exercise and kobolds

I had a bad case of the don't-wannas over the last couple of days. Yesterday afternoon, I got myself out of the house on the theory of "at least get some fresh and sunshine", with a prescription to pick up, and wearing a backpack with my gym clothes. After a quick look at the ducks, when cattitude was going to head back inside and continue coding, I diagnosed the don't-wannas out loud, and he said something encouraging, so I headed on, figuring that a walk as far as 207th Street and the drugstore would do my mood good.

It did, enough good that as I was walking down Isham I realized I was heading for the subway downtown, not the drugstore. So I went downtown, called Cattitude from the 42nd Street train station to explain that I wasn't about to be home, I was about to exercise. Then I went to the gym.

( numbers for a more thorough workout )

After that, I went out to Mark and Janna's, and we played a silly (and rather poor-taste) RPG called "Kobolds Ate My Baby". One of Janna's house rules for that game is that you can, under some circumstances, revive a character (these kobolds die easily) by soliloquizing about its deeds, so I kept notes as I went. I can't find it this morning, so you're spared my summary. Another house rule is "You don't know Jack...Tolkien", which penalizes players for saying or doing things based on knowledge they shouldn't have, because it's in Tolkien's works. Again, mostly for amusement. I therefore offered random references to The Prisoner and Monty Python. Mark named his character Rumsfeld, and, within the game structure, did his best to act like the original, constantly wanting to declare war on people and search random locations for weapons. He's good at this.

They also keep a selection of nice teas, so I was happy. Note to self: buy some mango tea. Maybe the stuff I tried at Sahadi the other week, or ask Mark to order some for me. After the kobolds game reached its natural end (we'd been sent off on, and succeeded in, a mission), people started organizing a game of Taboo, but I realized I needed to go home, so we did. That got us home around 12:30; I don't want to think about how late I'd have been up if we'd stayed for more gaming.

exercise and kobolds

I had a bad case of the don't-wannas over the last couple of days. Yesterday afternoon, I got myself out of the house on the theory of "at least get some fresh and sunshine", with a prescription to pick up, and wearing a backpack with my gym clothes. After a quick look at the ducks, when cattitude was going to head back inside and continue coding, I diagnosed the don't-wannas out loud, and he said something encouraging, so I headed on, figuring that a walk as far as 207th Street and the drugstore would do my mood good.

It did, enough good that as I was walking down Isham I realized I was heading for the subway downtown, not the drugstore. So I went downtown, called Cattitude from the 42nd Street train station to explain that I wasn't about to be home, I was about to exercise. Then I went to the gym.

( numbers for a more thorough workout )

After that, I went out to Mark and Janna's, and we played a silly (and rather poor-taste) RPG called "Kobolds Ate My Baby". One of Janna's house rules for that game is that you can, under some circumstances, revive a character (these kobolds die easily) by soliloquizing about its deeds, so I kept notes as I went. I can't find it this morning, so you're spared my summary. Another house rule is "You don't know Jack...Tolkien", which penalizes players for saying or doing things based on knowledge they shouldn't have, because it's in Tolkien's works. Again, mostly for amusement. I therefore offered random references to The Prisoner and Monty Python. Mark named his character Rumsfeld, and, within the game structure, did his best to act like the original, constantly wanting to declare war on people and search random locations for weapons. He's good at this.

They also keep a selection of nice teas, so I was happy. Note to self: buy some mango tea. Maybe the stuff I tried at Sahadi the other week, or ask Mark to order some for me. After the kobolds game reached its natural end (we'd been sent off on, and succeeded in, a mission), people started organizing a game of Taboo, but I realized I needed to go home, so we did. That got us home around 12:30; I don't want to think about how late I'd have been up if we'd stayed for more gaming.

The excitement of domesticity

While cattitude was programming, I was making chicken soup.

I found a new way to injure myself while cooking.

I tasted the soup while it was too hot. A familiar accident, and one that I dealt with by putting an ice cube in my mouth to cool it.

When I took the ice out of my mouth, there was blood on it.

I'm still not sure what happened, but my tongue and lower lip are still tender--two hours, a second piece of ice, a mug of tea, and a large, comforting bowl of soup later.

Fortunately, I'm comfortable enough with this recipe (or technique, the word "recipe" may imply more precision) that I was able to go ahead without further tasting. More celery than usual, because it looked so fresh and green; a bit of ginger, because we have it; chicken meat; noodles; simmer a few minutes, and Bjorn Strong-in-the-arm is my uncle.

I just hope a night's sleep fixes this ("Take two aspirin..."?)

The excitement of domesticity

While cattitude was programming, I was making chicken soup.

I found a new way to injure myself while cooking.

I tasted the soup while it was too hot. A familiar accident, and one that I dealt with by putting an ice cube in my mouth to cool it.

When I took the ice out of my mouth, there was blood on it.

I'm still not sure what happened, but my tongue and lower lip are still tender--two hours, a second piece of ice, a mug of tea, and a large, comforting bowl of soup later.

Fortunately, I'm comfortable enough with this recipe (or technique, the word "recipe" may imply more precision) that I was able to go ahead without further tasting. More celery than usual, because it looked so fresh and green; a bit of ginger, because we have it; chicken meat; noodles; simmer a few minutes, and Bjorn Strong-in-the-arm is my uncle.

I just hope a night's sleep fixes this ("Take two aspirin..."?)