Seeing Everett was interesting. Apparently he decided I was cursed, and every time he would come and visit something bad would happen. As far as I can tell he did not experience anything bad this time. I’m not sure what ‘bad’ had come of him on his previous visits, but it may have involved eating dan dan mien and simply not liking it. He did seem more impressed with my choice of Chinese restaurant this time around. Plus my stunning show of Chinese language skills. Yes, that’s right I can convince people that I have Chinese languages skills. Now, I need more skills to back it up.

Everett met me up at borders and we waited around for They Might Be Giants to show up. Wondering around a book store full of TMBG fan with a accordion strapped to your back is fairly fun. Apparently a simple accordion is the ultimate ice breaker in the aforementioned situation, because nobody was shy about striking up conversation with us. We found the line for getting stuff signed, and camped out. Second in line in fact. However as time passed we kept loosing ground. We didn’t move, but a number of parents with little kids pushed their way to the front. Then the bookstore employees would tell us that we had to keep a path clear because the band had to get though, so we cleared a path. Pushy parents and their little kids promptly filled in.

I have seen some winy kids in my time, but let me tell you, there is not kid out there as winy as a parent that will push to the front of a book signing line with their 4 year old in tow. They bitched about loosing their spot incessantly. Which didn’t make too much sense because they were first in line (this I figured out via deduction: we were #2 in line, they were ahead of us, therefore, they were first).

Once they were finished with their short set, the signing began, and they were rolling. Moving people through there with the efficiency of an ISE designed book signing line. John and John signed the accordion. Linnell stole my silver sharpie, but Everett called his music stupid.

Well, Everett said to Linnell that he has inspired him to create stupid music of his own, and Linnell promptly came back with “you think my music is stupid.” Everett back tracked but there was no way out of the hole. Just abandon the silver sharpie and get out of there before you further insult your musical idol. I ran. Everett stayed and plugged his CD, and handed it over to the (extra receptive) John Linnell. I am sure the poop smith swept it up off the floor of Borders later that night.

My calf is doing better today; yesterday I was bummed because it wasn’t much different from the day before (Which was extra disappointing because Charlie stuck needles in it then). This morning I got up and had little pain at all. I could even stand up on my tippy toes and the gastrocnemius didn’t freak out like it had been. However the Medial head is still tender to the slightest touch (thanks to Charlie and his wonderful pain massage techniques). I think training spear last night helped (don’t tell Kelly). Worked it out a little, I didn’t to any jumps and some of the footwork was painful, but noticed I was feeling better after class than I was before.

Charlie said the injury was Ballet Calf. Dammit. Way to make me feel better about my injuries. Why do they have to call it ballet? How about acrobatic martial ass kicking calf.

[Sq 3X5 245lbs | BP 3X5 145lbs | Swings L5-10-15 35lbs | Side 3X5 50lbs | Pullup 3X5 | Bar curls 2X5 65lbs]