Holy cow! I can’t believe it was November when I last updated. Even more: I can’t believe it’s already February. Many have commented on this subject before me, but it never ceases to amaze me how quickly time seems to fly by. Even now that I am cognizant of days passing, there doesn’t seem to be enough time in the day to get everything done and do all that I want to do.
February is upon us, and February means RPM. Nate and I are working on recording an album, the reason for which I finally found the motivation to finish setting up the recording gear upstairs. Now all I have to do is learn how to use Protools. From past experience, I know the best way for me to learn is to jump in headfirst and ask questions as I go. It may be a glorious disaster of a train wreck, but I already know more about recording set up in the past three days than I managed to learn in all the other years I was surrounded by knowledgeable musicians. It serves me right, in my humble opinion, that I’m having mini-meltdowns now. Serves. Me. Right. That’s what you get when you’re a silly diva and you let your band do all the work when you’re young.
Quitting smoking went off without a hitch, and on days when I am not being ravaged by Texas-sized allergies, I am pleased to note that I have regained some range and clarity in my voice. I know I’ll never be the mezzo-soprano I was in my early twenties, but I might actually have a fighting chance to get some of that high range back I’ve been missing for the past five years. Nice.
In other news, I have started a work-trade agreement with my lovely friend, Suzanne, who’s a hard-body, hotmamma fitness buff for whom I’m building a logo. In return she is kicking my ass thoroughly. At the current moment, my legs are on fire and I think I’ve torn something in my nethers. Hopefully this pain will result in some gain of hotness or at least loss of weight and tone of muscle, but right now I’m pretty miserable and I want a goddamned cupcake. That said, it’s pleasing to stretch the muscles and feel that burn after all these years. Even now at the beginning, I feel a surge of energy and the sense that I want to leap tall obstacles and run through forests with wild creatures bounding alongside me. In time, grasshoppah.
My motivation for wanting to get fit is some of unhappiness with body image, clothes not fitting, a general sense of being unwell due to lack of fitness; that’s 60%. The remaining forty percent is for this. If ever there was a more pookish fitness/athletic event, I surely haven’t seen it. So this is my ultimate goal, and all things considered, being able to run a 5K after a year of training is definitely attainable.
It may be abrupt, but that’s all I got for today.
You stay classy, now.