Running: Day one

I told myself when I came back from college that I would pick up running, or at least jogging, in order to stay in shape. Throughout high school I had conditioned with Squash training and Ice Hockey. In squash, I was predicted to go to college on a scholarship (before moving to Indiana [dreamcrush!]). With Hockey, I had a, uh, "Old School" coach who looked like a WWE wrestler, but older and in better overall shape. All that said, I trained pretty hard, and by the end of Senior year, I was in pretty damn good shape.

Then I went to college and didn't exercise seriously once, aside from the spare unicycle ride. I still ate healthy, slept well enough, and walked at least 5 miles every day, so I don't imagine I got terribly out of shape. That is false.

Tomorrow, I thought whimsically yesterday, tomorrow I shall go for a run! Man I am an idiot.

I woke up at 10, got out of bed at noon, and prepared for my run. NextDraft pointed me to a good article about long-distance running, which motivated me to go.

OK, I told myself. I live at 126th street. I am going to run 1 mile to 116th street, then walk back. Sounds like a good plan, shouldn't be too hard, I lied to myself.

I put on my athletic shorts, found a pair of running shoes buried depressingly deep in my closet. I hoisted my socks up high and proud, put in some earbuds, grabbed my FitBit, and walked to the intersection. I started a light run.

Shit, which leg first? Oh damn, ow! F***! I forgot to stretch! Are my legs different heights? Why am I leaning to the left? I think there is something in my shoe. My hamstrings hurt. My throat hurts. How do I breath? Should I be just breathing through my mouth? Lemme try my nose. Shit, not enough air. In nose out mouth? Nope. What? Frack! How do I do this? My arms are cramping up. My elbows are solid, should I be swinging? (Here goes a fit mom, she seems to be having no trouble at all). I watch the fit mom for technique ideas. She smiles at me as we jog past each other, she probably thought I was a pervert. But arm movement isn't critical, although I am bent over way too much. Damn slouching posture! I probably look like a grandfather attempting to flee from a home while having an asthma attack. How do people do this to themselves? I could be in my computer nest, trying to make music or practicing juggling or... doing any god damn thing else. The worst thing was when a stitch hit. These are diaphram muscle spazms that I had been plauged with during middle school Gym classes, but took a leave of absence in High School. Nope, I still got them. They are caused by my internal organs bouncing up and down and straining my other internal parts. THAT ISN'T GOOD. (Now, as I look into the issue, I realize my breathing is entirely at fault). I considered giving up, and passing out on the side of the road - or worse, picturing my old coach yelling at me. He once skated me until my legs literally gave out and I collapsed on the ice, he is a dangerously good motivator. Just as I was contemplating my options, I realized I was only 100 or so feet from the end. oh. I thought. I can do that.

I ran the mile in almost exactly 7 minutes. Oh. Not actually that bad.



I walked around, crossed the street, walked a bit, and got myself motivated. Actually I lied to myself I am feeling pretty good. I have certainly felt worse, with more in front of me. Lets do this. Lets jog back! Judging by my pace, and the music I was listening to, I ran .3 -.6 miles. Probably just under half a mile back. This latter attempt was a mistake. I felt like my sides were tearing open and being stabbed by small pointy things (concurrently). My throat decided that it would dry out, I started coughing. I felt like I was going to throw up - I think I even dry heaved a few times. When I knew I wouldn't make it, I set a visible goal (that mailbox!) and let myself stop there. Even this was too far, by any health nut's standard. My body reported it was considering giving up on my brain, which was able to keep itself motivated and kept the legs moving (a la old Coach). But just because my legs would listen to my brain doesn't mean any other part would. Stomach: "I hate you" Mouth: "nope" Lungs: "Good luck breathing without me, jerk!" . Walking back, I stopped twice for air, but forced myself to at least w

 

alk. I regretted not moving to a land filled with benches and water fountains. Walking back, the song Woody Woodpecker by Dan Deacon came on, taunting me further. As I was dealing with being laughed at continually by my music, I passed a small group of healthy-lifestyle 20 somethings from my neighborhood. One of them got a laugh at my pain. I could feel their judgement, burning at me.

I ripped off my sweaty shirt before I even got in my door, which due to collapse, I opened using primarily my face. I looked like the 'after' portrait on a TV commercial advertising gang rape. I climbed up (damn) stairs and collapsed.

 

Do it again tomorrow? Sounds like a plan!

Off to College

I am off to college tomorrow, entering the graduating class of 2015. And how do I feel? In a word: Unprepared.

 

Not just emotionally, not-ready-to-say-goodbye, unprepared. I mean: I still need to pack!

Hot Sauce

I just had some of Dave's Gourmet Ultimate Insanity Sauce. Before actually putting it on my firehouse steak and cheese, I tried to smell some. I couldn't really smell anything, as my nose is disfunctional. I ended up getting a small hitler-mustache of the stuff on my upper lip without realizing it. I could not smell it, but I felt it burning my skin a few minutes later. The actual taste was pretty good, I had one largish drop (cm wide) on the sandwich, and it was, for lack of a better word, spicty. Very spicy. Burning the insides of my mouth spicy. But before that kicked in, It actually tasted pretty good I give the sauce a painfully delicious thumbs up, and I will be trying it again.

Also, I have to remember not to rub my eyes.

Damn friends

All of my friends are asleep, so I let myself be dropped off at the darien public library. This is the second time I have been in the new one, and it kicks serious ass. I wish I had my chromebook, yet to be purchased, so I could write on a legitimate keyboard. My phone is not decent enough, and I am going to atop writing this post. Because I am lazy.

I like cold

I can't do hot. The current temperature is 95, and its been above 93 all week. I am dying. I can't handle the heat. All winter long, I would walk outside with Isaiah Clark. He would put on a fourth layer, I would remain in my T-shirt, and we would exchange equevalent glances: really?

Hockey conditioned me for cold. After you have showered in below freezing water- literally forming Ice by the drain - after doing that somewhat regularly, nothing else seems cold. Sure, I may shiver or get goosebumbps or chatter my teeth, but you wont hear my complain about it! Because it could always be colder. I'm just used to it.

But ... Its fucking hot!

College. Uhhhh.... yeah

Huh school is done with, except for graduation ceremony and all that good Stuff. I've applied housing preferences at depauw but little else. My sister, purdue, is getting back housing info and such. ITAP honors program has me go on campus a few days early, but I don't have any info. I have no I to for anything, and don't know what I should be doing.

So I am going to ignore the problem, naturally, and enjoy my summer and these 8000 open houses.

Writing down every damn thought

My friend and I are toying with the idea of creating some sketch comedy pieces. He had previously (ok, still does) consider the genre a dirty style of comedy, but I pointed out that it isn’t dirty. Only concise. I am wary to do it because I am a perfectionist and I don’t want to make crap.
But we probably will, which leads us to our next problem. The ideas. We have them already, but will always have more. I have one central collection notebook which acts as a fishing net for all of my ideas and such. Stefan uses some app on his IPhone. But going thru my notebooks, it was very annoying to filter the different ideas. So from here on out I am carrying a second (lighter, thinner, paperback) notebook (moleskin, of course) to take comedy notes down while other notes go in the reporter style notebook as always. I have rocked separate notebooks before, when I carried ‘the list’ which is a list of movies that I want to see, reminding myself.
As for the sketches, we will try and balance strait up sketches with more vloggy, sitcomy, play ourselves-ey, humor, which also there are lots of ideas for. It should be very funny, but can we master lighting, camera work, editing, and make it look good?

I turned 18

Well, I have done it. I have survived for 18 years, and a day. About. I never thought I would get this far. That isn’t a morbid thought, it’s just I have trouble thinking about the future in anything more than broad ‘I will be in college, whoa!’ sense. It’s a surprise that I am still here.
So do I feel more mature? Older? More awesome? Short answer: No. I will enjoy my privileges Thursday nights while hanging out at a Bdubs. They try and make us require parental guardians. Well, fuck you! I’m 18 now! Ha-ha! Sticking it to the man!
As far as gift go, I now have 2 24” monitors, as opposed to a 24” and a 19”. It’s a nice change. I got steam balance I have yet to spend, and some cheap juggling clubs. Think bowling pins. I can not wait to continue practicing with the clubs. Juggling them makes me feel like a juggler, a performer. It is a good feeling.
One of the reasons juggling is so impressive is because anyone can do it. Nobody hasn’t once held a ball in their hands, and tossed it in the air. Us jugglers just take this to an extreme. I agree, It’s pretty awesome. Clubs are more for performing, while ball juggling is more for skill. Now, it is all for performing, but juggling balls one has to develop their skills to surpass other jugglers, focusing on the talent aspect. The talent aspect is why I like it so much. Club juggling is more for performing. It obviously requires talent, that’s why its awesome, It is much more visual than ball juggling. To put it in other words, it’s the mindset of the juggler. When inventing new ball tricks, they are layering patterns in new and interesting ways. When inventing club tricks, its just “What would look cool”. This isn’t perfect (it isn’t dipolar), but I am moving on.
I am going skydiving! I don’t know where or when, but that’s pretty motherflipping awesome. I will also learn how to fly. Also don’t have logistics of it, but…yeah.

Church Time

My memory of church isn’t a pleasant one. This  isn’t for any legitimately unpleasant reason (arguably) its just that I stopped going to church in about sixth grade. Being what all except probably myself would consider a child at the time, I took advantage of my god-given whining ability to complain for hours on end and absolutely hated church. I bet I went most often in fourth grade.
This is an average church procedure:
Wake up at an obscenely early hour for the weekend, If not for church I would be sleeping back to the single digits of the day. I would be woken up by my mom. My mother, I will note, hated going to church as much as I did but was compelled by religious burst of her husband that roughly coincide with his calls back to family. Then it put on uncomfortable and ill fitting clothes. After presenting self to family, go back and put on even more uncomfortable and ill-er fitting clothes that also now restrict airflow to that of ferret. So we finally are crusaded into the suburban, and off to church we go! woo! After struggling to find a parking spot – we were the last ones regularly – we would find a seat behind the overeager singers and adjacent to an entire family with gastrointestinal issue. During the preceding, the (what do you call him?) dude reading from the book would tell us to stand up. Then sit down. Then stand up. Then kneel. Now stand again, ok sitting time. Just kidding, stand your ass back up. I think he is messing with us. Probably punishment for not showing up often enough. Why is it my legs get very tired during church but I just spent 2 hours standing while practicing juggling just fine? What is this? Church just makes you tired. and bored. I will probably become very intimate with one of the stained glass murals. I may also study the strange outfits of people, or try and count the number of sneezes/coughs as a test of my hearing. I was bored. I think at one point we all shuffled to get our snacks. Waiting for this moment (did he just say ‘this is my blood’? Here it comes!) is ultimately disappointing. Any attempts to save or christbody is fruitless, because saliva dissolves starch. Still tried every time. Also, the christblood was legit wine, so that’s was cool. After what eventually degraded into naptime, The kids would leave to have their own instructional time. What the adults did could only be speculated. One kid thought orgy, but only because he heard someone else (yes, older) say it about a party and thought it was a party game. I always believed that at this point, the charade would be lifted and church would stop being boring. That all of the boring stuff the adults sat through as a secret way of torturing us for all those years of leaving popsicles places or asking them to hold things for us. During this time I would chat with Emily Knebel, my third grade sweetheart. I wonder where she went? Maybe this post will pop up if she ever searches for her name. If so, email me Emily! hunter@hdyar.com! Tokeneke Elementary, St. Luke’s parish, you know if its you! (edit: I found her and we are penpal-ing it up)
(ed: I think I found her, but I deleted my Facebook and cant dig deeper. Ok, stop stalking, resume church rant)
I actually can’t remember what else I did. We played games and losers lost because they didn’t love Jesus enough, or something like that. I would head home and strip off the agonizingly irritating clothes and probably spend the rest of the day in just my boxers, cus, you know, putting on pants is way too much effort.

DePauw

My decision on which college to attend next year has been, well, decided.

My life is funny

I was showing some people the drafts on my book, a collection of humorist, er.. articles, and they asked me where I come up with the ideas. I pulled out the notebook and said ‘from here’. This, of course, did not answer their question. Where do you get the ideas you write in the notebook? I looked at them quizzically and pointed all around me.

You are my source of material. Life. Everything around me. I see a goose laying nest in a trashcan in front of a blockbusters. That’s funny. Nobody is going to disturb the bird. in front of a blockbuster.

Or this conversation (IM) with a friend who is having girl problems

ME: but take solace this fact
ME: many girls are out there wondering why no guys seem interested in her
William: Lies, I am sure.

My girlfriends mom asks her girlfriend “Hunter is just one of those people that is always laughing, isn’t he?”

Yeah, I suppose that’s perfectly apt. Look at the world and laugh with it. If you can’t laugh with it, laugh at it.

Cake/Prom Follow up

Bake an 9” Cookie. Repeat. (5x)
Stack 5 of these cookies with icing in between layers.
Put “Prom?” with sour gummy worms on top.
Bake delicious, delicious, ineffably delicious truffles (funfetti ones!)
Try not to eat all of the truffles.
Bring cake in box to dinner where girl is at, bring friends.
Girl doesn’t notice box with cake. Perfect. Dinner ensues.
Plates un-cleared, No room on table everyone stands to leave… present cake at later date. Return to house.
Spend 30 minutes wrangling friends into TV-room.
Get movie going (It’s kind of a funny story)
Ask if anyone wants drinks, food. Friend says desert. Girl says “desert? What do you have?”. I’ll show you.
Return with box. Girl never saw it at dinner, so it’s safe.
Girl distracted by other friend. Wait patiently.
Wait more patiently.
Open lid of box. Present cookie-cake, truffles, prom?
Yes!
Watch movie.

More Paranoia Postings

Before I get into that just want to update that I am making progress on the couple of card/board games I am designing. Fun stuff.

I keep a notebook with me on all times. This is because it is useful to have on me. Recently, a friend asked me why. I told him it is useful to have on me. He said “ok, but why?”. Good question. After some meditating, I realized it comes back to my paranoia. In truth, me memory is not that bad. If I come up with the idea to bake a bacon-cake (whatever that means) or a mechanism for a card game, most likely, I will be able to remember it later. But that isn’t one hundred percent. How many ideas do I have that I forget? The first step is logging. In fact, the simple act of writing things down, making an action on the thought, usually is all that’s required to help me remember. That is partly why I don’t have an organizational system with the notebook. No sections for ‘food ideas’ or ‘game ideas’ or ‘story ideas’ or ‘doodles'. The system is organized by date. As in, I write whatever it is at the farthest point in the moleskin. (Has to be moleskin). Flipping through the notebook later is very eclectic, and – while reminding me of some beautiful things, such as shark-ta-squid, mostly its things I already remembered and acted on. But there it is, in my notebook, archived for all time. Additionally, many ideas, such as song lyrics or story ideas, get put in the cloud. I have a very large collection of Google Docs documents. Am I going to forget everything? Anything? Without the notebook, maybe. With, no. If I lose the notebook, which I have before, I figure things out.

Anyway, I keep a notebook with me at all times, because it is useful.

Every Day Carry

My EDC as of now:

As for paranoid induced survival:

• Leatherman Black Oxide Surge Multi-tool
• Swiss Army Knife
• Leatherman Straight/Serrated blade Drop-point Knife

General EDC, or when at school (no knifes allowed):

• Fisher Price Spacepen
• Sharpie Pen
• Moleskin Reporter style black notebook
• Swiss army brand tri-fold wallet
• ‘Lucky’ Dollar coin
• Cell Phone
• Small Notebook with school’s class schedule glued on. Used for school assignments
• Class Ring
• Fossil Watch with broken face
• Car Keys on lanyard, with multi-key-tool, USB drive
• A daisy chained length of 550/Para Cord, length about 2.5 feet, maybe 7 inches in chain.
• Sailors Bracelet (have had one of these on for the past 7 years. Haven't gone one minute without it – I put new one on before cutting old one. Been through 3 in the 7 years)

Sometimes on me

• My mp3 player (an XMp3i) – too much of a hassle to have with me, I want better music solution, a better phone could do the trick. Works great in dock, I am too addicted to XM.
• Sunglasses/my aviators.
• Hat, gloves, etc.
• Harmonica in pocket. I swear I will practice more.
• Deck of cards – used surprisingly often
• Nook. for reading books.
• Book. for when Nook is out of juice
• Crumpled post-it note in pocket reminding me to do something deathly important.
• Chinking Coins
• Titanium Spork. Yes.

Want-to-but-Don’t. Things I wish I had on me at all times but don’t

• A small, tough flashlight – haven't found a good one, often bulky/heavy in pocket.
• My aviator ‘driving’ sunglasses. Afraid I will break them, too bulky to have on me, not needed enough. Leaving in car works well enough 97% of use is when driving.
• Cash. (awww, I’m broke!)
• Camera. The times I see something I want to take a picture of but can’t. Cell phone will not cut it! Damn!
• Lighter – not enough use for it.

The Home Stretch, or senioritis is upon us.

I don’t know about you, but I am a second semester senior who’s life has been filled with nothing but COLLEGE! stuff for the past for months. That is the cause of ‘senioritis’. College. Focusing on nothing but college for a few months, then having to turn back around to high school is impossible. Either a student is already in to college, and does not care, or they are just waiting to hear from colleges. High school life is behind us. But we still have this last semester, this last set of tests, classes and work to focus on. Yeah right! Senioritis is not this laughable condition of students who no longer care. Its what happens when you focus on the next step in your life for months strait, stressing oneself out and freaking oneself out regularly, and then suddenly stopping. I am not going to care, are you?

So this is me, two days into my second semester, wanting out. I want to be somewhere new, meet people, have fun, do something different. But whatever. Right now I am going to focus on classes that interest me, such as this intro to psych class I am in. The less interesting classes that frankly don’t matter. They might slide. I will do my best to keep them out of the C and certainly the D range, but you know what? I am definitely not going to kill myself over it. It is time to move on, and go to college. In a bit.

On a similar note, I do need to make the best of what time is left with my friends. Only when I am with them am I sad of the approaching eminent end of the era.

Mild Paranoia

I have come to the conclusion that I have mild paranoia. Not legitimate paranoia, but paranoia of a sort. Amateur paranoia. Chronic Nervousness.

I have discovered this not because of a constant nervousness that plagues my brain, but rather, the means in which I prevent this from happening. It is not secret to anyone who knows me that I keep a knife on me at all times. During school, its just a small one in my backpack. Waiting in the car is a Leatherman ready to be fastened to my waist, where It will remain until society says ‘no knifes here’. Most people think it’s a cell-phone belt clip, and this avoids awkward situations.

It was only recently when a friend asked me why I kept one with me. “I don’t know” I replied. “Just in case. . . I mean, you never know.” My friend was not content with this as an answer, and he was really the one who came to the conclusion that I am a paranoid. “Dude, nothing bad will happen!” It was the conversation between us that forced me to enter my own mind and figure out why I have to have this protection on me. Knives and 550-cord are on my body at nearly all times! I came to the conclusion that the heavy multi-tool obstructing things and weighing down my belt makes me confortable. I am more comfortable when I have it than when I don’t. Therefore, I wear it. Besides, it is still a useful thing to have with you. As a person who likes to spend time studying and ‘hacking’ their own brain, I was curious if I could figure out a way to wean myself off of the knife habit. A bit more thinking led me to the conclusion that It wasn’t worth it. There is nothing socially wrong with having a knife on you, and if it makes me confortable, than that’s all right.

Breathe Deeply

Finals have finished. Junior year of high school has finished. It is done. Complete. Kaput. Ceased. Ended. Shut down. Terminated. Over. oh wait. never mind. I have SAT's on Saturday. Right now my only wish is to get tickets to see Phish in august. And CAKE in July. and don't forget Bonnaroo! oh crap, looks like bonnaroo may not happen. Or maybe it will. Whatevs man.

So what does officially being on summer mean? It means I have something good to write for Things That Are Win. I suppose. It also means sleep. glorious, fantastic, unused sleep.

What else is there to say? Without flash builder on Linux, there is little for me to do right now. Ever notice how switching an IDE is difficult? I can't leave Dreamweaver for webdesign. Anybody know any way to get cs5 with both upgrade and student discounts?

Inside of Finals

Finals, the glorious, stress filled time filled with angry repartee's and disgruntled sweatpants. Oh joy. Finals will end Thursday, and - as you can tell by reading these words, My studying is going splendid. I finished english, my supposedly stress-free final. In other words, my teacher only assigned it because she was forced to, not to have an impact on our grades. I wrote an essay about the movie Moon; Which was fine. Now I have to study for math and spanish.

After tomorrow I will never speak Spanish or associate myself with spanish culture ever again, unless I am physically inside of Spain. Hoo-Rah. So close, 6 years of my life, 4 hours a week, about to come to an end.  Hallelujah! Praise whoever! 

In reading my notebook news, I ostensibly want to create "memepedia" or "wiki-meme". I wrote the idea (a wiki of meme information) down at 4:32 last night (I had the forethought of time-stamping it, apparently). After some conscious thought on the matter, It would be a great idea. A completely free resource and user driven reference for internet culture. Problems: I don't 4chan, and I would need to advertise it. To the inter-tubes! I will work it out after finals. For now, I am going to take a 15 minute catnap, hopefully recharging my brain. Hopefully not falling asleep.