Random Acts of Awesome

I have been thinking about my proclivity for dive bars lately. I love a good redneck bar, a good old person bar, a good ethnic minority bar. Any place I can walk into and feel slightly uncomfortable at first but, with a little work, eventually blend completely into the background makes me incredibly happy. Places where people don't want to be noticed, or at least don't need to be noticed. Every now and then you get the occasional asshole who makes a fuss, but they tend to get shut down quickly by a complete lack of regard from the regulars. These are the best people watching spots. I enjoy spending time in bars that sell scotch you have to be wealthy by most of the worlds standards to buy. I enjoy watching well dressed people posture, and I enjoy good food and good drink. But those places don't call to me like dive bars. They don't make me happy, and they don't stimulate me. Watching people who don't give a shit if you're watching them because they're

Movement has been strangely difficult lately. Things keep popping up that make me sore, make it hurt to move. I have plantar fasciitis in both feet, because my calf muscles are pulling so hard against the band of muscle in my arch. This hurts like a motherfucker, mostly in the mornings, but also after I've been walking for any period of time. Which sucks, because I do a lot of walking out here. I got a new bed, a big gorgeous California King that I've so far shared only with cats. And it's firm as fuck, so of course it hurts to wake up every morning. I feel like I've been beat up in my dreams. I'm not gonna lie, I kind of enjoy that part. It makes stretching feel almost indecently good. I've always enjoyed a little discomfort in the morning, as a way to make the rest of the day a little more deeply beautiful. That is, of course, predicated on the assumption that the pain will go away shortly... which it normally does. It's been making me think about how I d