The new Jerusalem will NOT be located on the A/C train...

Not much to report from yesterday.

Oh wait, there was the boxing class. Here's how that went:

The class was fun. I tried to stretch for a million years so I wouldn't be that sore today, and was largely successful except for that part where your arm meets your torso (what I affectionately refer to as my "armpit muscle"). That feels like hell and sadly enough, is apparently connected to all movement in the body.

The instructor was one of those beefy guys that likes to give everyone a nickname. Whatever. That's his thing. But half the class I'd be working out and he'd ask, "What nickname am I gonna give you?" I don't know, but if you call me Kibbles, I'll kick you in the balls.

I'm not a violent person. I don't think in the course of my life, I've ever hit another human being. Even Abby. There was this one time that I slapped someone, but it was in a different, kinkier context...

I wished that I was angrier so that the session was therapeutic. But, all things considered (brought to you by NPR), life is pretty good for me right now. I'm not 100% happy, but I figure that's just getting greedy anyway. If I had taken this class shortly after the mugging, however, I think I would have just destroyed the punching bags. I did notice, however, that I enjoyed doing upper-cut punches to the bag and pretending I was punching some guy in the nuts.

But not in a rage way. In a far-too-amused-by-my-own-wandering-thoughts way. In fact, I'd smile, if not laugh, everytime I hit it. And when I was sparring with the instructor, he'd say stuff like, "You've got a great right-hook. But you gotta stop giggling. Hit me like you mean it!"

It's kind of like acting. I laugh some more.

He gets my nickname. The Giggler.

Next,
"Stop jumping when you punch! You look like a rabid squirrel! Are you a dancer? Dancers always do that."

No. Apparently, I'm a rabid squirrel.

"You've got pretty good form. Have you had a boxing class before?"

No. But I did date a boxer. So don't even think about it, buddy (not that he was).

Good sweat, good class, sore armpits.

I won't do an epic recounting of more A?C? drama trying to get to rehearsal. Needless to say, I'm beginning to resent ever having to go to Becca's because that subway is out to get me. Seriously, kids.

And rehearsal is boring. I know I should observe more, but Jason (director) has a very different style from my directing style, and one I've seen in action before (and I'd like to make a point that any way you go about it is a good thing, but it doesn't work for me) and it's hard to stay focused. Liz (stage manager) and I played Hangman for an hour. I fight the urge to text-message everyone I know. I settle for texting Abby to congratulate her on her first jury trial.

I come, walking a long way to the subway by myself, and the night is lovely. I let the wind tickle my face and I call Ashlee and let her tickle my...I don't know. Something friends tickle. My brain? When I'm out of the subway, I'm walking toward my apartment and I interrupt a couple having an intense discussion on the street.

I chuckle to myself. Sleazy and I had this couple beat. Suckers. Because they just got a cute, curly-headed girl interrupting them, but Sleazy and I got distracted by a prostitute that cut between us. That situation was sad and bad and whatnot, but that moment of having the yup-we're-gonna-break-up-because-you-don't-want-to-give-me-anything discussion and getting interrupted by a prostitute is one that I will treasure. I imagine moments like that won't happen too often in my life. I have a fantasy that the prostitute overheard the discussion and just turns and says,

"All or nothing? Baby, I give you all fo' 5 dollars!"

In the fantasy, I have yet to decide who she directs the comment to. In my opinion, it's hilarious either way.

And then I get home and Devon has pulled a MacGyver and has constructed a bubbler out of an empty pen, foil, and a vitamin water bottle. It was an impressive piece of improvised art and we enjoyed it out on the balcony.

Though this is another one of my more amusing entries, I feel like I should take this moment to say that a wave of sadness just washed over me. I hope everyone is alright. Maybe I'm just PMS-ing or something. But my mood seriously just went from pretty pleased-as-punch to aching melancholy in 2.5 seconds.

I don't know what that is.

I guess I'll get some work done.

But, in the meantime, this helps.