Early April

Good morning, east-coasters!

Life is settling down a bit, enough that I actually kicked back and watched a movie on the big screen desktop. The normalcy of a television will elude me until K insists on getting a Wii.

I'm not quite in a rhythm yet - we've been busy trying to change a bunch of stuff at the club, and as such, doing a bunch of minor construction projects. Marx time is similar to Jewish Standard Time, so have to adjust my schedules appropriately.

Everybody has discovered my schedule is malleable, and I keep finding new lessons penciled in on my calendar. Boredom might be the single outlet for spending money, so I'm appreciative of the extra work; it removes that opportunity cost, and since my salary is augmented by extra lessons, that's good. Plus, there is no shortage of events to referee on the weekends.

The center just got a 501c3, which means they're a non-profit. This is a good thing; it means that anything donated to the club is tax-deductible. I've got my wishlist...if anybody has any prosumer HD cameras or non-linear editing systems they're looking to get rid of, and really really want to support one of our national training centers, you can Google my phone number. We'll produce amazing training DVDs and send them to you.

Speaking of training, my legs feel like rubberized pain. A little background -- since there are only 10 Olympic medals for fencing, we have 6 individual events and 4 team events, rotating which two team weapons get screwed every Olympiad. This year, Men's Foil is one. The FIE is having a team World Championship and individual test event in Beijing, and Ariel was selected for the event. He leaves in a little over a week and is cramming, which means being in here and training every day, including weekends. Basically, if there are no other competitive fencers there, it means we're on the finals strip for 45 minutes, bashing away at each other. This may be the best way to get back into fighting shape, but it requires the emotional capacity to shrug off losing 10 hits in a row.

The new Roger Clyne & the Peacemakers album is merely excellent. One of those "if they were anybody else, this would be brilliant" efforts. 11 songs recorded in 8 days in Rocky Point, Mexico, and it's got a smooth groove that makes me want to sip tequila and chow down on a steak burrito. (Astute readers will note that this is common-enough-behavior and probably has nothing to do with the music.) That said, I miss the ironi-country of Honky Tonk Union.

Wedding planning feels somewhat behind, which I've been told is how you feel until it's over.

Loki's adjusted quite capably. He's enjoying having an apartment all to himself, chatting with his buddy (a male grey tiger who lives next door but is let out every day), and getting lots of attention whenever I'm home. He's a decent conversationalist, although after the bustle of the fencerhaus, it's a little weird to come home to a quiet place.

Delayed onset muscle soreness, you are my bane. Back to fish oil, vitamin i(buprofen), asanas, and bed.