Okay, so I got kicked in the head during sparring in karate this morning. The kick produced no visible sign of injury...just emotional trauma. Lefty caught me with what I think was a well-placed round kick on my left jaw. At least she pulled the kick. I'd have been laying on the mat with someone holding smelling salts under my nose if she hadn't pulled it. Truth be told, if I had to choose who I wanted to have kick me in the head, I'd ask Lefty to do the honors. My only request would be that I be allowed to immediately go to the bathroom after taking the kick so that I could sob uncontrollably in privacy. I was afforded no such luxury today. I had to keep sparring. I managed to make it through a couple rounds of sparring with some other people in class before the water works started. Thankfully, I was sparring with an understanding red belt when the Hoover dam was released. She did her best to help me not draw attention to myself; however since we were sparring near the area where visitors sit, I feel quite confident that everyone sitting around were able to enjoy my emotional breakdown. I'm such a titty baby.

I'm addicted to internet radio. I wish I had the ability to tune into IR in the car so I wouldn't have to listen to the local pap--which, by the way, has been playing mostly Christmas music since the last week of November.

I'm hooked on some British stations right now. At the moment I'm listening to Virgin Radio-UK. In same strange, unhealthy way, listening to traffic and weather reports from half-a-bagillion miles away satisfies me. Plus, I haven't been forced to sit through Brittany or J-Lo once in the last week.

I must be getting old...really, really fast. Karate kicked my ass last night. We had to do some of the "get down into push-up position, get up, down, up"....you get the picture. I absolutley HATE "get down, get up." I get angry just thinking about being put through the drill. No really, I mean ANGRY. I can't make eye-contact with anyone after doing them, because the hate swelling within me would be obvious.

On top of the down/up drill, we were also forced to do Peking push-ups. This beautiful piece of torture consists of launching yourself up into the air and moving an inch or so to one side instead of just pushing yourself up. We were also treated to frog jumps, first in reverse and then going forward. I'm pretty sure I ruptured every disc in my back last night.

After our torture session, we worked on forms, starting with the first one through our highest. I actually enjoy working on forms. However, working on refining forms after being "beaten" into submission is a little lost on me. The down/ups, pekings and frog jumps absolutely whipped me. Every muscle in my body was at the point where it no longer cared to listen to any command my brain was sending it. Perhaps I'm not good at just sucking-it-up and pushing myself to the next level. I am, however, good at being in a general state of angriness.

Here's Saddam-o-claus. Enjoy.

Personally, I've been enjoying snacks left over from yesterday's party. Today I've consumed a slice of banana-walnut bread, two pieces of blueberry pie, two chunks of peanut brittle, one praline, one pecan tart, and a Christmas tree sugar cookie.

It's been so long since I blogged, it took me a good ten minutes to remember my freakin' password.

Anyway, we had an office Christmas party today...brunch and a white elephant exchange. The gift I wound up with contained a Saddam-o-Claus ornament, a Wiggles 2004 calendar, and a coupon for a free cappuccino from Starbucks. The calendar came with a "bonus cd" containing two Wiggles originals. Yay me. I'm thinking saddam-o-claus is going to be horning in on the wiggles calendar during 2004.