April 06, 2005 - 12:57 p.m.
This entry is about the nasty thing that has been dominating my life. Not "dominating my life" as in preventing me from updating my online crap; no, that particular thing has been the game Lumines. I mean, it's been dominating my life to the point where is has been preventing me from living it normally.
It is, as I typed above, nasty. So, if you don't want to find out something nasty about me, don't read this.
(It isn't THAT nasty. I would rate its nastiness at about a FIVE, if a ONE is "getting yogurt on your pants" and TEN is "[censored].")
This entry will probably also be really long, since, when I don't write for a while, it tends to all get backed up and then come barfing out my fingertips, like when you unkink a garden hose.
So, yes, I've been getting a bit of a gut. That's not the gross thing; there's nothing inherently gross about a bit of fat. I actually think it's kinda funny, since I've been so damn skinny forever. But what's not funny is how out of shape I am. Walking from the street up to Laurie's front door leaves me a little out of breath. And there's one thing to blame: I haven't been playing Dance Dance Revolution.
That's right, a video game was responsible for all of my physical shape. It was my only exercise. The days when I had the magic legs (like those of a touring cyclist) from repeatedly attempting "Max 300" on "Heavy" are long gone. My stomach hangs a bit over my belt, which would be fine if all my shirts were not fitted for a superskinny person, which they are and which I no longer am.
So why don't I just start playing DDR again? ATHLETE'S FOOT.
Seriously! In the words of the late, great stand-up comedian Mitch Hedberg, "if I had Athlete's Foot, my first thought would be, 'that's not my fuckin' foot!'" I am no athlete, to be sure, but there ya go.
I think I may have first picked it up off the floor of my shared shower; I regret to admit that since Housemate Scott left, it has not been cleaned as frequently as it really should. But I stuff my feet into tight shoes all day, every day, and I would occasionally play DDR and get 'em nice and sweaty. And, being a non-athlete, I didn't think to immediately get them out of the shoes and dry. So, I got myself a case of Athlete's Foot, but I didn't realize it for a while because I had no idea what Athlete's Foot looked like, and also because it took the form of a lot of tiny blisters. I assumed I was just getting the blisters from playing DDR, even when I was only playing a couple rounds every week.
I stopped playing when it became itchy and painful. After a while, I realized that I was still getting new blisters, despite the total lack of physical activity. That was a bad sign.
Now, this was months ago. Many months ago. I know I had it at Christmas. But I didn't decide something needed to be done about it until about a week ago. So, I'm treating it. Whatever.
Thing is, it isn't my feet that are the problem.
Now, Athlete's Foot is a fungus. That means it is contagious, but it needs direct contact (like a scratching) and specific conditions (dark, warm, high-friction places) to spread.
I'll spare you the details, but I must have scratched a bit too many places (technically, I shouldn't have been scratching anything at all) because, to add to the improbably athletic-themed skin conditions, I also have: JOCK ITCH.
I didn't start this diary so I could type about my crotch, but I'll just leave it said that it is an important part of sitting down, and sitting down is an important part of pretty much everything I do. Now, I'm treating it, of course, but the powder crap makes me one itchy dude. And I can't scratch it. That equates to torture at work, so I haven't been able to work much lately. I need to stretch out and try not to think about how itchy I am.
Anyway, that sucks, and that's what's going on.
Nothing else is going on.
Well, Laurie is going to Germany for two months, but, that's not happening yet.
