We've all done it: started a new project or picked up a new hobby or past-time and made grand plans to make it part of our lives, and yet a few weeks down the track it's been abandoned like an old onion bagel. What is it, exactly, that makes it so hard for us to stick at something, particularly when you know that that 'something' is good for you, like running or stopping drinking alone on Tuesdays?
First full day in Ubud. It is as hot, noisy and entirely engulfing as you may have read, heard and/or seen. The beginning of this two week, entirely self-indulgent jaunt has been kicked off with
and I'm really looking forward to it! Yey. if you've never heard of them before and would like to hear what they sound like here's a preview: They're playing at the Corner Hotel in Richmond.
And now I've just gotten back from a run. On this run I started out and my feet were heavy, my muscles tight, my breath came ragged. I persevered, and though my body was hurting the sorest part of my running experience was my mind. It bitched and griped and asked me all sorts of … Continue reading Update:
A rush of blood to the feet. a whoosh as a train slams past you and out of habit or maybe just because you can't trust anyone, really, you always brace your feet against the platform lest some crazy man or woman comes up behind you in the perfect act of hatred and pushes you into the path of a racing train. Has it ever happened?
MY BLOODY MARY ARTICLE ON CONCRETE PLAYGROUND
Hey. I'm sorry. I feel like I've been neglecting you. What with having so much stuff on in the past few weeks everything has kinda slipped by the wayside. I want to make it up to you though, so I figured I'd treat you with a piccie-laden post to make up for my poor form … Continue reading AWARD, a cat, a new knee and me!
I'm seriously craving a Monte Carlo biscuit right now... Wait, whaddya mean 'What's a Monte Carlo'? You know the ones. You used to get them when you were at kid at your aunt's house and you could squeeeeze the two sides together and push the cream out the side. The cream looked like worms and then … Continue reading What’s Your Biscuit?
sansparoles 