The arms are sore. Playing badminton last Saturday after a month of inactivity, and playing with Coach Graze and Wonderkid Toni of all people--that's a surefire way to get your body all aching. Almost pulled a hamstring running around, but fortunately, the legs are in better shape. The arms and wrist took the brunt of the trauma (okay, okay, so I didn't s-t-r-e-t-c-h for the requisite fifteen to twenty minutes). But it was a whole lot of fun. Dang this work, nakakasira ng badminton.
The back was sore last Sunday, because I had fallen asleep on Bespren J's couch. We came from zeester#1's boyfriend's birthday at Grilla, where I saw little girl in heavy makeup Heart Evangelista, wandering all over in search of a spot to take her phone call. I wanted to go up to her and say, dear, it's noisy everywhere here, you might want to go outside. We old fogies left early, took out tea from Starbucks (old fogies talaga!) and chatted away at Bespren J's house, where we watched the Kontrobersyal (?) feature on the internet-sex den, and then tried to wait up for the replay of Coupling, in vain. I had to go home before I was too sleepy to drive.
The wallet is sore. Dang that Midnight Madness sale! Bought new cross-trainers (20% off, in the darnedest place, Cinderella), new bedsheets (30% off, at Woman; since zeester#1 was complaining that one of my sets was icky) and Christmas gifts. Why do I have to love giving Christmas gifts? Why do I have so many godchildren? Why, why, why?
The stomach is sore. Lots of cake, lots of crabs (as in the shellfish kind). Not a good combination. The mother-unit's birthday gig was at Red Crab, with the daughters, the hoping-to-be-future-sons-in-law (none with me), and the adopted sons. Was fun eating with your hands, although it was really really messy. And it was really good barbecue crab, mind you.
Am a little sore that I just got to watch The Incredibles last Sunday night. As J. texted, I "usually watch those stuff waaay before everyone else". Well, not this time. Bespren M and Kalila were chattering happily away about Violet and Dash last week at the baby shower. Oh well. I finally got to watch it. Was quite entertained, although it was no Finding Nemo. Still, I would get a DVD. At the same time, I was wondering what the heck I was doing there with that specific person. Was it a regular movie-date (which it was not, not really)? Was it a pity-date (on whose side, I wonder)? Was it really just two friends going out for a movie? Yes, it was that. At this point I don't want to think it was anything more.
And finally am a little sore at J. I'm not sure if he's avoiding me, or if he's really just super-duper-busy (which I think he is, also--although I am a proponent of the make-time-for-your-friends school of thought). Maybe it's really just a matter of wrong timing. In any case, I don't think I'll be dropping him a line anytime soon.
Last Song Syndrome : Limp - Fiona Apple