I’ve had a couple of requests for information about the Krav Maga class I’d mentioned. Here’s the website - it’s called Krav Maga of Moscow, and the schedule/contact information are listed.

Krav Maga was really painful tonight. We did blocks where we were supposed to meet the strikes wrist-to-wrist, sooooo my wrists and forearms are pretty much on fire. My right arm is worst; I just iced both, and now they’re totally tight and feel like clubs or something.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t kinda like it, though, because I feel like I’m actually learning things and not just doing lame katas or something.

I’m still going to enjoy my two week vacation from KM, since between some remodeling at the gym and the wedding/honeymoon stuff, I can’t go back until 8/15. :-P

Anybody out there?

I’m trying to type with acrylic nails on one hand and natural nails with almost no length on the other… It feels odd. This isn’t standard behavior, by the way - I was inspired to take my yearly run at the guitar (this will last approximately three days) so it was off the left-hand nails.

On the subject of music: while I doubt I’ll ever reach Jemi Hendrix levels on the guitar, I really do want to learn to play the fiddle/violin. I discovered Miri Ben-Ari today, and while I’m normally not a hip-hop fan, I find the hip-hop violin to be awesome.

Anyhoo, I’m attempting to FreeCycle-acquire a violin, and if that fails, I’ll probably get the family violin from down in CA and have it re-strung and whatnot. My current plan is to teach myself (yay, teh intarwebs!) like I have every other time I’ve learned an instrument… but if I really take to this one, who knows - I may actually pursue instruction.

Wedding planning is plodding along. I’ll be headed up to the wedding location next weekend to scope out the florist, tux rentals, actual ceremony location, etc. Still need to work out the officiant… I am seriously considering asking a friend to get ordained and do it. (Yay, teh intarwebs yet again!) I just have a major hang-up against asking an actual religious officiant to do it, when I’m not intimately familiar with that individual’s theology. I would certainly hate to pick a name out of the phone book and unknowingly choose a Doug Wilson or worse. You’d be surprised what kind of folks call themselves Christians… especially in northern Idaho. Frankly, I think a beloved friend asking for God’s blessing on our union is going to garner more favor upstairs than inadvertently having someone waving the banner of Christianity - but preaching all the wrong things - having any part of my wedding. We’ll see how it goes.

I can’t recall if I covered this or not… but I’m 99.9% sure I’ve found the major I’ll be graduating with: journalism. I’ll also have a minor in history. The good news is… I have a major! The bad news is I’m not sure if I will be able to graduate spring ‘08 as scheduled… I think I will have to at LEAST get some credits summer ‘08 (either via class or an internship) and I may just have to graduate fall ‘08. My problem at this point is I’m taking the reporting pre-requisite this fall, and I’m also waitlisted on two of the advance classes I need. I think my media writing instructor will vouch for me and help me get into them, but that’s not a guarantee, and even if I do I will be pushing the envelope with like 18 credits per semester.

Oh yeah - those nine summer credits I was taking simultaneously? A’s in all of them. That’s the first 4.0 I’ve pulled in college. :) I really kicked ass in my media writing class (with the aforementioned supportive instructor), and that’s what led me to believe I’ve found my calling in journalism. Of course, lots of y’all who have known me for any length of time called that one long ago, but… what can I say? I’m stubborn.

Speaking of stubborn, I’ve finally decided to get off my lazy ass, eat right, and work out. (Warning: I’m about to defy every law of being female.) Exactly one week ago, I weighed 141.2 lbs. That’s not like, “Zomg lardass!” or anything, but I’m 5′6″ and it was approaching pretty not-hot proportions. So I cut the soda. And potato chips. And the everything-I-see-after-8-p.m.-I-must-eat. All the experts say you shouldn’t lose more than 2 lbs. per week, but uh… sorry guys. I just stopped eating crap and promptly dropped like… 10. Well, between 10 and 15. I’m kind of bouncing between 126.4 and 128.6 right now; at this very moment I’m on the high end thanks to kind of going off the wagon for the weekend. Thing is, I feel gross when I eat bad food now. I don’t really want to, I just need to find more healthy options because I get bored fast.

Mike and I also took up tennis, I’m doing some cardio at the gym, and he’s supposed to start instructing me on proper Olympic lifting techniques. (*Cough, cough* - that’s your cue, honey!) I’m finally convinced that I can lift heavy and not look like a female bodybuilder unless I try… I’m learning more about cutting and bulking and competition prep, and I understand now that looking like what women are always afraid of looking like (i.e. men) requires an actual intention to look that way. And like, 4% body fat. And usually some pretty intense dehydration. Eww.

Anyway, Jelena Abbou is my new role model. She’s my height, which makes me think hey - I can look like that if I want to actually try! I’ve seen some competition pics of her that are of the “Oh… no. No, not good.” variety, but when she’s in the off-season and actually has a healthy level of body fat… well:

Anybody gonna complain if my next round of gun pics involves a stomach like that? Anybody? No? Didn’t think so.

It’s apparently time to hit the hay… Work tomorrow, le sigh. I look forward to becoming independently wealthy. Now I just have to figure out how to go about that…

I’m very tired. I should go to bed, but I wanted to jot a few things down first. These will be in no particular order.

• The Virginia Tech thing exhausted me. I was in such a rage for so much of the day that it really wore me down. I was very grouchy all evening. It’s just so frustrating realizing that we gun owners have very little to gain and everything to lose. Sometimes I wonder where to even start - I know the battle is worth fighting, but it’s very, very difficult. So much of the population is either blissfully ignorant/apathetic or in willful denial of reality. Unfortunately, a hell of a lot of those people vote.

• I officially changed my major. I’m now pursuing a BS in Advertising with a minor in History. I got all my registration squared away, too, for the most part. I think I’m going to take a full load of classes over the summer. In addition to being tedious, it’s going to be very expensive. Like, $200/credit kind of expensive. That’s $3000 for 15 credits. Ouch. It is also going to screw with my work schedule, which completely frustrates me, because if I’m shelling out bazillions of dollars for tuition… I need to work! Anybody with get rich propositions that don’t involve pyramid schemes or prostitution, please send info my way.
• I realized at 2:00 yesterday morning, as I was trying to fall asleep, that I’m really disorganized. I’ve always been disorganized, but now that I have my irons in fifteen different fires, it’s catching up to me. The uh-oh moment came when I realized I’d committed to doing a promo event for Palouse Scoots from 10:00 - 2:00, with a break for my class in the middle. (It was during that break that I learned about the Virginia Tech stuff.) I also had to switch majors, get advised, plan my class schedule, and go to work at the other job - all on a strict timeline. I wound up buying a day planner today, because I simply can’t go on being a spazoid about scheduling. I also called in to my normal job - my coworker was going to stay late anyway, and I was doing a hundred different things that pertained to RKBA/CCW/AR-15 and all the other gun-related alphabet soup items on my plate. I’m pretty much planning a full-on activism blitz. It ought to be interesting, if nothing else.
• I did the unthinkable on Sunday. I … went running. Not only did I go running, I started the first week of the Couch to 5K podcasts I downloaded forever ago. Tomorrow will be the second installment of week one; it ought to prove interesting, since my leg muscles doth protest. It starts off quite gentle, so it was a challenge but didn’t burn me out like every other time I’ve tried to pretend I’m Steve Prefontaine. I have been planning and thinking about and dreaming about and otherwise NOT DOING workout stuff for… hell, years now. I’ve seen the results, too, as have my pants. (Note to self and society: never, ever buy “fat pants” so that you’re comfortable when you gain a couple pounds. You will tell yourself they’re just your comfy pants… Then you will grow into them. Fortunately I only did this within the size 3 to 7 range - depending on the brand, of course, because women’s clothing is stupid - nothing too extreme.) Anyway, nothing special happened, I just got off my ass and did it. And it felt good. Painful, but good. My plan is to do the running program Su/T/Th and incorporate lifting/strength training on M/W/F. Saturday will probably be my “off” day. I’m going to have Mike teach me proper posture and form on Olympic-style lifts; he swears up and down that’s the way to go, so I’ll give it a shot. I doubt I’ll be cleaning 300lbs anytime soon, but we’ll see. :) I’m considering ordering myself a set of kettlebells in the near future.
• Speaking of ordering things, Del-Ton is backordered 12 to 14 weeks on 16″ uppers. NOT GOOD.

• So, this is random… But I’ve decided to listen to the advice of oh, everybody, and stop pretending like laying out in the sun is a good thing. I do love the sun, but from now on I’m going to love it like a good, pale, sunblock-loving, skin-cancer-free little girl. Frankly, I don’t much care for wrinkles, either. I know this is very boring news. I was pretty proud of myself, though, because I bought a whole bunch of SPF-upped lotion the other night, and I’ve actually stuck with using it. I also confess to buying fake tanner. Hey, STFU! They’ve come a long way with that stuff. It’s no longer orange, and it’s just enough to take the reflective glare off my thighs.

I honestly can’t think straight anymore, as evidenced by that last point; time for bed.