I find it incredible that no matter how much cardio I incorporate into my life and no matter how many times I visit the gym, I still feel like I’m on the verge of a heart attack if I run to catch the bus.
First of all, I realize that some of you aren't "lucky" enough to have public transportation play an integral role in your life. When you don’t have a car, or even if you do, but you rely on public transportation for the important stuff -- like getting you to work -- you learn quickly that you are slave to it. Your life and your ability to be on time, or even just not unreasonably late, are forever bound to the bus or train and its ability to be on time or just not unreasonably late. This is why, when you see a bus or hear the train, you run. You run like hell to catch that damn bus or train.
Like I did… this morning. Sure I was carrying my purse and gym bag, I was wearing ballet flats, and while I wouldn’t say I was sprinting, I was probably moving a little faster than I usually do when out for a jog. I ran four blocks and managed to catch the bus, two stops later, panting and sweating, my mouth dry and my heart pounding. And, I think that I can run a marathon.
I am starting to believe that the truest tests of physical fitness are bus chasing and stair climbing. I smell a biathlon…
Don’t you love it when people at work decide to treat the other people at work like children? Recently, someone posted a sign in each stall in the women’s restroom reminding us to be courteous of others and to not flush paper towels and similarly condescending kindergarten-ish reminders: If you make a mess, clean it up.
I mean seriously, we’re all adults here… Do we not know what to do with a toilet at this point? Do we not understand what is appropriate bathroom etiquette, and what is not? What really bugs me about the sign is that I have no idea who hung it there, but I have the sneaking suspicion that it was typed out, laminated, and stuck in each stall by another coworker on my floor who simply has too much time and too much interest in the bathroom. Perhaps they need some blogs to read?
I wrote the other day that I have missed my writing class two weeks in a row. Finally, last night I set aside my shame and attempted to right my wrongs. I emailed the instructor explaining that I had missed the last class, and could she please send me the assignment so I can be prepared for this Sunday. Yes, I blatantly failed to mention that I had actually missed two classes, not one. She wrote back:
Thank you for writing to me. Why not bring in your dialogue from this past week and we'll take it from there?Oh the shame. What dialogue? I wrote her back:
Unfortunately, I missed the class prior to last Sunday too because I was out of town on business. So I don't know what that assignment was either. I'm sorry; could you send that to me as well? The first assignment I have was for the monologue.Gravel, gravel. She responded quickly:
Okay: Write 10-15 lines of dialogue exploring comic character: pov, wants, reactions, subtext.Without the benefit of class hours you'll just have to wing it.Wing it? Let’s be honest, if there’s one thing I do not know how to write it’s dialogue. Perhaps if I hadn’t been so hell-bent on taking personal essay non-fiction courses in college (because all I’ve ever wanted to write about is me, me, and more me), I’d be in a bit better shape.
I’m hoping the Internets will be able to help me out with some tips, or maybe step-by-steps instructions titled, “How to explore a comic character through dialogue.” So far, my Googling has been fruitless.
According to my email, there are 23 days until the Flying Pig.