Today was my second foray into bouldering. It started with a trip to the nail salon to get my pink and whites removed. It took over a half hour of chipping and cutting and bleeding before the lady just wrapped my fingers in acetone and tin foil to soften the gel and then sand it off. When it was all over I was about to pay and asked how much it was. "Seven dollars." And I'm all, "No that's ridiculous. Seven freaking dollars for an hours worth of hard labor. No can do." I paid her significantly more than that despite the hour of pain and then drove to the rock gym. My nails look like crap. And now I'm readjusting to typing with the pads of my fingers instead of the tips of my nails. I get a lot more feedback from the keyboard, and it's not as noisy. I was writing an angry email about a week ago to the thieves at APlus.net with my headphones on and someone had to tap me on the shoulder to ask nicely if I could keep the percussion section at bay.

I'm getting better at the climbing thing. Already I felt stronger than before. I was able to do both easy routes I did last time all the way to the top and then I added another which I did perfectly, now I'm working on a fourth route that requires some of the "going up the wall sideways just a little" type climbing. I didn't get to the top on this brown route cause I had to give way to the shakiness that has no pain but signals that your time on the wall is just about done. The pain of course will come tomorrow. One time I was up on the wall and some kid comes over and sits on the crash pad underneath me, just chilling. And I'm calling, "Hey, NOT a good idea. NOT a good idea. oooo God. My arms are not as strong as my desire for you to live." One of the attentive workers, quickly took care of the situation and yelled at the kid on my behalf.  Stupid kid, go play in your  rope and harness swing that I want to play in, but am too afraid to ask lest I fall into an childlike state of just clapping my hands and laughing and hiccupping uncontrollably. I think, though, even in that state, I could still manage to be smart enough to not sit directly beneath some noob chick climbing a wall without a harness. Something gives me the feeling this kid doesn't have a bright future. 

I worked myself to exhaustion. Taking off my shoes and untying the double knots took a good 5 minutes because I was having a hard time moving my fingers. And my forearms did this weird thing where I can feel all the blood in them. I think this is what they call "pumped."

My calluses are coming along quite nicely as well. My upper palms are so raw right now that when I was driving home I was driving with the sides of my hands and the pads of my fingers because the upper palms felt like I had a 2nd degree sunburn. 

The people at the rock climbing place told me I probably couldn't do this sport with acrylic nails. I get fake nails every two weeks to prevent my self from tearing small holes in my skin (something I like to do when I'm stressed out or bored or thinking hard). Think of the nails as akin to that cone they put on a dog's head to prevent that dog from digging an ear out of his head. 

Such a dilemma. I can't do both, though, nails and rock climbing, cause my nails scrape the walls (loudly), I can't use my fingertips to grip, my nails get caught in crevices, and I get these strange looks from people thinking, "not your scene, princess."  And since I hate this nail look anyway, I'll probably get rid of it at the expense of my own health.  (well, actually it's like a trade. One health for other healths)

Getting fake nails to prevent bad habits is not completely abnormal. I was shopping the other day at Bare Essentuals, and the cute blonde sales lady showed me her hands, and her finger tips were basically gnawed to shreds. She says that many people have suggested that she get nails to prevent this self-destruction. I was all, "sister!! I feel your pain," and then I bought everything she asked me to buy because we had bonded so well and cause I'm starved for female friendship and cause a major part of my social life just packed her bags and moved to New York!

I'm kind of at a loss now.  Rock climbing will give me calluses which I will probably tear at, which I can prevent with long thick fake nails, which I can't have if want to climb walls and have chiseled shoulders.

As exhausted as I am, I don't know why I feel so alert and focused.  I am so wiped, I feel sick to my stomach. This weekend I ran two 5ks, rock climbed, watched a full parade, cleaned my apartment, did laundry, caught up on a few hours worth of phone calls, read an entire book, spent large sums of money at Lululemon, and now I'm writing. What's going on? Two weeks ago I was so fog-headed, all I could do was stare at lips and wonder why it was I couldn't make any of the words make sense.  The only thing that's changed lately is that now I'm flooding my system with B vitamins.  I took a couple of energy chews at work, and they worked so well, I went out and bought a couple weeks' supply.  Sometimes I'm distracted at work, and I'll just start popping them cause they're like sitting there and all, and then I'll be like "oops, I think I just ate 6 of these at 60 cents a chew." These are not Starburst even though they are just as yummy. Good thing that B vitamins are water soluble. Just like with C, you really can't have too much. You'll just pee it out, and if you have any experience peeing B vitamins, you know that it's all sorts of fun. It glows.

So the 5ks were interesting. The first one in Woodland Hills was the Optimist Dads' Day Dash. I actually was about to call my Dad for father's day, when I ended up talking to my sister instead, and she informed me that it was in fact not Dads' day yet. And I was all, "But the race said,..."

The Optimist Dads' Day Dash was superbly managed. Totally stressless experience. Though I did feel terrible for all the participants who had there cars towed. They blocked off some streets, and the police in cahoots with the towing companies are all sneaking around and rounding up vehicles. I can't imagine finishing a race, walking exhausted to my car, only to find it gone with no clue to as where it went.

I saw some cute things. The 5k and the 10k had the same start and finish line. Separated by some traffic cones. There was this one 10 year old girl in a pink running outfit finishing at the 33 minute mark on the 5k. As she was nearing the finishing stretch, one of the 10k muscled male runners was also finishing. The girl sees the man gaining on her and flat out hauls ass racing this guy to the finish line.

After the race, I went to the Arcadia Rock Gym to go bouldering.  Which is a form of rock-climbing where you don't go too very high, and you don't use ropes, and you do a lot of climbing at a slant. And not a slant in the help-you-out slant direction. It was my first time going, but I was glad I didn't pay for a lesson, because not more than 5 minutes after I started, three other climbers came over and taught me the basics and then some.  Telling me where to put my feet (on the rocks), how to jump from the wall onto the crash pads (basically lock your knees, and/or approach the ground fingers first), and how to gain a better reach (it's called flagging). They guided me step by step through a couple routes, and I couldn't have been more thrilled with what I accomplished with their help. I'm so going to be addicted to this sport.  I now have very sore legs and very sore triceps and shoulders and back. Which OF COURSE is one of the main reasons I'm starting this sport. I think rock-climbers have great bodies. And I'm also trying to overcompensate for my sedentary, indoor work life.

The 5k on Sunday was also fun. It was the LA Frontrunner's Pride Run. This run is the precursor LA Pride parade. I did this run last year as well. Last time, I got some lube in my swag bag, this year, I wasn't so lucky, only got some boring soy bar. LAME. Also, interesting about this run was that I forgot to bring my headphones, which I have a hard time running without, and last year, when I ran, my mp3 player died early on in the race. So both times I've run, I've done it without being able to drown out my breathing. 

I stayed and watched the parade. Which was of course colorful in every sense of the word. Most parades are dull, but NOT the gay ones. There are lots of drag queens, rainbow floats, and active audience participation. One of the parade groups was a HIV testing promotion group that was handing out condoms, I had a 4 year old girl, a child of one of the participants, walk up to me and with a huge, gorgeous smile, hand me a condom wrapped in red cellophane.  One of life's many speechless moments. I barely managed to choke out a thank you before she trotted off to encourage more safe sex elsewhere on Santa Monica Blvd.

Today, for the second time I went to get my eyebrows waxed during my lunch break. Every once in a while, I sneak away to get a pedicure or go buy some facial mask.  So I went to Happy Nails and Spa, cause it's the only place I know of thus far that is near work cause I'm lazy like that. So for the second time I'm getting my eyebrows waxed and in the middle of the waxing the lady asks for my phone number and email address.

The conversation went like this: ehem.

Eyebrow lady: Lie down

Me: ok

Eyebrow lady: Can I have your email address and phone number?

Me: No

Eyebrow lady: Let me wax your eyebrows in 20 seconds and then plop an unnecessary amount of cooling gel on your face.

So this place has like 20 employees running around performing services, and this lady is clearly trying to start her own thing or whatever and such. Now I'm sure this has been done, but usually after you've built a rapport with the client and the client has expressed interest in your technique as more preferable than the convenient location of the salon.  Ridiculously unprofessional. Almost as unprofessional as my hotel all the sudden instituting a new policy that ends breakfast at 9:00 instead of 9:30. I looked on yelp, and this salon has like one and a half stars. Which translated into dollars is exactly how much I tipped her.

On a side note, someone at work mentioned to me yesterday that I yawn ALOT. And I'm like, "really?" and he's like "yes, a lot. You probably don't notice." So today, I counted, and I yawned 21 times at work. And those are just the ones I noticed. I guess it's just one of my many bad work habits along with taking off my shoes and sitting on my feet then walking barefoot to the copier, and of course my coming to work after lunch sometimes with unnecessarily greasy eyebrows.

So I Googled the yawning thing and supposedly chronic yawning is a symptom of a TON lot of central nervous system disorders. Scary. I think I'm going to just type my way back over to FaceBook now. I'm going to assume for now that other symptoms would generally have to present themselves for me to have these disorders, otherwise the disorder would just be called yawning, right?

I think it's just I normally forget to breath or something. Cause I'm generally in such a passive state while I'm on the job.  I generally get enough sleep I think.  I think, I think, I think.

The other day I was shopping in downtown LA. And I'm shopping and I'm all 'hey, look there's a GAP', and suddenly I'm flat on my stomach on the concrete.  One month ago, I'm standing still in a coffee shop, shifting weight from foot to foot, then next minute, I'm lurching across the floor grasping for a table. This morning on my way to work I am walking to my car when out of the blue I have a twisted ankle and a bad attitude. The lesson to learn from this. DON'T WEAR RUBBER HIGH HEELS. 

These things ARE a hazard. The rubber creates lots of friction on floors that prevents foot shuffling. And should the user, by accident do a single foot shuffle, they are rewarded with some forward foot momentum into the flimsy bendable straps which will either give way to a fall or give way to a snap. Rubber high heels, bah. I wonder where my brain was the day I decided that that oxymoron needed a defense lawyer. And by the way, I'm interested in pricing some available houses built on fault lines, and I support black licorice as a valid candy.