The year of the pig

Okay, so every Chinese New Year, I do a whole pile o' lion dances all over Chinatown, and every year I end up pretty much immobilized by the Lion Dancing marathon that inevitably takes place every time we do it. Every year I swear that the next year, I'll take it a little easier, and every year, I make myself a liar.

Yeah, it's that time of the year again.

We started our hefty Lion Dancing schedule this weekend where we threw ourselves with hopeless abandon into the traditional Chinese lion dance at every store, every mall and every establishment and organization in Chinatown, and a few outside of Chinatown. We did a couple of Kung Fu demonstrations and, yes, we all ended up feeling pretty damn sore at the end of it.

Right now, non-steroidal Anti-inflammatory drugs are my friend. Ibuprofen, very good stuff. Without it my neck would be so stiff that my field of vision would be uncomfortably small.

I'm knee-deep in lion dances, Kung Fu demonstrations and Chinese food. I'm fed, I'm fed up; I'm sore, I'm stiff.

I'm loving it.

Welcome to the year of the pig.