in other words, i might not know what i must do from now on, but in the words of hank hill, "i'll tell you what"...i know what i won't be doing again for quite a while...
i digress, i've been meaning to blawg about this for three weeks now, and finally i have some free time...and by "free time" i mean i can't be bothered to do any work tonight. i tried, but it just was not working out for me. speaking of...i was supposed to have started working out weeks ago as well, as a part of my "thirty and fly" campaign. i actually started working towards working out, but still haven't quite moved into that next phase. i changed my eating habits, which is a pretty hard thing if you know me because i enjoy partaking in indulgent things. here's what i got:
- i no longer eat carbohydrates (or most food in general) after about 8.0p because i either heard somewhere or made it up myself that the human body doesn't prefer to sleep with food in it
- i no longer drink soda, except for special occasions or when i'm extremely stressed
- i make sure to drink enough water and juice to keep my pee as close to clear as possible
- i have a glass of water before i eat (and sometimes after) to keep from being a glutton
- i restrict fried foods to maybe once a month
i think that's about it for now. i think the eating habits are a good first step, but i suppose it won't mean much unless i actually pick up a weight or do a sit-up or something. motivation is so damn hard for a primetime procrastinator like me. i best get on my game, otherwise this "thirty and fly" campaign is gonna fall apart faster than my inhibition after 4 double shots of tequila...
which i guess brings me back to the original story. i guess i should start way back in november or so. i was sitting at home, up to no good as usual, and got a mysterious phone call from a good acquaintance:
good acquaintance: hey wesley.
me: hi.
good acquaintance: listen, one of the guys on our volleyball team can't make it, and your name came up. can you play in a tournament with us?
me: sure, when is it?
good acquaintance: saturday.
me: as in the day after tomorrow?
good acquaintance: yes.
me: okay.
good acquaintance: cool, thanx. oh, by the way, just so you know, it's a NAGVA tournament.
me: a what?
good acquaintance: NAGVA, the gay volleyball league. but there are a lot of straight guys who play in it, so it should be cool.
me: okay.
let me start by saying that for some reason, when it comes to playing indoor volleyball, i'm all about it. i tend to hate playing outdoor volleyball for various reasons, including, but not limited to...
- the weather sucks (wind, rain, heat, cold, anything will kill me)
- playing in the sand is like being stuck in a state of perpetual slow motion
- said sand is actually quicksand
- mosquitoes like dark meat, but they absolutely love the flavor of me and are not afraid to let it be known
- there's no telling what's in the sand (broken glass, dirty needles, those burrs that we black people call "stickerbugs", etc.)
- liquid plumber stays in business solely behind all the sand clogging my tub after coming home from sand volleyball
- after playing sand volleyball, i look like a piece of fish, breaded and ready to be fried
the list really goes on and on for quite a long way. anyway, the point is that between the months of march and september i don't really play much volleyball because indoor isn't too popular during the months of what crazy white people refer to as "nice" weather, but is really miserable weather. so when september finally rolls around, i'm so excited to play that anyone who asks me to play with them will almost always receive some sort of "yes" as an automated response.
person 1: hey, wesley, do you wanna play on a team on mondays?
me: yes.
person 2: hey, wesley, we need another guy for our tuesdays team...
me: i'm in.
person 3: hey, wesley, you know the wednesday league is starting up...
me: i'll play.
person 4: hey, wesley, are you on a team for thursdays?
me: i am now.
person 5: hey, wesley, there's a tournament this weekend.
me: i'm there.
person 6: hey, wesley, are you playing open gym friday?
me: of course.
person 7: hey, wesley, are you playing open gym saturday?
me: well, i'm playing in a tournament, but i'll be there sunday.
and that's pretty much how it goes at the beginning of indoor volleyball season. the prospect of being able to play again gets me as giddy as a schoolgirl. but my thing is this; i never EVER realize that playing in all those leagues and tournaments is approximately the same as paying three bills. sh*t adds up...quickly. so i guess it could be argued that september is responsible for driving me into a state of mixed euphoria. i'm elated to play, yet i maintain a constant state of financial despair and dysfunction. oh well, that's life.
and speaking of financial despair...i gotta throw this one in for free. i was doing my taxes this past weekend (not too many people know this, but i can do taxes...one of my many purposefully hidden talents) and apparently entered a wrong number in a box. when i saw that i owed the IRS seven thousand dollars (yes, my friends, US dollars), the next few words that came out of this mouth were...
for a second, i thought i had tourette's because that sh*t was just f*cking uncontrollable. i went all the way back to square one and finally figured out that i put that damn number in the wrong box. i fixed it and everything was as it should have been from the get go. i was seriously gonna have a heart attack and have to move out of the country...oh yeah, i was on my way back to japan...
i digress...majorly. that was a whole blawg's worth of digression. meanwhile, back to the NAGVA tournament. i ended up playing and had a great time. they asked me to play with them in new orleans during the martin luther king holiday weekend. i told them that i would. yada yada yada, time went by, and it was time for the tournament. i will introduce a new cast of characters now.
there were four of us in the car for the road trip. the captain of this trip was "lance." he's a follicle-challenged fellow who is the kind of gay guy who will punch you in the face while screaming at the top of his lungs. he also serves as the queen of fashion, as he is constantly reminding me of all my faux pas actions. i'd gut check him, but he's bigger than i am. besides, his screaming is more effective than ella's singing, if you know what i mean. speaking of singing, also in the car was "divo," a proud member of the two hundred club, yet is always talking about how he needs to lose weight because he ate too much. my response every time he brings it up: "what am i, blind?" rounding out this zany cast of characters was "wii." he was a polar opposite of lance and divo. while they are out there and stoopid, wii was more reserved and logical in his thinking. possibly because he's asian, but you know how i feel about that; we're never gonna beat those people.
well...the first thing is that divo loves to sing...a lot. so does lance for that matter. when lance sings, i can't help but hear this:
bless his heart. in his mind i know he thinks that he's the next keith sweat. sorry to burst your bubble buddy; my ignorant and trouble-seeking brother trip has that avenue quite covered. he's the minor issue here, though. divo sang literally the entire eight-hour trip. i'm gonna end this part one blawg with a video clip of what divo thinks he sounds like, and what he actually sounds like. part deux will be up soon, because i'm now tired.
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