Kayaking, "The Beat that My Heart Skipped"

I've received complaints that my posts are too long. So in an effort to placate my ADD-stricken readers, I've decided to reduce Irritable Syndrome's wordcount per post. I hope you see a difference.

I went Kayaking this weekend with my Dad. It was a beautiful, sunny, but-not-too-humid day, and we went on a two-hour tour with 4 other people who weren't as good as us (one of them tipped over. Loser!). Kayaking as a sport is a good mix of exercise and relaxation. Want to make it more one than the other? Paddle harder or paddle slower. Simple as that. This was my second time kayaking, and I plan to go out again at least once more before the season's over. Kayak's themselves run about $300-$500 each, so unless I see myself kayaking several times a year, it doesn't seem worth it to own one. But who knows. Right now I'm closer to buying a jet ski. But my Honda can't tow it.

After kayaking, my dad and I went out for Chinese (Mom was in Pittsburgh visiting my aunt). I never realize how much Chinese I've eaten until it's too late. I think it's because the food is all chopped up into nice bite-size pieces, and it has sauce on it, so it goes down quicker. But once it's down there, well...to paraphrase The Simpsons, it feels like something crawled into my stomach and took a crap.

One hour later -- and ten pounds lighter -- I was back to normal. I had miraculously convinced my dad to check out a 9:15 showing of "The Beat That My Heart Skipped," a French flick about a 30-something criminal thug who wants to become a concert pianist. It's a remake of a 1977 James Toback film called "Fingers," starring Harvey Keitel. It was pretty awesome. The lead actor's performance is outstanding the whole way through; he has to be tough enough to beat the shit out of somebody, but then sensitive enough to have a passion for piano. The story involves the lead character's loyalties to his father (who he works for), friends, and himself. What does he have the guts for? A demoralized life of a crime, or a competitive life of music? 4/5.

On Sunday I did my normal stuff, going into the office for a couple hours to prepare for the horrendous week ahead. Too bad I can't talk about that on here. It's interesting stuff. Well, to me it is. Ah whatever. I poop a lot. There, ya happy?