In about an hour my brother and I will embark on a magical quest towards hip-hop. We will see the legendary
A Tribe Called Quest perform in
Orlando along with our latest hip-hop addiction
The Procussions. We’ll be staying in a mutual friend’s house and then gathering our things in the morning to head back to Miami with enough time to get some work done.
... And then tomorrow night we will watch the same acts perform in Fort Lauderdale. Are we big fans? Looks like it. Maybe I’ll post some photos this time.
Forgive me for not writing in here more often. It becomes an old excuse, but life is pretty hectic these days. It’s for the better, I think. I’ve been doing pretty well with my school projects for my Sketch Journal class as well as my typography class. These days my struggle in my work is concept. I find myself having artist’s block and basically staring at my tools. Fortunate for me I have an issue of HOW magazine that addresses ways to ignite creativity. I just have to read it now.
I’ve set another goal lately, one which I have been actively pursuing for two weeks now. I’m trying to drop down to 170 lbs. When I started, I was 200 lbs. I’ve managed to drop about 3-4 lbs already. I developed a workout schedule and somewhat of an eating schedule. In ten weeks I hope to achieve my goal. I’ve made a combination of jump-roping, jogging, pushups, crunches, lunges, shadow-boxing, and the martial arts classes. I’m trying to stay active every day and cut down on all the junk food I was guzzling just a few weeks back. I think that if I reach my goal, I’ll continue with my workout schedule and eating schedule, otherwise my health will become this cyclical
pattern of weight-loss followed by weight-gain, followed by another spurt of weight-loss. And I hear that ain’t good for ya.
I hate homework. Anybody else agree?
So I was excited this morning to return to the gym after taking a long hiatus due to some dentistry appointments that fell on the same day. I woke up an hour and a half prior to the class in order to have a small breakfast and get hydrated enough to avoid cramps in the middle of my workout. It was going to be a good day. I left the house at the usual 9:40am to arrive a few minutes before the 10am class. I listened to the new Sufjan Stevens album as I drove down the same path I would always go each week when I was better disciplined with my workouts. The sun wasn’t too bright, the temperature wasn’t too warm, the mood was just right. I made a right turn onto the intersection of Palm Ave and Taft Street and headed east where I would arrive in a matter of two minutes. And that’s when it happened.
Out in the middle of the street is a mustached police officer with a radar in his hand. He puts his hand out in front of him, signaling me to stop and pull over. I have been caught speeding. I tense up and say a curse word under my breath. He directs me to a parking lot near the street and tells his assistant cop to get my information. I hear him say “Forty-Nine” to his partner and I tense up again.
The female officer approaches my window and says, “Forty-Nine on a Thirty-Five street. How old are you?”
“Twenty-one, ma’am,” I respond.
“Old enough to know better, ” she replies with a smug look on her fat face. I look down at my steering wheel.
“I guess so.”
She takes my driver’s license, registration, and insurance info back to her paddywagon to finish the process. I turn Sufjan’s music back up and relax a little. This will be over soon. I close my eyes and pray. Lord, help me through this.
She returns to my window, tells me where to sign, tells me to read the pamphlet when I get home to determine how much I have to pay. She directs me back to the street and I drive down the last block towards my gym. I think to myself that I can use this tension in my boxing class now. Get some anger out of me. I arrive in front of the gym and I notice that the parking lot is fairly empty. I look at the door and see a sign that says OPEN, so I smile and walk through the doors. I see my coach, his wife, and my sparring partner inside moving boxes and prepping some stuff. “Sorry Dave, we’re closed today”
I closed my eyes slowly and realized this whole morning had gone to crap. I could have slept in. I could have eaten a bigger breakfast. I could have avoided a speeding ticket. I could have had a great day. I returned home and told my Dad what happened. He shrugged and gave me a few words of wisdom. I am ashamed. I hate these moments of life when I’m forced to learn things I didn’t want to learn.
