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May 19, 1999
a year ago

I rode!

So. I was supposed to ride the bike today, but I got distracted by Jenny, who wanted to go out for lunch, so she, Cary and I all went to Wok and Roll. A sunny day, beautiful, so we ate outside and the food was as good and as fast as usual. Yummy.

I really thought about just not riding. The afternoon was pretty busy getting details in. I think that the basis of real engineering is an attention to detail, in the end. Thinking up all the possible things that could happen, missing a few and then refining the model to catch more and more as one goes and understands the problem better. It was a pretty long day, all together, and by 5 pm my brain was burnt out.

But John was still going strong.

So I decided to go and bike while he worked more. I actually went and dressed and went downstairs and got into a completely empty exercise room. That was very, very cool. I really push myself a lot harder when there is no one to watch, I found out. Having lunch really helped with the long-term energy level and I finished the twenty minutes and eight and a half miles with no problem at all. I feel kinda like a wimp, though, with all the people in the office that ride miles and miles and miles at lunch time. But that's okay. I'll do what I can and keep doing better while I can. I got a little further today than before, and I felt really good afterwards.

I really like Jay's take on exercise. It has some cool echos of how I feel when I do stuff. I don't know why everyone feels inadequate compared to 19-year-olds, but it seems a universal constant to trying to get physically fit.

What really amuses me is that while I don't want to be seen in my biking pants around work, I have absolutely no inhibitions about going to a grocery store in them. It's weird. I have no idea why, but I just don't like running around work in them. John and I, however, dropped by Whole Foods on the way home, and got food, including a very nicely stuffed chicken breast that roasted quite nicely as I took my shower, the timing was perfect because as soon as I got out, I could make the veggies, cut bread and it was all done! Wah lah. This modern living is pretty nice.

After dinner, John played Bandicoot while I went and did some writing with my tempered quill. I went another four pages without a problem and without visible degradation in the writing capability. This is progress from when I was first cutting them and the darned point would just dump all its ink at once a few lines into writing with them. Things aren't wearing out as quickly, and my structure for the nib works better. Hee. Engineering detail as to why and how and as much what doesn't work is going to go into that page. I'm sure of it. I'm even getting requests, which amuses me.

The one thing that I demanded at Whole Foods was the almond-apple tart. John actually decided which kind of stuffed chicken breast (Cajun, for those wondering, with a really spicy, dense stuffing. There were also pesto, pizza, wild rice and mushroom stuffings) and which bread we were buying. I decided on dessert. Dessert is important! It was as dense, flavorful and lovely as before, but more moist. I think that sitting out for a little while, before, had dried it out some. This was yummy.

After writing for a while, I started to hunt moths. There were dozens in the house again, and I did a frenzy of fly swatter work and then John got out the bug lamp and there was the smell of ozone and burning in the air. That was kinda ucky. Turns out that they were also hiding under my cutting board, and when I got my cutting board out to actually work on something, they'd get smashed underneath. I don't have any clue why there's such an infestation of them, but there is, and they're just everywhere, and even when we kill dozens of them, more seem to be coming in from outside.

While I was brushing my teeth, a moth popped into the bathroom from the bathroom vent.

Just to be sure, I went up and checked all my wool and silk and fiber stores to be sure that they weren't coming from there, and that they hadn't infested my stuff. All the boxes were pristine, which was something of a relief. I'm not quite sure how to deal with all this.

I'll admit that some of my spookedness is from the fact that, symbolically, moths stand for death and decay. And it haunts me that they're clustering so thickly in this new house. But after enough of them, I guess I'm getting kinda immune to that. They're just bugs, now, in some sense, which makes me kinda sad. But I can now imagine that scene in Resurrection Man where the angel is replaced with a heaving mass of butterflies. At least butterflies have to do more with resurrection than simply the dust and decay of death the way moths are.

Then again, one could call it a killing of death.

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