in training camp, where they high-step into little rope squares?). But I never really kept up with it or got myself "in shape." In college I started running more and found I enjoyed it, and one summer I spent almost exclusively at the gym of our YMCA, but I never kept up with it and and HATED the gym. Until I lived in LA for a little over a year. I'd been working at my first true 9-5, Mon-Fri job (which in actuality I made into a 6a-2p job) and I was bored shitless. I wasn't writing. I only had two or three people I'd really call friends living here. In desperation, I joined a gym. And much to my surprise, I started going for two hours every day...and loving it. Not to mention looking so good that people came up to me asking if I was in movies and telling me I should be when I told them no. (Okay, actually it was one person and he was a middle-aged security guard at the Galleria, but it still felt good.)

This lasted for about three months, until I strained a muscle in my back. I waited two days, until it felt better, then returned to the gym. Stupid. Hurt myself further. So I waited again, and this time decided that I would do no lifting, only running. Okay, common sense is not my strong point, I admit it. By then end of the second day of running, my back was a huge, Jello-like mass of pain. So I stopped working out pretty much altogether. Eventually my back seemed better, but then I noticed a different problem: my back muscles were really, really tight. So tight that when I did try to do something like running, lifting or, you know, walking fast, there was pain. And because I'd now hurt myself so many times, there was also fear. Sigh. Over the past two years I've seen a regular doctor, a masseuse, a few physical therapists, an acupuncturist, and had an MRI done (twice, technically, because the first time they screwed up and MRI'd the wrong part of my back). They all tell me it's stress and tension, that I have to relax, which isn't so helpful with the actual relaxing part.

8. I think I could live without music. Don't get me wrong, I love music. For most of college my winamp was constantly playing in the background. I sang in school choirs from grade school through college. I once was embarrassed by a girlfriend when I sang to her over the phone and she put me on speakerphone for all of her coworkers. She was a keeper. And it was more embarrassing because I'm pretty sure it was a song from Aladdin, and probably not the one you're thinking of.

But I don't love music the way other people I know love it. I typically can't name bands and don't know song titles when I hear songs playing. I don't go to concerts and don't really have much interest in them (seriously, I can think of two that I've been to in my life). My car right now has a radio and a tape deck, and all I listen to since my ipod was stolen is NPR. And I'm okay with that. Tangent: anyone else actually like listening to the membership drives on KCRW? I find them oddly addictive. Plus, there's so much cool stuff I could be overpaying for. (Note: I am an intermittent KCRW member, and it's not really overpaying when you're donating. Duh.)

9. I'm seriously addicted to hot wings. It's sad, and I blame college, especially my last year and a half. Even now I just started thinking about the sauce and I swear my mouth began watering. So deliciously evil....mmmmm. One day I will die of hardened arteries and Jul will kill me.

10. The tone of my writing changes with the medium. At least that's my theory. And I'm not sure that "medium" is exactly what I mean, but... In prose (short stories, etc) I tend to write stories and characters and explore themes that are dark and depressing. In scripts (TV, film, plays) the stories tend to end more happily, the characters are sillier, geekier and make more jokes and in general things are just lighter. It makes me think of a throwaway note, Dave, my favorite college professor, gave me when I completely rewrote a story to change my two main characters from a heterosexual couple to a gay couple: "There's still nothing distinctive about the relationship, but now that they're a gay couple and have longer names I kind of like that about it." I'm paraphrasing, but that was the general idea. I had actually changed the names from something like Pete and Sam (lets pretend that's for Samantha) to Peter and Samuel. Because clearly, all gay men use their full names. It just made me realize that I had done a mental shift without even realizing it...kind of the way I think I do when shifting from prose to script writing. Weird, but then, so am I.

Yay. I successfully squeezed two entries out of this. Noice.

And now I'm calling you out:

4. Michael Sullivan.
5. Emmett Furey.

As a bonus, I know that one or both of you probably have the contact information for at least one of the people I tagged yesterday who doesn't know I exist, so if you could get a response from him :)


Michael said...

Now I don't feel quite as special knowing you sang "A whole new world" so someone else over the phone.

Josh said...

Wrong. Two guesses left.

Josh said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
aintshakespeare said...

Hmmm. My guess is Arabian Nights.

A fool off his guard
Can fall and fall hard
Out there on the dunes.