friday, my friend arrived.
good times.
gobbled up korean food --
and stunk of garlic and kim chi for a whole day after.
one bottle of soju --
five bottles of korean wine --
and a night of korean karaoke.
finally went to bed in the wee hours of the morning.
one of my best friends.
she knows me quite well.
my sista from anotha motha.
saturday --
so sick.
hungover.
she: tired. but okay.
me: nauseous. drowsy. unable to eat a bite.
alcohol: never. again.
voices: hoarse. raspy.
had lunch with my mom:
viet food.
(“your mom is so cute!” she later told me.
yes, she is -- i love my mom.)
my friend ate with gusto, enjoying the food.
i gave up trying to eat after only a few bites.
("i smelled kim chi all over you two,"
said my mom later. "pee-yu!")
then we went home
and played guitar hero
and american idol.
i kept beating her --
wasn't even trying --
but the victories made me feel better.
later in the day,
we headed out towards the bay.
bay to breaker race tomorrow.
we crashed at the house of a friend of mine.
sunday --
morning started off brusque and cold.
we were up at 5 a.m.
later, we hopped onto BART
to get to the city.
at the race,
super heroes, pirates,
FLDS ladies, the star troopers from star wars --
and of course, the naked exhibitionists,
some masked, some not.
one fat man even sported a small semi-erection,
seemingly delighting in the excited
gazes and laughs.
his prick was small and weak, though,
despite his pseudo-excited state.
lots of normal people there, too.
thousands upon thousands,
pushing forward eagerly.
we wore cool uniforms as well,
the nine of us running together.
we broke apart when we crossed the start line.
my friend had been itching to start running.
the morning was brusquely cold,
the skies blue and the sun bright,
but we got warmed up quickly, during miles 1 and 4.
the grey ocean fog greeted us at mile 5,
drenching us with moisture immediately --
salt from the sea and salt from our sweat
gave cool relief to our hot bodies.
then it was freezing cold at the finish.
didn’t feel the cold, though,
‘til our bodies had cooled down.
and we were left shivering and shaking
at golden gate park,
the blue skies from earlier replaced
by cold grey
and frosty winds.
after a while,
after just one cold beer,
(overpriced at $ 6/plastic cup),
with no visible break in the weather,
we made our way,
goose-pimpled and quivering,
back home.
my friend killed the guys.
she beat everyone,
by 15 minutes.
a former marathoner --
she loves running.
the guys were in awe.
they were also in love with her immediately.
she is very pretty --
korean --
long legs --
and athletic to boot.
a spoiled princess in many ways, too --
but they dug her anyway.
“she only dates white guys, huh?”
one asked me later.
she had told him where she had grown up
(potato state)
and that she had been adopted
(raised with white folk).
i nodded, even though it was only slightly true.
“she actually prefers black dudes,” i wanted to say.
but i didn’t want to rub salt into the wound.
this morning, i ache.
muscles tired and screaming.
my thighs feel amazing, though --
firm and lean.
i hope they never get thick and meaty
and cellulite-y.
and i am tired.
i fell asleep at 8 p.m.
and did not open my eyes until 6 a.m.
still not enough rest.
but do you care?
i wonder. . . .
traffic to this blog has tripled
since friday. . . .
ha! you are all curious.
you want to know how long it took
for me to finish the 12k, huh?
no. . . .
i think not.
well, if you must know,
i’ll tell you.
the answer is no.
comments are off. my e-mail address is down.
i don’t want words.
i don’t want anything.
i don’t want to talk about it.
i don’t want to hear about it.
i don’t want to be assured about it.
i have not cried.
i have not cursed.
i have not thought about it.
i have not wanted to do any of those things.
even more,
i do not want to confront how
disappointed i am
in myself.
i just keep letting myself down,
time and time again . . . .
to tell the truth, i have dreaded telling you all.
you, unseen strangers, who have seen me at my worst --
and yet you have seen nothing at all.
i do not want pity.
i do not want sympathy.
i, who have sunk so low,
have sunk even more.
but right now, my chin
is jutting out defiantly.
i will tell you if i must --
reveal my terrible secrets, if i must --
but i will not feel ashamed.
this is me at my lowest --
and yet i'm still standing,
quivering and tremulous --
just as i did yesterday after the race,
despite the relentless pummel of sharp, cold winds; --
still with some pride left --
seeing how much more it will take
before i'm down.
but the answer that you want
is no.
no.
no.
no.
no.
but p.s. --
'tis true i'm wallowing in self-pity --
but i still say
congratulations to all
whose answer is "yes."
i am jealous --
but also very happy for you guys.
you worked very hard.
and i'm just so very glad for you guys --
real, bona-fide
attorneys at law.
congrats.
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