Busy busy

Went over to civilization today and played some Mario Kart. Trash talking is a very big part of my game, and served me true while I battled video game amateurs (girls), but earned me only a close second when I faced Paul, the hero of our hit song The Paul Song. Of course if I had beaten him we would have had to rewrite the song, so perhaps I was subconsciously sabotaging myself, and I'm actually twice as good as he is at Kart. At last, a sensible and simultaneously flattering explanation.

We also played Taboo, which was even more fun. The teams were boys versus girls, which ended the only way it could, and I don't mean in an orgy. (Boys won by a long shot)

Before Chun came home, I jammed with Band-in-a-Box for a while - mostly major and minor blues. Every day I try to convince myself to go downstairs and plug into the amp, but it's so far, my inertia is so great, and the couch and refrigerator exert a gravitational force usually restricted to black holes and neutron stars.

I've been reading The Time Traveler's Wife out loud to Chun during the last week, but the page numbers are growing frustratingly fast and it's getting near that part where... where... hold up... where's my handkerchief?... sniff... anyway, no more reading. I'm going to grow breasts if I don't pull myself together. Time to go on a testosterone binge. Arnold, Bruce, Christian, you're going to return me to the male race.

Just remembered a great joke Justin Lee told me during the Maine trip:

Q: How many feminists does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: None, feminists can't change anything.