Never able to say no when asked, I appear to be going to a gig in Nottingham tonight. Sure the bands are fun, but that town has bad vibes for me.
So I was there by my computer, poised with razorblade in hand (metaphorically) when my flatmate's voice came blasting through "Chris, would you like to come jogging with me, Alec and Fiona?"
An hour and a half later I was stretching off round Regent's Park. The first bit of exercise I've done in about eighteen months, not including horizontal jogging. And you know, it wasn't bad. According to my flatmates, I'm just naturally fit. Personally I think its just that I don't complain about muscle pains and don't pay any attention to my phyiscal limits.
Its the advantage of not having noticiable changed in the last fifteen years.
This one dumb Easter weekend in the nineties, I tried walking the 55 mile boundary round Bolton in a day, made about 42 miles before nightfall. So when I got back to school and some teacher, possibly called Mr Frost was bragging about doing a ten day coast to coast walk, I pointed out I could probably do that in two days.
Zee, what happened, where are you now and can we go for a coffee and catch up?
Over on the nuddy chicks site, the poll about what to do when a girl says she'll let you know later in the week, the clear consensus is to jump out of a window, although it seems just waiting and taking the initiative and calling yersel are both valid options, that whilst not the most popular, would still be acceptable.
I gotta find a gig to go to tonight or some club full of people I'm no scared of. I think I have Saturday and Sunday night's tied up, slaughtering a few more French students, or going to Gresham Flyer gigs. But Friday night, party night, I need something.