Plaza night

I got off work and there were still puddles around, but I had a language session at 西門, so I rode the train over. The spot was pretty much dry, except for the handgrenade sized snails and the two inch wide trails of goop they leave behind themselves. My language teacher never arrived, but four unfriendly plaza skaters did, and RMJ. The spot is a classic; all pink marble, a three stair, and curbs, little ledges, medium, and very tall ledges. It also has a miraculously smooth black stone bench in the back, and four low-into high ledges, and a natural big round flatbar. I worked through everything I could think of for a couple of hours. The main ledges are really chunky, and have ot be approached with calculated authority and confidence. I started to question myself at the last second, and stuck, and fell. Seconds later, RMJ rolled fakie into a crack. Then I caught my wheel in an unseen vampire hole, and hit my face on the ground. That pretty much ended things, but we skated flatground through the streets on the way home.

Hot, but cooled off after 23:00

I went ot hte bridge after work and while it wouldn't have been a great session normally, I was satisfied considering the circumstances. RMJ came, and we left the fruitballers and about 40 skaters and hit some slappy curbs on the way home. RMJ destroyed a weird bench spot on the way as well; it's like lincoln logs with white metal bars coming out of hte ends at odd angles, so you have to either being going pretty fast or pop out to avoid getting caught up on the bars. I couldn't do it.

second day back

could skate a line from one end of the bridge to the other, but then had to rest for ten minutes to catch my breath again. at least sukkoto came to hang out.

First day back

Could barely ollie

I got abducted by Taiwanese aliens

I came to in a long, weird room. I couldn't move, and the lights were so bright that I couldn't make out my surroundings at first. Squinting, I finally started to be able to make out some details of my surroundings. I couldn't turn my head much, but  I could tell the room I was in was so long that either ends of it were out of sight. The air smelled bizarre and bad, like nothing I have ever smelled before, like a mix of unknown chemistry and unspeakable biological functions. I was dimly aware of probes and tubes stuck into my body, and I felt a rising panic when I realized they were connected to a family robots that seemed to be eating and regurgitating my blood. Vague, unidentifiable sounds teased my ears; sounds that seemed oddly familiar, but that I could never have possibly heard before. I don't know how long I laid there, drifting in and out of consciousness, but it was at least many hours, maybe days.
I don't know how I knew, but I was startled by the realization that there was a presence nearby. It was short and dark, and wore some kind of mask over its lower face, and what appeared to be some kind of fashionably huge glasses. "Do not afraiding," it said, maybe telepathically, "we help you." It fiddled with the robots on either side of me, and disappeared. I don't know if it was the same entity or others, but shapeless shadows visited me from time to time and whispered broken English and sometimes unknown langauges. "You pneumonia, we take home later," I understood once.
After some time, maybe hours, maybe days, a steady stream of entities started to pass by, turning to stare at me without expressoin, like they were looking at an animal in a zoo. It wasn't exactly terrifying, but it was distinctly unnerving.
I felt like I had been gone for weeks, but apparently it was only four days. They charged me $20 USD, and gave me some antibiotics to keep taking. I can't wait to skate again.

sick

It's been years since I had to take such a long break from skating. The longest I've been able to stay awake is about six hours. It feels like cotton swabs covered in drying elmer's glue are in my chest, and I'm hacking grey and brown bits of it up. I am winded from anyway walking. Climbing stairs is out of the question. I can't wait to skate again.

bronchitis not flu

I wrote a haiku about the last week of my life:

Cough cough cough cough cough
Cough cough cough cough cough cough cough
cough cough bronchitis.

Also, when I take steriods, it makes me insanely furious about everything.