Let's Walk... Outside

I put off walking tonight for a good long while.

This being after I didn't do cardio on Wednesday because I was meeting Beth and Daniel at the Royals game for some shenanigans. I ended up actually seeing a baseball in the fountain and was so upset that I didn't think ahead like Zack Hample and bring my own water retrieval device. (And if you don't know Zack or haven't heard of him check out both the blog and his website. He's a stand-up guy who catches baseballs for charity.)

So instead I just emo tweeted about it and took a picture.



And then Beth took some other ones with her camera that apparently have me reaching desperately for the ball. I told her that I would get the ball when I go back tomorrow. I am fully determined to copy Zack's device and will fully credit him as well as re-read Watching Baseball Smarter, which he signed, great baseball book.

Hm, after re-reading Zack's entry on the colander I'm not sure that I'll be able to get the ball off the bottom of the fountain. We'll see.

That leads us to Thursday and the nap of death, followed by Grey's (Yay! Arizona!), and then my subsequent dead zone of sleep.

After chatting with Kamiah we talked about the exercise plan for tonight and Saturday and I'm pretty sure I can stick to it.

Tonight I decided to do the cardio and then I came home and sat down and watched my taped Project Runways and sighed about getting on the treadmill. So I decided to walk outside and after I had left my house I remembered a few vital things.

1. At 8:19 at night the sun is down.
2. I live in the ghetto part of the Burg where we don't believe in street lights.
3. While I was wearing a bright orange/white/green baseball cap I stupidly had a black t-shirt on.

I walked around my neighborhood and got out to the highway and looped back around enjoying the inclines on the road and not seeing numbers tick away in front of me.

Then a red Monte Carlo passed by me going very slowly. I had my music up loud, but they had the window rolled down and I thought I heard a squeaking sound. I kept walking. About eight minutes later the Monte Carlo came by again this time behind me and passed by... and I realized that I was in the middle of the Pet Smart commercial where they try to find the dog by squeaking a toy out the window.

I nearly asked them the third time what type of dog and what the dog's name was since I still had some time left before I hit thirty minutes, but I didn't.

Two minutes before I was done a black lab trotted up alongside me and I wondered if he was the dog they were looking for, but he wouldn't let me touch his collar to see if he had tags on.

Miles Walked: I'm not sure I'll check in the morning
Circuit: Beginner - 3

Ceasing Ramble.

It's all Kenny's Fault

I've been meaning to write about my trip to San Francisco to visit Bryce, but apparently I'm lazier than I had originally thought.

This summer I was pretty sure I would not be going on any trips until Bryce waved a voucher for Southwest around in a movement comparatively like that of a snake charmer. So I snapped at the opportunity to visit him and take in some Bay area sites.

My first surprise is that Southwest Airlines is better than I remember. I felt very much at home on each of my flights. The attendants definitely can make long or short flights countless times better by having the humor that those I encountered had.

I will say that the overload of the Las Vegas airport was almost too much for me. I walked off the plane to the sound of a casino and was greeted with machine after machine. The sparkling lights of wonder made me quite glad I did not bring cash with me or Bryce might never have seen me actually arrive at the San Jose airport.

The eats at the airport were not too exciting, but I was smacked on the head by the audacity of Burger King jacking the prices to those who were trapped in the flashy casino of an airport.

Arriving in California I fell into C's car and whined about anything from sleepiness to children being miscreants of society. Getting to Bryce's apartment I fell onto the couch and tried to keep small talk, but really felt vaguely awake, an almost zombie-like state, until I begged to go to sleep.

The next day was the intrepid use of almost every possible form of transportation that the Bay area has to offer. We walked, we Caltrained, we BART'ed, we bussed, and bussed and BART'ed and Caltrained some more. It was not until later that we realized how much we had in fact walked while strolling through the Haight/Ashbury district of San Francisco where we encountered:

1. A record store with too many things for me to look at ADHD kicked in full-time.
2. People who thought they were hippies, but were not quite hippies (they did have amusing signs though).
3. Some yummy Indian food, although not the Best of India.
4. A nice bookstore and a cluttered bookstore with a very opinionated co-owner. She went off on a poor potential customer about why they don't carry LGBT books. She focused on how LGBT books are only erotica (she's wrong about that) and then segued into why they also do not carry Lolita. I was so close to yelling at her that we had to leave. I mean she could have then talked about video games leading to violence.
5. A group of friends who couldn't find the right amount of money for the bus they were waiting for, but smelled like they belonged on Haight/Ashbury forever. Luckily the bus ride was free due to the need to enter from the back. Lovely.

During the evening we went to the Giants game and I bought a stocking cap as I was cold (already). This was also the rebirth of the Crazy Crab this character is so fascinating that I acquired two bobbleheads of him. He filled Bryce and I with much glee.

As we left the game because I was a) cold and b) the Giants were losing to the Brewers with their newly acquired, at that time, pitcher C.C. Sabathia. We got to the train and plunked down into a seat. It was in the next thirty minutes that we realized that everything that could ever be and ever shall be faulted to someone is Kenny Lewis' fault.

Kenny, if you ever find this... you need better friends.

Poor, poor Kenny, but yet it was fantastically funny to yell at him when the lights went out and when they came back on and during the rest of the weekend.

Then came Saturday. Bryce and I were supposed to get up and walk to the music festival and then catch Batman. It was on this day we realized that our legs hurt and we were not looking forward to walking "two miles" these two miles are actually about three and a half miles.

We finally set off so I could see Mates of State and after almost breaking down into a puddle of whiny mess we got to the festival. I was especially pleased with The Whigs. Very nice set. It was nice to lay out and listen to live music.

Then came Batman. This may deserve it's whole own blog.

The best part of the movie is that C came to see it with us and drove us home. I told her as I fell into the car that I would have curled up in a ball and cried if we had to walk the "two miles" back to Bryce's place. She felt used... where really appreciated is the best adjective.. possibly praised.

Sunday we were in pain, legs hated us, some Rockband was meagerly played on the Wii. We then attended the San Jose Giants the A league team of the SF Giants and it was pretty fun and nice. We did encounter:
1. The absence of electricity so no Churro Man. No scoreboard (instead people stood out on the warning track toward the foul line holding the pitching count on large pieces of cardboard). No well cooked any-food.
2. A non-plussed teenage girl reading Oh My Goth! and texting inside the book as to hide it from her family. There was another to our left doing the same thing, but I didn't catch her book title.
3. A boy who should be the soprano of the Vienna Boy's Choir. His scream was what a sci-fi superhero's debilitating superpower could be based on.
4. St. Paul Saints fans who liked my hat.
5. A young toddler who enjoyed holding onto my arm like she knew me. She did not, in fact, know me.

So visiting Bryce was fun and after I typed that out I guess we did do things besides hurt our legs horribly. There were good breakfasts, jokes about how I talk like an old man when commenting on Sara Ramierz, and lots of indecisiveness.

You can always count on me for being complacent.

Ceasing Ramble.