i spent a good chunk of this weekend studying diagrams of different joint structures and horribly recreating them on paper.

i’m a pretty bad artist.

i remember thinking i was hot shit back in 4th grade because i drew several decent unicorns and was really into shadowing and adding depth to my mystical creature drawings.  this was all put to rest when i saw what my friend amy could produce and i decided to stick to things i excelled at.  tastykake consumption and music identification.  i can name most songs a minute into it and i used to be able to consume an entire box of butterscotch krimpets in record time.

now that i no longer have a death wish, i no longer scarf down unreasonable amounts of east coast snack treats. i still suck at drawing.

i spent a couple of hours at the summit.  i set up shop in the morning with my books and my journals and headphones and coffee and discovered that it’s possible i could have damaged my medial colateral ligament when i fell out of that handstand a month ago.  taking the weekend off of yoga was hard but necessary.  i’m just glad i have anatomy to be excited about.  it feels good to be excited about something these days.

we had our third sunday art day this weekend as well with the addition of maria and it was fun and productive though all i did was make more stickers with ridiculous words on them and tried drawing more bone and joint structures.  poorly.  this art day included a pizza from paxtis and several musical interludes.  only one made my skin crawl.  carol channing is not from this world.  or this universe.

the dr. and i went for a bike ride saturday afternoon where i didn’t die and only walked 2-3 blocks when i was too scared or confused.  towards the end of the ride a couple of blocks from home i did lose track of what was going on and exclaimed in the middle of a busy intersection “MONKEY! I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!”

i was too busy untangling myself from my bike to see if anyone had noticed my cry for help.

i wasn’t too keen on waking up this morning par for the course.  i was in the middle of this awesome dream that involved a gathering that evolved into a party where someone transported an entire coffee bar into the house and there was a pool in the office with rubber duckies and those ridiculous pool noodles.  despite early rising and a boat load of work in front of me i thought about stuff and realized it’s pretty good to be me and i’m uber glad that 96% of the time i like me.  it’s really difficult to be happy when that percentage is lower.  and really, if you’re not a homicidal maniac or inherently evil, you have no reason to like yourself any less than 96%.


2 Responses to “96%”

  1. 1 Alicia February 8, 2011 at 8:48 pm

    I think I’m at the 96% mark too. I don’t think our 10-years-ago-selves would ever believe that.

  2. 2 jen` February 8, 2011 at 8:59 pm

    exactly! i don’t think the us of yesteryear would have ever guessed. 🙂

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February 2011
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