Larger version and explanation of Cyn's portrait HERE.
Larger version and explanation of Cyn's portrait HERE.
Tuesday, January 9, 2001:
Inevitability Index: 28 or so.
Hat-less Bald Man Index: 6 (details at end of entry).
Reading:
Korean art history. (In the ceramics chapter).
The Triumphant Return of: Queen Cyn.
Would You Like To See My
POLYHEDRAL DICE COLLECTION ?New Years resolutions?
Um, pass.
I didn’t make any this year. I used to. Desperately.
Sometimes, it was to be more confident. Or more out-spoken. Make more friends.
I specifically remember back in high school, for four years, my single resolution was … now say it with me all you post-modern nerds …
TO GET A GIRLFRIEND THIS YEAR.
I am totally not kidding. I thought there was some trick to it. Acting cool instead of tripping over your shoelaces. Keeping up a conversation instead of blushing and saying you are late for class. Becoming some super jock instead of ace-ing the next test. *NOT talking about the latest AD&D character you rolled up.*
Or just being a jerk – that always seemed to get the girls, at least from my high school observations (not from experience).
In college, with my hopeless social retardation, I amusedly considered either the priesthood or the medical school track (same amount of social life for the first 8 years).
But my mom always said I’d have my pick of girls if I became a doctor, so WHOOP there it was. (Honestly, she ALWAYS said that. Tricky mom.)
I flirted with the idea of an art career then too of course, but it seemed like even more of a pipe dream than medschool.
Eventually I met Amy in her family owned Korean restaurant. And I discovered the secret to true love was asking her to describe a new Korean dish each day for lunch .. until she eventually got so bored that she asked if I wanted to see a movie with her instead.
But no more resolutions for me. I don’t wait around for the first of the year anymore to motivate myself. If I took a snapshot now of my current life goals, they would be :
- To learn more about my Korean heritage and culture, so I can teach my children to be proud of who they are.
- To stay physically fit … at least until I am debilitated from a stroke / heart attack / closed head injury, etc.
- To continue to draw more.
- To love my baby and our eventual lil babies with all my heart.
DR. SMASH
When I asked Amy if she had any resolutions, she said,
"To be more patient."
"What do you mean, be more patient? I’m the one who yells at the TV all the time," I reminded her.
Well, I don’t yell at the TV *all* the time … just whenever Amy flips to a medical drama, documentary, etc. I can’t stand them for more than a minute. I get really neurotic and spastic about it. Like a vampire caught in the sunlight.
I am averse to medical personal journals and web stories too, by the way. Although, I will read one that’s emailed to me purely out of politeness. (I would never read this site for instance, but I might look in on the hot babes once in a while.) Answering people’s questions or reading REAL medical studies is completely different though.
Anyways, I joked that Amy resolve to be more affectionate with me at home. Her current job drains her more than ever, not the cancer part but the sheer volume of people and paper chasing. More than once I’ve gotten an elbow-shaped bruise when all I wanted was a hug or a grope (or a little poon). *pout*
But she answered back with, "Okay." So it was all good.
(I've gotten three random kisses tonight already!)
DHALSIM'S SEDUCTION
While I’m on the subject of dipping my paw into my pooh bear’s honey pot, I had my first experience with yoga this past weekend. Amy had just come back from her first yoga class, which I initially scoffed at. In all fairness, my exposure to yoga has been limited to pot-smoking frizzy-haired guys in freshman dorm and the video game character Dhalsim from Street Fighter 2.
Amy had accidentally gone to the most difficult level class and was sore. When I asked her to show me what was so *hard* about yoga, she demonstrated some of the resistance type poses (like push-ups and such). I got a bit turned on, actually. Then I asked her,
"Hey, can you do that again … minus the clothes?"
A little surprised, she picked up on my mood and followed my request.
Yes, there are few things more pleasing than seeing my sexy lovebird stretching and contorting her love muscles in bizarre meditative poses. When she demonstrated the upside-down bridge pose, I completely lost all control, and dove right in, right there on the floor. The water was fine.
Great, so I found another pervy pleasure button residing in my subconscious. I need another one of those like I need another penis.
(I always thought the Chun Li outfit would have turned me on more.)
THE HAT-LESS BALD MAN
I think Amy and I are trying to have a baby. It isn’t a conscious decision on my part, at least. I kind of want to wait a bit longer, but for the last several times, we’ve forgone the usual pinchy latex formalities and gone straight for the hot slippery action. Amy says I’m the one who must want the baby but I swear she’s exuding some kind of make-baby-now pheromone.
She denies her devious pregnant ambitions by saying,
"I won’t get pregnant if we do it without a condom just once."
Of course she’s said this the past six times.
To which I reply,
"Please. Have you ever seen Jerry Springer?? Good thing you’re not a school counselor."
You can try using the "rhythm method" but so many things alter a woman’s monthly cycle (like stress, nutrition, sleep, exercise) that it’s never reliable. Just ask the Amish.
Certain things like having sex every day or masturbating often can keep your swimmer count down (as I learned back in my sperm donation days), but that’s not reliable either. Either way, if I don’t want to have a baby just yet, I’m going to have my hands full.
Which brings me to the point. There’s a new index in town. Sure, I’ve got that morbid Inevitability Index up there to count how many patients die with my name on their wrist band.
But now it’s time for a more positive index. One to count how many times we have sex without a condom before discovering that Amy is pregnant. This won’t count the times that we DO use a condom, or how many times I masturbate either. I’m not some sick bastard, you know.
If you’re asking why have either index, my only answer is because I thought of it. WHOOP there it is.
I asked Amy what to call it, and she said,
"How about the Hat-less Bald Man Index."
You can figure that one out.
It’s up to six already.
Let the games begin.
I am really going to regret this (entry) in the morning.
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