Working out with a huge hangover hurts. I'm getting though the crippling soreness part and starting to feel results, but today was bad shaking. Forearms got real tight off the bat, and I was pooped out after about 45 minutes. Trying to steer my bike around the city afterwards was a struggle. Back hurting; feeling kind of like I had a flu or something. Getting winded, overwhelmed by details. But it's good to keep up with the schedule.

After that and a bizzy meeting at the Tank I went to have tasty cheap BYOB Thai food in the East Villiage with good old Christine. She's getting round to having her masters degree (media studies) from the New School; catching up and life in general made for quality conversation. Another great smart beautiful women who treated me better than I deserved and who I didn't really appreciate, she's got a pediatrician boyfriend now -- who I checked out on friendster; seems quite allright there -- which feels about right. I'm happy that people are happy, and I'll take a good friendly conversation anytime.

Friday Night began slow, but pretty quickly turned into a blur, something usually driven by women, or at least some abstract thereof. I was out with Julia and her friend Karena at a local hipster joint where they let people smoke and have a dance party in spite of some truly inept DJing. I'm not about to go out and hit on anyone, but it's stimulating to be in the pool. When it got to be too crowded and haughty we bailed out and hit up Pete's, which is still solid and friendly and warmly lit and smelling of Czetch sandwiches.

That seemed to be the end of things, with everyone being tired from the week and Karena having a presentation to give to her colleagues at NYU's Cinema Studies on how Meg Ryan's career was entirely based on faking orgasms (literally and figuratively... it's a nice little thesis), so I slid over to the PFC for a cheeseburger. Bumped into Capodice who was looking haggard, and I took the haul back to the Lyric, where things were still running strong and I realized after the burger and fries and yet another beer that it was in fact 4am and I had in fact spent entirely too much money and the only sane thing was to drink a quarter gallong of water and slip warmly below consciousness.

If this is all going to start working, I'm going to need to open it up a little more. I haven't had a good flash of writerly inspiration in quite some time; still waiting for the muse to hit. The mix is getting close though. I have a feeling if I can kep my current momentum and trajectory that I might cross into sweet territory pretty soon here.