November 16, 2012

Of clubs, running, and zombies.

Operation "Clean that Freaking House" (the working title for every single weekend of my life) is going really well. Actually, after the three day weekend it's been going splendidly indeed. If you ignore the fact that I have five loads (yes, there are only two of us...) of laundry to fold and have been completely neglecting in order to knit for myself while watching zombie shows and Glee, our house is basically clean. Clean! That means that the only goal I have for myself this weekend is to fold laundry. Once I'm done knitting my scarf, that is. That, my friends, is the secret to happiness.

I won tickets last week to seem Diamond Rings tonight at a local club. I can count the number of songs I know by him on one finger. I can also count the number of times of been to clubs on less than three fingers. Because I've been 2 1/2 times. (One wasn't really a club, it was more of a pub turned into a club for the evening. And I was wearing full out winter gear. We're talking fuzzy boots and everything. How club-tastic!)

I'm taking my lovely friend Stephanie who has, incidentally, been with me for every other club experience of my life. Go figure. She might be my awkward clubbing security blanket.

The thing is, clubs are out of my comfort zone. I have no clue what to wear. Since it's November, I am fully into the cardigan, scarf, boot, wooly sock, and occasional toque kind of clothing. Because I'm West coast like that. Last time I tried to wear a cardigan to a club I was told to coat check it. Bye bye protective shell...

I think I've got it figured out that I'm going to just wear jeans (woo! pockets!) and a tank top and deal. And by deal I mean feel like an old person. Because 24 is clearly really old. Seriously, when I found out it was an early show (doors at 7, curfew at 10) I might have wanted to click my heels together. Steph may be one of my favourite people, but I might be having a love affair with myself, my knitting, and my television. I guess Karl's around somewhere, too.

Going to bed at a reasonable time tonight is actually imperative to my weekend plans. Even though cleaning is not anywhere on the priority list (neither is making dinner, for the record. Thanks to Twitter, I now feel no guilt in eating bean dip and salsa for dinner. I am freaking addicted to my bean dip. Because I'm awesome and it is too.), tomorrow I have a massage at 11. My second, real RMT massage. Bring it. It's also 80% covered by my benefits. Before my massage, though, because I hate myself, I'm going for a run.

I didn't run on Wednesday like I planned, and haven't since Monday. I figure if I'm not feeling well, running is not going to help or go well. I need to be realistic. I'm really worried, though. I know I'll survive tomorrow's run (once I drag myself out of bed at 9), but it's my first run 5, walk 3 and repeat three times run. Three 5 minute runs. I've done two 3s and two 5s together, but I'm worried that five full days off is going to really kill me tomorrow. I'm also worried because this is the first week my running program steps it up. I stop doing repeats of the same run 3 times in a week. The next run  involves two 8 minute runs (the longest I ever made it to running before. Ever. In my whole entire life) along with one 5. Then, and I cringe to think of it even though I know it's been coming for weeks, is a full 20 minute run.

So that's what's happening with me soon. Pretty much death. It's okay, though, because if I do survive my 20 minute run I will basically be ready for anything that life throws at me. You know, like a zombie apocalypse. Assuming my immune system holds out (which it should because I take a lot of Echinacea and Vitamin C) I'll be able to outrun any zombies that come my way. Even with my slow run those suckers aren't going to get anywhere fast. We also have an impressive stock of toothpaste and toilet paper in our laundry room to barter for protection.

I think I'm digressing...

To recap: I'm going out tonight and am unsure what appropriate wear is (I even thought of raiding my mom's closet for a brief moment until I realized she's even older than I am); I am going to run longer than I want to, earlier than I want to, and do it all in the name of showering before a stranger touches my naked back; I am also going to survive a zombie apocalypse because I know the rules, have laser vision, and can outrun the rotting walking dead.

That is all.

Enjoy your weekend!

1 comment:

  1. I can relate - I HATE late-night things. Last year some friends wanted to have a New Years Eve party. STARTING AT 11PM.

    He-double-hockeysticks NO.


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