Drills

[tmcg]

It's the freaking touch drills that get me every time. The last time I hurt a finger enough to worry me was at the longsword workshop--not from getting whacked by a sword, but during the warmups where we used outstretched arms as surrogate swords to work on moves. Tonight, owing to new security procedures where Krav Maga class is held (I now have yet another Gloriously Spastic ID photo), I was too late to get wrapped, but after much punching my hands were fine. Then we do a touch drill at the very end and I bang up a finger. Feh. If I'm gonna get injured, it oughta be in battle. I wear the Klingon Pajamas of Shame.

Meanwhile, I'm starting to learn some kanji. I got kanji flash cards. They're really cool. But daunting. There are 440 of them in the first set. And these 440 are what you learn in first through third grades in Japan. And I gather you're learning the Hiragana and Katakana syllabaries at the same time. We had to learn 26 letters (albeit in increasingly bizarre, unphonetic, and illogical combinations). It's one thing to be a beginner in a language, but a whole nother thing to realize you're 1,945 characters away from basic literacy. Okay, maybe 1,930; I've picked up a few kanji by osmosis. But still. Jeez.

This evening's venting is now complete.

Comments

[terrymcgarry.livejournal.com]

They're purple.

I really wish I knew why I know that.