[22] dos cosas

I've been taking FIGHT class for over two months now, and I still hurt sometimes when I get done. It seems that they devise ways to use new muscles each week. And then there is the fact that I just get hurt a lot, regardless of what I'm doing, but worse when I'm fighting. Currently, I have a jammed thumb, a sprained toe, and a growing, painful puddle of blood under the skin on the top of my foot. I feel like a real martial arts person.

Back in Gone West, there was this girl who I saw once a week at a Farmers' Market who very frequently would have a black eye or two. At first I worried about her, that she was in an abusive relationship, but then eventually A. and I figured out that she must do some martial art and just get punched a lot during sparring. I am not quite at that point yet.

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One of the things I least like about blogging is blogging about blogging, but I am about to do it. After posting yesterday, I realized that I have posted very nearly that same post over and over. I repeat myself a lot. It's still true, though. I am here. I am trying to live each day here. But I have not, and probably never will, fully let go of there. I miss it. Someday, hopefully not too far away, I will be there again, for a short time or long.