Joys and things

Oh how my little blogs suffers. Boring life has taken over this rich, colorful tapestry of imagination and progress.

First off, my massage class of all women and one rotund, progressively slothful instructor is going only as well as can be expected. I stuck my neck out for one of my classmates whom I don't even like, but was being mercilessly picked on by the fat, annoying classmate who didn't like me. And now Fat Girl is gone, so it was much ado about nothing. How I managed to get involved is beyond me. I yearn for a simple life which includes no cunts, male or female, and yet I find myself surrounded. Did I tell you my non-sexy instructor told us all about how his testicles had not descended when he was born? It was all I could do not to sarcastically ask if everything was okay now. And he is shaving less and less. I think he is being overworked, but it could just be that he feels comfortable enough to not bother trying to impress us with minimal hygiene. And he's becoming increasingly inappropriate. My classmates can be pretty crude (there is something about putting your hands all over other people late at night that lends itself to the unseemly), and I admit that I indulge as well (although I try to be as clever with my vulgarity as possible), but I expect my instructors to have some control in this regard, or at least be wittier than the average slattern. But the non-sexy instructor, or the NSI for short, is somewhat slower with the banter. Yes, yes. I did know that head can be a double entendre. Perhaps it is hypocritical of me, but I feel an instructor should rise above, or sink so far below that he or she cannot be touched in any way. Which brings me to inappropriate touching. There is a girl in class who is pregnant. She's married and this is her second baby, but the NSI is always touching her stomach. I find this squirmingly uncomfortable to watch, mostly because he reminds me somewhat of Lenny from Of Mice and Men. Pregnant Girl is polite about it, but I have to look away so I don't vomit. I guess it's just weird because his stomach is bigger than hers which causes me to wonder why if a belly is so fascinating, he doesn't just touch his own. And then I remember that he does and I have to look at the pictures of the STDs so I don't think about it.

Other than that, it's going well.

I feel that I have a handle on the Christmas shopping, except for one present. We draw names in my family because no one can afford a present for everyone even if they're cheap, and I ended up with my sister's girlfriend. On one hand, this is impossible. But on the other hand, it's a challenge. And sometimes I enjoy a challenge. However, all I've got so far in the way of ideas is a customized t-shirt stating: "Carpet Ninja." But I think that might be in poor taste.