pretty colors

My toe freaking hurts. As in, walking is difficult, putting pressure on it is painful, and this could be a very big problem considering I'm supposed to go out for 4 hours tomorrow with a tape measurer and measure a gas compressor (or some big construction project like that).

I don't even know how I hurt it. I totally didn't notice until we were done sparring and then I started writhing on the ground. I must've hit something really hard, like his elbow. Mmph. It feel dislocated.

I've decided that working out is the cure to all things. If you're sore and you work out, it sucks but the net result is you're unsore. If you're poopy and you work out and sweat hard, you forget that you're poopy. If you're tired and you train, it gets oxygen pumping and blood flowing. And if you're sick and you suck it up and work out, you just might get better. So, much like Greeks think Windex is the magical cure (ref: mbfgw) - I think going to dojang is my universal cure. And for everything else more serious than that, there's prayer. =)

It's so good they're back...YAY! No more having to teach 4 sparring classes a week. No more having to wonder who's going to be my partner. No more having to be the hardass because everyone gets all lax. On the contrary, now there's more decorum in the dj. More attention and getting to work out instead of having to think about everyone else. And best of all - more bruises! Ah...so good...

"You have to score a point on me to get me going"

"But then you're going to get mad and come after me"

"I know, that's the point"

"But I don't like it when you get mad"

Yeah well, like it or not it was going to happen. See, this is what I don't understand about men. When they get mad, they get motivated. Something about anger causes them to focus and channel their anger in productive ways. Me, if I got mad enough I think I'd just want to cry or quit. I noticed today that Adolfo and Sr were sparring and they basically just had roaring contests between them. Like one person would score a point, the other would growl, the other would respond with a roar, and so on. At one point I looked up (I was sparring Jr at the time) and looked around the room and realized I was the only person without testosterone. Hrmm, I think I'm at a severe disadvantage. Maybe they're trying to make me into a guy.

Hrmm...if I could be one of the boys...I'd be unstoppable...

But for now, I'll count my bruises and see what pretty colors pop up tomorrow...