my inner moving dance monkey

(apologies in advance, this is a whole lot of thoughts compiled into one post)

training has been going well. i kind of feel like at any moment during the workout my trainer is going to turn to me and say "jump monkey! jump!" and you KNOW i'll do it. almost avoided the near-blackout situation, but not quite. i'm sure he thinks i'm a spaz. well, I AM. (i also seem to be very fond of caps lately) the trainer also needs me to log everything i eat and drink. the eating is not the problem. i eat very healthily (is that even a word?!). it is the logging of the beverages, particularly the alcholic beverages, that i worry about. i realize that i bend the truth a little when doctor's ask (and they've been asking a lot lately) how many alcoholic beverages i consume in a week. i'm afraid that if i told them the truth, they'd pronounce me dead there and then... or at least my liver:)

i'm thinking of doing this really cool grand canyon hike for The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, but then again, i think about doing charity work all the time. i think i found at least one place i might volunteer in the future. not quite yet as it is too personal at this point, but i'm not ruling it out. besides, i am a charity case enough for all around me these days ;)

i find my stressing out about who to take to a couple of upcoming weddings. one's this summer, the other, fall. i mean, i could just pick the next guy out of the line of prospects (and there generally is one - so what if it just so happens to be the same line as the one outside the food pantry), but i'm not sure that's what i want. in fact, i know that's not what i want. let's not talk about my love life... too many issues, too much frustration, too little interest in divulging the uninspiring, embittering details.

watch out for the interns:
so last week, i had blood taken by an intern at the fine medical establishment i frequent. either she had never taken blood before or she was clearly blind. after peircing the skin, jabbing the needle around looking for the vein, and apologizing profuselty for her lack of skill, she barely mananged to get the vials filled. i sat there patiently thinking of how i was helping her learn. some learning curve. it's been a week and i still have a HUGE bruise trailing up my arm along the vein line. i had taken a photo to show you, but really, do you want to see an unflattering picture of my elbow region? i think not.

here's something that may amuse you:
tonight, continuing my journey of self-realization (also pronounced 'boredom'), i attended a free class titled 'Your Intuitive Self'. now, the description of the class mentioned that it would help you listen to yourself and help you figure out what you want. i could use this skill, the class included free alcohol and munchies, and did i mention it was free?? ergo, i went to the class. within the first minute of the two-hour session, i realized that either the description or my intuition of aforementioned description was totally off. the main theme of the class was 'how to be a psychic'. i learned about clairvoyance(sp?), my third eye(mind out of the gutters!), how dead people can come to you (like sixth sense style), and the intuition strengths (also called 'gifts') that i possess. i think my strongest sense was with inner movement. what the heck that means, i don't know. i always thought my strongest gifts lived within the constraints of my sweater (sweater kittens, meow). oh, and i learned about shakras. which of course got that shakira and wyclef song stuck in my head for the rest of class. i blame my inner moving dance monkey.