The frogurt is also cursed

This past week has been a study in peaks and valleys. I can run without shin splints! Hooray! I have a day-long anxiety attack the day after. Boo. The burger place in Bangkok has a chili cheeseburger! Hooray! I have a horrific stomach ache all day. Boo. It’s time to go to the camp in Bangkok and do some training! Hooray! My wallet got stolen within 5 seconds of stepping off the bus. Boo. My trainer thinks my technique is solid enough to fight! Hooray! I have to lose another ten pounds before I get in the ring. Boo.

Despite that, this weekend will still be awesome. Sunday is my birthday, which I periodically forget about. After my 21st, I pretty much stopped giving too much of a crap about celebrating. Actually, I barely celebrated that one anyway. I don’t know, I’m just not much of a birthday person. I just want to hang out with people and eat something horrendously out of line for my fight diet. Tryn has informed me that I might just have to man up this year and give our friends an excuse to get drunk on a Sunday. I like to think I’m the kind of person who helps out other people when they’re in serious need, so I guess I’ll just have to grin and bear it.

Two days later, we have the two-year celebration of Tryn’s spectacularly bad judgement of character, also known as our anniversary. We haven’t got the faintest of what we’re going to do this year, but then, it took us a few minutes to remember what we did last year anyway. Which was mostly due to our celebration. Some of you might remember that our priest gave us a bottle of mead to take home, which we opened on our anniversary and drank throughout the day, and I feel like that kicks the crap out of stale wedding cake. So we spent the day buzzed and then went to the restaurant we went to after I proposed, so it was a good time all around.

These are generally the times of year I’ll sit down and take stock of where my life’s been and where it’s going, as opposed to new year’s. Mostly because new year’s is an arbitrary number on a calendar that doesn’t mean squat to me in any kind of practical or religious sense. Birthdays are birthdays(hooray, I exist!) and our anniversary marks the time me and Tryn officially joined our lives together(legally, anyway). Both of those seem a little more important to me than January starting. You know what the beginning of January means in Rochester? Another three months of winter, that’s what. Although in fairness, being snowed in IS an excellent time for the kind of navel-contemplating I’m doing here. Still, screw January anyway.

So let’s contemplate! I’ve sort of picked this up as a habit after once grumbling to Tryn on a birthday a few years back that it was another year of nothing getting done. She told me I’d gotten a job, an apartment, was paying my own bills for the first time, and had gotten engaged, so she was curious to know what DID count as getting anything done. I like to keep things a little more in perspective since then. So, what have I been up to this year? The big one is obvious- I’m in Thailand after three years of saving, planning, being excited, freaking out, packing, and throwing out. I mean, seriously, as major life goals go, this is a pretty hefty check off the list. We also have making the fight team back home at Vision Quest, which was something I was pretty sure I was never going to be able to do when I first started. Dealing with my depression-anxiety stew after years of not even knowing it was there, definitely significant. That was kind of like trying to fight a cloud of smoke, and as anyone I’ve sparred with knows, I really prefer to be able to punch back if I’m getting my ass kicked.

This year? Well, it’s time to fight here in Thailand, obviously. When we get home, picking up and moving and finding new jobs is the big goal, and both of us going back to school for something useful is right up there too. So I guess we’ll see how that all works out. As for the rest of this month, fuck the guy who stole my wallet, and let’s get on with the partying.

-end transmission.

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