you do it to yourself

I don't know what it was last night- the piously induced endorphin high from running or the warm curry glow, or maybe it was just laughing with friends- either way, last night was a fab night and I went to bed happy with all thoughts of anger as far away from my mind as possible. Opting for the quick fix, I did a couple of sprints around the park instead of my normal run and as a result, I can hardly move today. My run this morning was done at a snail's pace because I hurt so much. I'm shin-splint-prone so I always run on grass and I can't tell if my bones hurt or if my calf muscles have finally rebelled but I can tell that they hurt like buggery. It doesn't feel like the usual pain down the front of my legs but instead like someone is nailing a spike through the middle of my leg. I think I'll have to go easy on the whole running (wheezey shuffle) thing.

We get curry from the Indian Takeaway below us and when we order, we always make a point to say that we're from upstairs and we get free poppadoms and a discount. It's great- and last night we even got monster portion sizes so yay for our friendly neighbourhood Indians. Sarah managed to pack away a phenomenal amount of curry and I nearly lost mine due to my stomach cramping as I laughed at the look of horror on Sean's face as Sarah just kept on keeping on. It was a thing of beauty.

corrupting the young
Speaking of the Indians- they live above the takeaway and have a roof beside ours and their kids play out on the roof. With the onset of summer, Sean, Sarah and I seem to be the new objects of interest and the first sunny weekend when I was out on the roof, the kids were out all the time chatting to me. The wee girl, who seems about 8, had a lot of questions about Sean. "Who is that man who is always out on the roof with you?" Oh, Sean? "Who is he?" He lives with me and my friend Sarah. "Isn't he your friend?" Yes, he's my friend too, we all live together. That night we had dinner out on the roof and as I was taking in the last of the stuff, the girl came out again with more questions. "That man was out here again." yes... "Who is he?" That's Sean. [So here's me thinking, "Umm dude, I thought we covered this..."] "But who is he?" That's Sean, he lives with us. "Oh he lives with you and your sister?" Noooo..... Sarah's not my sister, she's my friend, he's my friend, we all live together. "Oh. I thought two of you were married." [to myself: WTF?!] Oh Sean and Sarah are together but they're not married. Oh the disapproving look I got from that 8 year old girl. And nothing gets up my nose like disapproving snooty piety from a child so I just said, "Mmm." in a suitably smug and smirky way and went inside. Once I got inside I burst out laughing and when Sean and Sarah asked what was so funny all I could chant in a childish manner was, "You're living in si-in." What a look in to another culture. I guess to them it makes perfect sense that I, as a single girl, could leave the safety of my parents' home if I were to live with my sister and her husband. But instead I am a single female living with two friends who are sleeping together but aren't married. Oh. My. God. Sean is a king living it up and Sarah and I are dirty slapper ho-bags. But it gets better, since this incident, the kids don't talk to us any more. Yeah, true story. I don't know if they've been told not to talk to the morally depraved people next door or if they decided it themselves but I see them and say hi and they do not say hi back. Personally, I find it hilarious. Luckily, this whole incident doesn't seem to have effected our relationship with the curry takeaway downstairs, thank God.