Daily Archives: May 23, 2008

my schedule for the week of May 25-June 1

I’m busting it at the day gig hard until Thursday.

Thursday, I’m off to Los Angeles for Book Expo America.

Thursday Night, I’ll be signing books with oodles of other awesome authors at Dark Delicacies Bookstore. (http://www.darkdel.com/). An awesome line-up of writers that is, to be sure. Come by and say hey if you’re in the Burbank area.

At BEA, I’ll be at the Wizards of the Coast booth on Friday from 2:00-4:00, signing books. Then, on Saturday, from 11:30-12:30, Rob Rogers and I will be hanging at Author Alley signing more books.

Also, if you’re reading this, and you’re going to be at any of the event looking for me, bring me some coffee. I’m going to need it. Two creams, two sugars. Stat.

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Because I am a man. Because that is what men do.

I pulled a muscle in my shoulder at the gym this morning. It hurts.

In telling this story, a common theme of the stories of men hurting themselves will appear.

So, I was at the end of my workout, and had just one more exercise to do. Bicep curls. Easy enough, right? I go over to the dumbbells. the weight-level I was on was being used by others right then.

I could have a) gone five pounds lower; b) gone five pounds higher; c) waited for the other guy to finish with the weight i wanted; d) found an alternative means of exercising those curling biceps.

Naturally, I should have just waited for the guy to finish with the weights, or found a different way to curl those biceps. At the very least, I should have said to myself, “Self, ’tis the end of my workout and I’m tired, and I can survive just going five pounds lower this time.”

But – drumroll please – there was a *hot girl standing there*!

I was not interested in this girl. I had no desire to flirt, or chat, or in any way, shape, or means ingratiate myself with this hot girl. In fact, I’m pretty sure I was way too old for this hot girl. This is not the point however.

I still did the dumb thing. I went five pounds higher. I know I would have not done this if a hot girl had not been standing there.

And, of course, I pulled a muscle in my shoulder.

Why do we do this, men? Why do we insist on trying to impress women even if we aren’t actually interested in them. If I was married with twelve children, I’d have done the same thing. If I was married to Angelina Jolie with twelve children, I’d have done the same thing. If Helen of Troy was waiting anxiously for me to return from the gym, I still would have reached for the heavier weights. When I am ninety and some hot twenty-something girl is in the weight room, I will likely still do the same thing.

Because I am a man.

Because that is what men do.

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