I Wanna Live Forever

Exercise has benefits other than the obvious ones of improved health, stamina, and strength. It also improves your posture, as well as your level of confidence. Yesterday I learned that the converse also holds true: confidence improves your work out. It lets you use more weight, and do more reps. Kind of like Gatorade, I guess.

• Narrow-grip pull-ups: 110 lbs. (assist)
  
• Triceps (barbell): 30 lbs.
  
• 21s: 20/30 lbs.
  
• Tricep machine: 30 lbs.
  
• Bicep machine: 30/40 lbs.
  
• Triceps (barbell): 25 lbs.
  
• Bicep curls (barbells): 12/15 lbs. (x2)
  
• Tricep extensions: 10/12 lbs.
• Bicep curls (cables): 40 lbs.
  
• Triceps (cables): 30 lbs.
  
• Biceps (cables) 40 lbs. (x2)
  

Why do you people do this to yourselves?

I woke up one Sunday, and realized that something was different. It took me a minute to put my finger on it, and then I realized that I wasn't hungover. Drinking and going out every weekend is something I just expect. In fact, I tend to get more sleep on weekdays than on the weekends.

One scene I like to run is that as I pour my first drink, I claim that it's "just to take the edge off." I have a collection of strange drinking rules that I follow, as well:

1. I don't like to drink if the sun is still up.
2. I try to not keep alcohol in my own home.
3. I don't drink in my own home. The most notable exception to this is if I'm about to drink with some friends, in which case I'll have a shot before I leave.
4. I don't drink by myself (the exception from rule #3 still applies).

I'm alot more out-going when I'm drunk. More than that, I need to be out somewhere amongst people; I can't just sit around. Many times I've avoided drinking, when I knew that the night wouldn't end with going out. My other problem is that if I drink slowly, I just become sleepy. In fact, I get sleepy just thinking about it. Lately the trend has been that I'll just have a few drinks Friday night at a friends' place, and then lie around for the rest of the night. People usually complain about me being boring or something like that; well, guess what? It's your own fault, don't let me drink and then coop me up indoors.

3-2-1

I tried to wear contacts when I was in high school, but for some reason I couldn't go more than two weeks without ripping one. I gave up until I had almost finished college.

I stuck to clear contacts at first, but after a year or two I gave hazel a try. Part of the reason was that one of my childhood friends had hazel eyes, and I had always been jealous of Indians with light-colored eyes. I suppose I was also influenced by the fact that my girlfriend at the time wore colored contacts, as well. Sure enough, she dug my "new eye color," as did a few other people. I think it was my second day trying them out, when a random cashier at Randall's told me that I had beautiful eyes. People who didn't know me had to stand really close to be able to tell that it wasn't my natural eye color.

The next girl that I really dated didn't seem to care at all what color my eyes were. That was good, because the colored contacts irritated my eyes alot more, and caused them to turn red. After I broke up with her, though, I got bored of having dark-colored eyes again. This time I thought I'd try grey (again, something that I had seen my first girlfriend do). Although this new color was quite obviously fake to any observer, it also attracted alot of attention from girls. And as you know, I'm an attention whore. Unfortunately, my optometrist screwed up my prescription and ordered clear contacts, instead.

I finally settled on grey contacts, last month. This was based mostly on my feeling that they irritated my eyes less than the hazel contacts. As a slight downside, a couple of my guy friends are freaked out by my eyes being a different color from what they're used to.

I'm Unbreakable

To continue my series of bad nights, I have one that took place just over three years ago. It was almost midnight, and I needed to drop my girlfriend off at her place. For whatever reason, I decided to get on Westpark and take it all the way instead of getting on 59 North. Well, I get to the part where Westpark crosses under the Inner Loop and I'm only going about 35 mph (I wasn't in any big hurry). At the on ramp to 610 there's no lights of any kind, not even a traffic light. I guess that's why the chick in the bright red Acura CL thought that she didn't have to yield to oncoming traffic, as she swerved out in front of me to make a left turn. I braked as hard as I could, but I still hit her passenger door pretty hard. I got out of the car to talk to her, but then had to go back to the glove compartment to get pencil and paper - so that I could write down her insurance information. Unfortunately for me, she took that opportunity to speed off. I guess I should've just memorized her information.

My car is totalled at this point; the insurance company would tell me later that the car was now worth about $400. At first I decided that I would wait for the Harris County police to show up, so that I could file a report at the scene. Unfortunately, I waited about an hour and a half and no one showed up. Amazingly enough, during that time the Bellaire Police drove by me three times asking me if I needed help. Unfortunately the accident occurred outside of their jurisdiction, and they were not able to do anything for me. As I was having my car towed back home, I passed by a Stop&Go that had a couple police cars parked outside. I'm sure that doesn't reinforce the stereotype of fat, lazy cops eating doughnuts all the time. No, not at all.

At the risk of going off-topic, my parents actually had my g/f sleep in a separate bed. Who are you fooling, people? Anyways, the next morning my thumb was throbbing. It did not hurt, per se, but my parents dragged me to the emergency room anyways. My thumb was broken, which was strange to me considering the fact that I'd never broken a bone before. It turns out that at the time of impact, my hand had struck the steering wheel rather hard. The doctor set me up to see a specialist a week later, and made me wear a splint until then.

The orthopedist gave me a cast to wear for the next five weeks. That was more than enough time for my thumb to atrophy; sweet. Fortunately, it healed on its own and I did not have to have any kind of surgery. All in all I would say that I came out ahead, as my medical bills totalled to less than $1300 whereas my car had suffered exactly $3000 worth of damages. Take that, Japanese automotive industry!