"It looks like you're struggling to get it up," my kung fu instructor said. Which was particularly distressing, considering I was practicing with my staff.

Yes, I giggled.

What he meant was, I was using my arm to raise the staff above my head instead of using the momentum of my hips. So, I tried it the correct way, and twaaaa-aaaaang, aggravated the part of my back that I hurt yesterday from sitting in a chair.

Last week it was my shoulder. Hurt it sitting in a chair. Aggravated it by head-banging at the Rush show.

At least when I told people at the kung fu school about the Rush show, I became instant hero to the males between 35 and 45.

I think the real gist of this little missive is, I need a new chair.

I've been going to my current kung fu school since October, and not ever, not even once, have I stopped in at the donut shop a few storefronts down. But, oh, god, did I want a jelly-filled sugar raised today.

ETA: I think I left this unintentionally ambiguous. I bypassed the jelly-filled donut. I still have had no donut, and I feel I should be given a black belt for my sacrifice.

***

Writing.

I'm an apartment dweller and don't have the freedom to paint my walls, much less install a wind turbine to power my television or solar panels to heat my water. I can't install a system that will enable me to drink my purified pee. But I do want to do the little things that will help me be less of a polluting, consuming, outgassing blight upon the face of the Earth, and the Green Apartment blog seems like it might have some useful tips for people in my situation. If you know of any other good resources like this, or better ones, please let me know? Thanks.

***

"The 27 bones of the hand rattle around inside a glove of skin and fluids."

YouTube clip of a guy karate chopping a brick in slow motion.

(Via the head instructor from my old Kung Fu school, which I'm missing more than ever, partially because we did no breaking.)

***

Clip of a dude attempting a handstand on a running treadmill (via affinity8).

***

Giving myself a May 1 deadline for the current book. If I don't make it, I'm a lamer.

Hey, in celebration of Valentine's Day, they're giving away free shots at Starbucks.

Of espresso, I mean. If you find out where they're giving away free shots of Jäger, let me know.

***

Another reason I like Steve Nash (yes, it's a man crush): He's got a new Nike shoe coming out. It's made from factory scraps. It's called the Trash Talk.

***

I am a song binger. Current binge is a two-song loop of I Was Wrong (Social Distortion), and Infected (Bad Religion), with a bit of snacking on Los Angeles Is Burning. How's that for romance?

***

A lot of ants died last night. Baited traps seemed to do a pretty good job. I'll lay down some more today to let them know I'm serious. I am serious.

***

At most of the martial arts schools I've trained at, it's considered a no-no to ask when you're going to learn or do a particular thing. You're supposed to be patient and concentrate on what you're learning now, not what you're going to learn later. Be respectful of your current material. So I've been trying to be subtle about asking my fellow students when we get to start sparring.

At my Shaolin Kenpo school, we started sparring at orange belt (the third rank). At my old Kung Fu school, we started sparring on our second day of class. At my new Kung Fu school, apparently, we start sparring at fourth level.

I'm a first level.

I CAN'T WAIT THAT LONG TO SLAP A PUNK!

I'm just kidding. Mostly.

I really do miss sparring.

I got a ton of Starbucks gift cards from family for Christmas and my birthday, and since I like free drinks, I've been doing most of my coffee joint writing at Starbucks. The only drawback (for me) is that Starbucks doesn't really inspire me to take coffee/computer pics to document my writing progress. But this morning I found myself at a place in University Heights, and I remembered that taking pictures of my coffee and computer is one of the things I do, so that's what I did.

I'm not so sure about the coffee joint. I think I overheard the barista making fun of my drink (an Americano). If I want snotty comments from anyone, I'll call my dad.

I'll be seeing my parents on Friday to help them with errands. If the subject of my book comes up and Dad's first question is how much money I'm making, I might accidentally leave him at the store. I know that sounds mean, but it's not like he's never done it to me. It's like, dude, if you take a four-year-old to the bookstore, it's also your responsibility to bring him home. The same goes for the supermarket eight years later. Although I guess I should have known better than to wander off to stare at raw meat.

Sorry for the ramble. I think I'm tired. I learned the first two moves of Meteor Fist at kung fu tonight. Yeah, only two moves, but I gave 'em all I had.

We did an interesting long staff drill last night in class. Our assistant instructor had us stand one foot away from the big mirror, perpendicular parallel to it, and try to do our staff spins without breaking the mirror.

Added complications were a very crowded school, so we were hemmed in by other students spinning staffs, and still other students twirling broad swords.

Also adding to the degree of difficulty was our head instructor glaring at us. He doesn't like it when we bump the walls. Even brushing the bead curtain at the entrance to the practice floor gets him peeved. So, breaking his mirror would probably make him very unhappy.

I didn't break the mirror, but I did bump it with the end of my staff. Not so good.

We also learned a new behind-the-back spin. It's pretty cool when it's done right. I just tried it here in the living room. We've got one of those stupid plaster bumpy textured ceilings. I'm now wearing much of it in my hair.

Last night I watched the final episode of Justice League Unlimited.

( a bit of spoiler )
And I swear, once the Big Three ran or flew out-of-frame for the last time, I almost teared up.

And it wasn't even all that emotional a scene! I'm just that huge of a geek about this stuff!

This show was just the coolest rendition of the Justice League ever, and I'm so sad it's over.

Next up, I'm going to watch the first season of Justice League (the show that preceded Justice League Unlimited). Then I'll probably need to get the second season. Then, I might need to get the entire run of the animated Superman.

I wonder if they'll ever do a Green Lantern/Green Arrow show. With frequent guest spots by the Question (as long as he's voiced by Jeffrey Coombs). And also the Flash (Michael Rosenbaum).

Probably not. That's a shame.

***

Passed my first test at the new Kung Fu school. Sometimes it really doesn't feel like I've been doing this as long as I have, because I'm still really quite lame, even on the white belt material. Staff form felt pretty good, at least. And I got good marks on Respect and Attitude. I'm also punctual and maintain good hygiene.

My kicks, though? If you ever get in a fight with me, try to goad me into a fan kick. It'll be like being attacked by an arthritic stork.

Tonight my instructor pulled me out of class twice to make me take a water break. He praised me for not puking.

My conditioning sucks so bad.

After the holidays and enjoying a house guest (hi, David!) and spending a week out of town, I feel like I'm just starting to settle back into the post-holiday routine. I'm working on a small, low-paying, but easy freelance gig (the sort of thing I need to be doing much more of, only with bigger pay, since it doesn't look like I'm going to be getting any adjunct teaching this semester), and after finishing the latest "final" draft of the Norse book, I'm getting back to the actual writing of the YA weird beach book. Since I found last week's visit to the Museum of the Weird in Austin so inspiring, I'm starting the book right in the middle of the shrunken heads and the Fiji Mermaid and the What-Is-It???? in the box.

Made a nice reprint sale: "Far As You Can Go" to the audio anthology, mini-Masterpieces of Science Fiction from Audio Text, due out I'm-not-sure-when.

Speaking of routines, time now to strap on, change into t-shirt and kung fu pants and go smack big wooden sticks.

It's time to start wearing a cup again.

Close call today.

You leave the world with the same goods you came in with. Gotta protect the goods between.

I was hoping to rebound from yesterday's hypoglycemic kung fu class with a kick-ass class tonight, but we were doing rolls, and rolls are my absolute least favorite thing to do in martial arts. But since this is a new school, and a new start, I figured, hey, why not treat it as something new instead of something I already know I hate.

So, I'll say this: My rolls at the end of class were better than my rolls at the beginning of class. I'm calling that a success.

***



It's an old hoax, so maybe it's already been all over the Internet, but I'd never seen it 'til yesterday. I get so much sensuwunder buzz from this pic, I can't even tell you. (via National Geographic)

My story "Cât de departe poţi ajunge" ("Far As You Can Go") is in the January issue of the Romanian sf-magazine Sci-Fi Magazin. And what a table of contents! I'm between Kelly Link and Anne McCaffrey. Not in terms of stature or success, obviously, but possibly in terms of approach, it might be appropriate placement.

***

Frustrating kung fu class yesterday. Started off with insufficient blood sugar, and I felt my energy draining and had to take a break 15 minutes in to down a Go-Tart. Made it through another 20 minutes of stance practice, and then felt slow and dumb during punch/block drills. My training partner's punches kept going right through my blocks, which has never happened to me before. I mean, I've let myself get hit any number of times by standing there stupidly instead of blocking, and I've gotten hit by being late with my blocks, but I've never before made solid contact with a block and had the punch still drive through it. Ah, well. Better class tonight, hopefully.

***

I will pay $5 to anyone who successfully revises my last chapter. (Payment upon publication.)

I can't really think of a topic less interesting than my weight, but since when have notions of what's interesting ever influenced my journal entries? Anyway, please feel free to skip this one if you want. I'll never know, and I won't mind if you do.

Today I stepped on a scale for the first time since moving to San Diego, so that means I haven't weighed myself since the end of July. My new doctor didn't have me weighed either. Nor did he ask about family medical history. His nurse asked me how tall I am, and since I have a ballpark figure for that (like, 6'1" or 6'2", or thereabouts?), I could give her some data.

Anyway, my weight, in the middle of the day with clothes on and a meal in me, is about 208. Meaning I've gained about 13-15 pounds since moving. I have a skinny frame. I have no room for this extra poundage.

I can blame some of the gain on the 2-plus month layoff from kung fu, and I can maybe blame a little of that on reduced martial arts class time. At the old school, I did an hour of pre-class practice time, then the two-hour brown belt class, and then the one-hour lower belt class, three or four times a week. Now I'm doing 50-minute classes four times a week. But really, I know why I'm turning into goo. One need only take a look at the title of this journal: Writing and Snacks.

That's right, writing is making me fat.

No, it's the snacks!!!!! I snack in the daytime! I snack in the nighttime! I down handfuls of peanuts. I check my blood sugar and tell myself since my numbers are good that there's no harm in helping myself to a slab of spiral-cut ham. I drink pumpkin spice lattes and eggnog lattes and Brandy Alexanders made with Kahlua and eggnog (and a sprinkle of nutmeg, served over ice, substitute créme de cacao for the Kahlua and cream or half-and-half for the eggnog, if you want to be traditional).

I know there's a lot of controversy regarding the BMI, and I'm not even concerned with my BMI. But I know I feel okay at 195, and I feel really fit at 190. At 190, my gut doesn't even stick out that much. Whereas now, when I check my form in the mirror in class, I can hardly concentrate on my foot placement and posture because all I see is a sack of pudding hanging over my belt.

That's right, I like snacks so much that I keep a sack of chocolate pudding tied around my waist at all times, just in case I get a little peckish!

So, anyway, the snacks have got to go. The caloric coffee beverages have to become a once-in-a-while sort of thing. Kind of like they used to be.

Tonight's cup/page pic was taken at the hyperhip coffee joint in Hillcrest, which is where I'm typing this from. The beverage contains no cream, no sugar, no syrup.

Beans and water, just as our ancestors did it when they were trying to lose 13-18 pounds.

Buying Christmas wrapping paper might be my favorite part of Christmas shopping. :-D

I also wish to note that, even though many people say you can use a mop or a broom as a bo staff, actually using a mop or broom as a bo staff is really awkward. But maybe it's just because the aisle at Target wasn't wide enough.

Went to yin-yang conditioning today, which turned out to be four hours of push ups and sit ups and leg lifts and squats and such.

Our instructor used examples from Harry Potter to explain the concepts of yin and yang to us.

I really am going to miss my school.

In addition to the really good pita place and the 24-hour taqueria and the tattoo parlor and the bartending academy, my kung fu school shares a strip mall with a Planned Parenthood clinic. So, in this respect, it's not all that much like a mountainside Shaolin temple.

Every Saturday, the picketers slump around the sidewalk with their gruesome posters and their smug signs and their stars-and-stripes parasols while mostly young women go in for medical treatment and consultations.

Is it wrong of me to flip off the protesters? Because the last two weeks, I couldn't resist. I know they're all someone's grandparents, but goddamn, they annoy me.

***

Today we had a kicking-and-punching workshop. Four hours of smacking the hell out of bags. Very fun. I took this workshop about a year ago, when I was a yellow belt, and it's cool to see that I've gotten stronger and that my technique's improved. I love doing forms and weapons and breaking out of grabs and sparring and all that stuff, I really do, but knocking back someone holding the bag for you with a simple punch or kick is just incredibly satisfying. Fellow writers, you know when you find that perfect verb or adjective that just makes the sentence ring? It's a lot like that.

I have a black eye!

Only it's almost invisible. It's only slightly black, and I've got dark circles under my eyes anyway. It's from a ridge-hand I took across the face Tuesday night in sparring. I was hoping for a much blacker black eye.

Maybe I'll have more luck next time.

***

I've got a Sunday deadline to finish my novel for the Blue Heaven workshop. About 7k or 8k or so left to go, consisting of Ragnarok and some denouement. I just did the battle between Loki and Heimdall in fewer than 50 words. I don't know if that's good or if it's lame cheating. I'm too tired to tell.

Today I'll be writing in airports and other interstitial places, and also the new Rush album totally kicks ass. I was kind of enh about it on the first two listens, but now it rocks. The bits and bytes must have moved around on my computer over night. It fills me with great rock happiness.

***

My sparring has been shit this week. I say that not because I've been losing rounds (because there aren't really winners and losers in the way we spar at my school, unlike other systems in which points are scored and there are definite winners and losers), but because I've been sluggish and unimaginative in my rounds.

On the other hand, I've gotten Tiger Descends Golden Mountain memorized, and I'm not totally lost yet on Sea Dragon Cane. But the sparring? Suckage. If it keeps up I'll talk to my instructor. He'll probably recommend more Tai Chi and Chi Kung. He may make a believer out of me yet.

***

Go Golden State! (Only not more than Go Suns!)

OMG, I learned the most awesomest maneuver in class last night! It's from Tiger Descends Golden Mountain, and it goes like this:

1. Strike low into monkey stance.
2. Cross-arm block high while jumping around 360 and landing in horse stance.
3. And here's the key: Make sure to tiger-claw strike yourself across the bridge of your own nose!
4. Spend the next three minutes asking people if they think your nose looks crooked.
5. Collect a bunch of smart-ass responses.

Aw, man, it's a choice move. I think Ed Norton in Fight Club stole it from Tiger Descends Golden Mountain.

Or maybe I'm doing it wrong.

***

There are not quite 30 of us kung fu students sparring in the park today, and this guy rides up on a bicycle, lays it down in the grass, and walks up to our head instructor. "I want to fight," he says.

Our instructor explains apologetically that we're conducting a class, that he can't jump in with us, but he's welcome to watch.

The guy doesn't want to watch, he says. He wants to fight.

Our instructor explains again that we're holding a class, that it's for students at our school, that it's something you have to sign up for. But maybe he would like a business card?

The guy doesn't want a business card. He wants to fight. He wants to fight our head instructor. Who's not one of the those old, creaky, but sneakily deadly kind of martial artists, so much as he's a young, average-looking but sneakily deadly kind of martial artists.

The guy actually goes into a stance. For a moment I wonder if his intention is to commit suicide by black belt.

He ended up with a business card, even though it was clear that he really, really didn't want to take it.

Oh, to be so persuasive in an entirely friendly, non-threatening way.

As for me, I got my ass whupped in so many different ways today. Much fun!

Four-hour sparring seminar tomorrow in the park. Between my cold and my reliably allergic reaction to screwing around in dirt and dry grass, this entry may well be my farewell to the world.

Obviously I'm being melodramatic, but hopefully typing this out will remind me to go get some Benadryl.

***

SF Signal posts a favorable review of "C-Rock City", a story by jaylake and me, from The Solaris Book of New Science Fiction.

***

Novel writers, do you ever get tired of your manuscript? Not your novel, not the story, but the actual manuscript, or the actual word processing document? I mean, there it is, day in, day out, that damn file in that damn font on that damn white background. All of a sudden I find that I want my novel written out long-hand in rich, purple fountain pen ink. I have some nice empty journals. I have some nice pens. I have some very nice inks. (I'm particularly fond of "Copper Burst," so retro.)

Ah, well. Maybe I'll change the font.