It is what it is...

The one that put Clark Griswald to shame....

2008-12-11T14:57:00.009-06:00

Surprise! Something new!

I'm still alive. Although this stupid weather it doing it's best to give me a stroke and fill me with HATE. So, I thought I'd bundle up and spend more than three hours outside in the cold darkness last night. But there was beer and a TRAIN! and cookies so all was well.

Anyway, here's a photo essay of the debauchery in which I partook. (I just made up my own semantics right there)

Theme was a Christmas Light hash. In which we would be taking in all the urban tackiness of the holiday season. While wearing red Santa hats. One would think we would like our eyes to be OPEN to observe said tackiness but NO! not hashers. We will take our dose of visual christmas cheer thru mostly closed eyelids, thankyouverymuch.

[if that doesn't make sense...click the picture to make it larger]

Obilgatory pre-run photo...to my left is friend Jen who long ago went to KOREA and has returned briefly only to leave again for Canadia. No fair, eh? Note she has both beer and pumpkin schnapps in hand. In my opinion, schnapps should come with a Z-pack prescription because one of the rules of schnapps is that it must be drunk (erm drank?) straight from the bottle therefore harboring the germs of all those who are present. So, eww.

First stop is the home of the hare for tonight's trail. Backyard bonfire and games were promised. I learned that one good way to keep grownups occupied for the better part of 45 minutes is to hide 6 superballs in a huge pile of leaves and make them find them IN THE DARK and promise them a stupid prize. Worked like a charm. [And I am still not sure there were actually SIX in the pile because I didn't find ANY. *ahem*]

Anyone recognize the lamp in the front window? Bonus points and stupid prize if you do. You win all TEN hashers plus the pooch who made themselves at home on the lawn of the presumably very hip folks who own the lamp. I heard the lamps go for like $1500 on ebay. There is no end to the tackiness that can be found in the Lou.

Sober as the day is long, I'm sad to say. And on my computer it looks strangely like I'm holding Derek's head in my outstretched left hand. I am not.

Me being unbelievably witty and pretending to pull out the Bumble's teeth. Remember? The misfit elf, who wanted to be a dentist, pulled them out so he wouldn't be so scary? I for one felt that he should be without his teeth but at this point no one was listening to me because there was food. So I figured I'd take care of the teeth myself. WITTY!

Bumbles bounce!!

The Beating of My Heart

2008-10-20T21:54:00.006-05:00

All is well. Just sharing some pictures that make me smile. They are beautiful to me in their fierceness and stregnth.

I am incapable of leading with my head instead of my heart. That will mean higher highs and lower lows that at this point in my life seem to have very sharp edges. This is nothing new and it's not likely to change. The only promise I can give you is that I'm unlikely to write about it again. [and there was much rejoicing!! yay! yay!]

-To fall in love is easy, even to remain in it is not difficult; our human loneliness is cause enough. But it is a hard quest worth making to find a comrade through whose steady presence one becomes steadily the person one desires to be.

-Anna Louise Strong

Backpedaling

2008-10-03T13:39:00.006-05:00

To Have Without Holding
Marge Piercy

Learning to love differently is hard,
love with the hands wide open, love
with the doors banging on their hinges,
the cupboard unlocked, the wind
roaring and whimpering in the rooms
rustling the sheets and snapping the blinds
that thwack like rubber bands
in an open palm.

It hurts to love wide open
stretching the muscles that feel
as if they are made of wet plaster,
then of blunt knives, then
of sharp knives.

It hurts to thwart the reflexes
of grab, of clutch; to love and let
go again and again. It pesters to remember
the lover who is not in the bed,
to hold back what is owed to the work
that gutters like a candle in a cave
without air, to love consciously,
conscientiously, concretely, constructively.

I can't do it, you say it's killing
me, but you thrive, you glow
on the street like a neon raspberry,
You float and sail, a helium balloon
bright bachelor's button blue and bobbing
on the cold and hot winds of our breath,
as we make and unmake in passionate
diastole and systole the rhythm
of our unbound bonding, to have
and not to hold, to love
with minimized malice, hunger
and anger moment by moment balanced.

I stole this from Oh the Joys. It was just too beautiful not to share and every time I read it, I speaks to me differently.

Yes indeed it is hard to love wide open. To have and not to hold.

Perhaps I was scared and went looking for trouble.

"I believe it is possible for two people to look at the same thing and see things completely different."

We're Not Gonna Take It...

2008-09-29T13:29:00.001-05:00

...is my new ringtone.

THIS made me laugh.

I big heart the 80s.

Everything ends badly otherwise it wouldn't end. -Lloyd Dobler in Say Anything

2008-09-23T22:02:00.001-05:00

Make sure you all have your bio-suits on and splash guards down. Because, for the next little while, and because I have surrendered all dignity, I intend to bleed all OVER the damn place.

So. Over the last year, I loved somebody. HARD.

I did it without regret.

I can only think that in the clichéd way of someone suffering unrequited love, that he won’t realize what he’s lost until I’m long gone.

But bottom line is he didn’t think I was worth it.

The sooner I realize that, the better.

And it was not all about me.

No Wimps, No Whiners

2008-09-03T16:30:00.003-05:00

I did it again. I signed up for THIS.

GAH.

Excuse me while I search the innernet for an extra set of lungs. Mine will surely explode on Dec. 13th.

[Race sold out (600+ spots) in about 48 hours]

Apparently foolishness and bragging rights are contagious.

It's A Nice Place to Visit...

2008-08-28T13:22:00.005-05:00

but I don't want to live there...

It is pleasant to have been to a place the way a river went. -Henry David Thoreau

2008-08-18T12:23:00.007-05:00

Ahem.

I went.

I observed and half-heartedly participated. I enjoyed the company of my friend-family and filled my lungs with fresh air and campfire smoke. I laughed and sang and looked at the stars from the edges with the din of happy voices as background music.

My mind was elsewhere.

I was one of the first to hit my tent that night; I was anxious to have the time to myself. I liked hearing the noise coming from the top of the hill and while I expected to feel nervous and scared, I felt no real anxiety at all. I expected to feel sorry for myself and lonely but that's not what happened. I felt peaceful. What I didn't expect to feel was COLD. It was August in Misery for crying out loud. I only made it until about 3:45am when I bailed and slept in the van when I woke up freezing and in the fetal position from being so cold. I think I was actually saved from hypothermia by some muttering hasher using his car's lock/unlock [beep....beep boop...repeat]feature after stumbling around for a good long time trying find his tent.

So.

It was good to be out on the river with friends. Not caring how dirty or sweaty or silly we all got. Life is good and I am blessed.

Ouch.

2008-08-05T15:02:00.003-05:00

I stumbled onto a free rego for the camping/floating trip this weekend.

I agreed to go.

I will be sleeping alone in a tent. For the first time ever.

I am afraid of being outside, alone, in the dark.

I am also afraid of being alone.

Both of those things are the reasons I have to go.

Lazy summer giggles...

2008-07-23T13:55:00.002-05:00

ANYWAY. I have said before that I think I may have been a Sassy Southern Girl in a previous life. Assuming you, and I for that matter, believe in that sort of thing. Case in point, down there in Looo-siana they do. And the voices in my head [yes, plural] tend to have a southern drawl. And I'm pretty sure they wear big floppy hats and get bad case of the vapors on occasion.

So, imagine my GLEE in discovering THIS lovely blog. I've already added her to my list of people to stalk when I become independently wealthy, or win a million dollars in Vegas this weekend. [VEGAS BA-BEEEE!] I think she should be on your list too.

[gotta go in a little deeper than her most recent post...like my previous post says, "the world does not stop for your grief". ] So sit back, grab a glass of wine and prepare to giggle your fool head off.

I show you doubt, to prove that faith exists. -Robert Browning

2008-07-21T12:00:00.004-05:00

A very kind friend sent this to me and I do believe that it was exactly what I needed to hear.

Just wanted to pass it on.

I Believe

I believe - That just because two people argue, it doesn't mean they don't love each other. And just because they don't argue, it doesn't mean they do.

I believe - That we don't have to change friends if we understand that friends change.

I believe - That no matter how good a friend is, they're going to hurt you every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.

I believe - That true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. Same goes for true love.

I believe - That you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.

I believe - That it's taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.

I believe - That you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.

I believe - That you can keep going long after you think you can't.

I believe - That we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.

I believe - That either you control your attitude or it controls you.

I believe - That heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.

I believe - That money is a lousy way of keeping score.

I believe - That sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you're down will be the ones to help you get back up.

I believe - That sometimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel.

I believe - That maturity has more to do with what types of experiences you've had and what you've learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays you've celebrated.

I believe - That it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.

I believe - That no matter how bad your heart is broken, the world doesn't stop for your grief.

I believe - That our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.

I believe - Two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.

I believe - That your life can be changed in a matter of hours by people who don't even know you.

I believe - That even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you, you will find the strength to help.

I believe - That credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.

I believe - That the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.

I believe - The happiest people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the best of everything they have.

"When life doesn't seem like a bed of roses remember who wore the thorns." -Unknown

2008-07-01T21:51:00.003-05:00

Ok Brad, here ya go. I don't have much that doesn't involve a whole lot of sighing but I'll give it a shot.

It's been a long time since I've publically counted my blessing and the small things that help me put one foot in front of the other. It's about time though.

1. My beautiful, smart, funny, sensitive and thoughtful babies.

2. The craptastic mommymobile. And it's bald tires, and scraped paint and leaky radiator. I've driven a minivan for more than 10 years...my dues are paid.

3. My patients who remind me to slow down and bring me roses from their garden even when they yell at me. We all have challenges and I don't get to see many folks on their best day. But sometimes I do.

4. Fritz's lowfat ice cream.

5. Reunions

6. CO2 cartridges. I had a flat for the first time out on the road and I walked down to a park to change it and happened to change it right next to a friendly triathlete. Her presence may not have helped much aside from significantly reducing the amount of cussing that usually accompanies my tire adventures.

7. Wednesday nights. Silly songs. Beer.

8. 10th row seats at the Brooks and Dunn concert. Blake Shelton is hawt.

9. Vacation.

10. The babysitter/second mom my girls had the good luck to spend time with the last 6 years. She's moving and I am realizing that I didn't show her how much I appreciated all she's done for our family. It is beyond words.

Please share your list...if anyone is still out there. I'm not packing it in yet. I just haven't been inspired lately. I think that it requires a certain amount of balance to be able to organize thoughts into something meaningful. I am the opposite of balance. I am reeling... stumbling, really. But I haven't fallen yet. And if I do, I have to trust that the inertia of memory will not allow me to quit. Even scraped knees and elbows bring with them a good story.

80 miles, 8 runners....

2008-04-25T15:33:00.009-05:00

River to River Relay....from the Mississippi to the Ohio River in a little over 10 hours. Dreaded it going in, was severely undertrained. Got a lucky break...my first leg (of three) was cancelled due to a mud slide. But it was a FANTASTIC day. Will do it again, and complete all three legs. Hopefully next year.

Me, Me and more Me....

Thats Kentucky behind us...

Me being a little cocky...should have saved the energy for the HILLS

Drive it like it's RENTED!!!

Good times. Reminded AGAIN was a blessing it is to be able to move my body.

Ha! And one last picture from the Green Dress Run. The guy on my left is from Wisconsin...and the one in the middle is a LAWYER here in STL. He got his dress online from some squaredancing outfitter. SO FUNNY.

And that statue behind us? Lewis and Clark I think, but regardless, by the next weekend it was completely under water up to the outstretched arm.

The one where cocktail hour should have started at 9am

2008-04-11T20:40:00.004-05:00

There's a chance it could snow tomorrow in the Lou. I couldn't take it so I booked a flight to Ft. Lauderdale. [heh. I wish I had that rockstar life] The reality is I have training there all day saturday and managed to extend my free flight a few days to play in the sun. HOWEVER....

As required by my job, I am to attend training this Saturday. So their travel agency sent me confimation of my e-ticket about 10 days ago and I was reminded to CARRY ALL TRAVEL DOCUMENTS WHILE traveling. Which I did being the anal, clock watcher-planner that I am. On those papers were THREE different phone numbers should I have any questions. Perfect.

I get to the airport at the buttcrack of dawn and stand in line at curbside check-in. A very pleasant gentleman greeted me at took my eticket confirmation and ID. He clacks at his computer and pauses, and says, "You need a paper ticket. I'll walk you in to the counter so you can be first in line." WONDERFUL. If this happens to you? NOT A GOOD SIGN. And on top of that, the back of my head is still burning where the 600 people who were also in line at the buttcrack of dawn were staring at the chick who just butted in line. So, JOY [ironic name for the cheerful airline counter people, no?] does her little clack routine and says, "Your reservation is here but you don't have a ticket". I must have looked a little homicidal because she said, "I see some phone numbers here, you'll have to call them to take care of this for you. OR you'll have to purchase a ticket." Good times. So I get on the phone and proceed to leave very FIRM messages at all three phone numbers. Something along the lines of.. "I'm traveling as a guest to YOUR training seminar today and I was just told I don't have a ticket. Despite having a confirmed e-ticket that apparently NO ONE ACTUALLY PAID FOR so I need someone to call me RIGHT NOW."

Gah.

And the security line is now winding it's way out the door and across the river. So, I bought a ticket. And left another firm message. And buying a one way ticket that late in the game also buys you upclose and personal time with the TSA folks. Not only did I have to get yanked out of line, they also patted me down [without even dinner or a movie first!] and swiped my shoes, phone and laptop, checking for explosives. Now, I've never been around explosives as far as I know but I was sure, the way my morning was going, that I probably came into contact with some somehow. But no, the slightly squishy, frazzled minivan driving mom came up clean.

I was putting my shoes back on when my phone rang. It was the travel agent. I thought it best to let it go to voicemail at that point and that's when I wondered if 9am was too early to drink tequila directly out of the bottle.

And the whole time I kept thinking...I'm so glad I'm not flying American....

And I made it. At 3:35pm I was playing in the ocean. And I was even wearing a bikini. Which NONE of you will ever be witness to. But I'm never going to see any of THOSE folks again. My apologies to their eyeballs.

Life is tough, but with the sun on my face and drops of sea water drying on my skin, it could be a lot worse.

Rambling much?

2008-04-03T19:04:00.005-05:00

Hey.

A mere 8 hours south of here, I think I've heard Atlanta is having some sort of drought. Sign me up. It has done NOTHING but piss from the sky and then, for effect, the wind picks up and makes me cuss and shake my fist at the sky. Like a crazy person, I talk to the weather. And also to traffic. But lately, mostly just the weather. The cute little weatherperson from South Dakota that I watch on channel 5 has completely run out of rain jokes. It ain't pretty.

[I really shouldn't complain, at least I'm not bailing out my basement like some folks down here, but seriously, they call it a FLOOD PLAIN for a reason]

But. There is promise of sun this weekend. I will be watching short, noisy people play soccer and softball. I should be playing kickball [yup, in a RAINBOW league::snort::] and while all the games have been rained out or it was high tide in the outfield or some such, we did practice in balmy 34 degree temps and I was sore for a week. And I really don't remember my heart threatening to explode out of my chest while running the bases on the playground many years ago.

I think I'm ready to shed the wet, grey, threadbare blanket of melancholy I've been foolishly dragging around all winter. I thought by now I would have figured out what was making it such a persistant companion but I haven't. Maybe I never will. Just recently, for fleeting moments, I feel it sliding off my shoulders in anticipation of the sun warming the chill out of my bones. It will feel like heaven.

Mom made a spur of the moment visit and much fun is planned in the months ahead. I have many blessings and much to look forward to. I trust that life will unfold as it should.

I hope the signs of spring fill your world with sunshine and HOPE!

PSA: Please take a minute...

2008-03-14T12:56:00.002-05:00

This video made my day.

Can You Pass The Test?

Gonna put rubber to the road shortly...

Watch for me.

Snow + dirt + 50 degrees = SHOE SUCKING MUD

2008-03-09T22:55:00.004-05:00

[Giggle] Played in the mud today.

Ran downhill in the mud, ran uphill in the mud. Ran sideways on mud. And busted my ass.

Jumped over a particularly large puddle and landed in the mud. And the mud ATE MY SHOES. BOTH OF THEM. I literally came out of my shoes. And walked uphill in muddy socks. Had to sit down to remove a handful of razor sharp *burrs* before I could put my muddy socks in my muddy shoes. And mud is HEAVY y'all.

And then we crossed a crystal clear creek. THREE times. Which is why in this picture, my shoes look partly clean on top.

There were two best parts. The sun poked out right before the hash started and I didn't have to wear gloves for the first time since, like, November.

And even better...there were I dunno...12 people at the run today. And I was the second YOUNGEST ONE THERE. Or all but one was older than I.

Fountain of youth, my friends.

Playing outside.

Find the time.

Last time I checked, Korea is STILL not in Iowa

2008-02-17T09:11:00.002-06:00

I am more sad and scared and anxious that my body can handle I'm afraid. That usually means change is coming.

This anxiety and uncertainty makes me look inward too much and I have a thank you to write that is SO long overdue.

My far away sister friend Jen, sent the three parts of the sister square a fantastic package for Christmas. The contents were amazing...some "smell good" for my skin, some awesome lip stuff, a pair of socks with a NO FARTING symbal (for hashing, obviously) and a perfect scarf that when I wear it feels like a hug. Thank you love, I hope you know how much I appreciated it, and how often I think of you.

Come back soon?

Does absence really make the heart grow fonder?

2008-01-28T22:59:00.000-06:00

Probably not.

I will be back soon.

Are you all watching this CRAPPE about the primaries and such? I'm an undecided voter....sway me.

Goodnight.

Wake me when it's hot and humid.

Ummm, yeah.

2008-01-10T22:24:00.000-06:00

Heh. Apparently, I have no shame.

That's me in the sexy yellow hat.

That looks like a hockey helmet.

Kindness is tenderness. Kindness is love, but perhaps greater than love...Kindness is good will. Kindness says, "I want you to be happy.- Randolph Ray

2008-01-03T13:30:00.000-06:00

I am badly in need of spring.

My usual winter funk feels like a cold, soggy blanket that's permanently hung on my shoulders and I can't shake it off.

Oh, there are times when I forget it's there...

I get moments of lightness but boy, are they fleeting.

This is normal for me this time of year. I know it will pass.

When I finally lose the shadow of this really long winter there is someone I hope will be standing beside us.

Maybe you can see the twinkle in his eyes and the dimple on his left cheek. What you can't see is how he makes me smile and how relaxed and patient he is with my girls. And he completely has this fragile heart.

...and he likes to dance!

2007-12-09T22:30:00.000-06:00

New job? Check [using my brain way more than usual which leaves me short of the brain power needed to add to my blog at the moment. I hope this will change as I get used to it]

Christmas shopping done? Half check. [I'll come back to this]

Training? Check. [Survived the Pere Marquette Trail Run. Didn't fall down, didn't break anything and finished despite mud and freezing rain. A good day! More later]

Sunshine? Big check....exclaimation point. [cautiously optimistic...see below]

Day 24: Respectfully submitted...

2007-11-24T20:29:00.000-06:00

I received the following narrative (?) from a patient of mine. I typically do not give out my personal email but at the time I did not have a company address and it was easier for us to schedule and stay informed using email.

I have no doubt that she is a decendant of the native people she speaks of. She has a truly Native American name, which I have to withhold because I am posting this without obtaining her permission. I believe in the spirit that I am posting it and the fact that I receive no monetary gain from it, that she would be okay with expanding the circle of people she hoped to share her story with. It made my brain a little bigger...I don't need to agree or disagree. As in most things, it is my job to be present and reconcile a past that I had no part of but may very well include the "sins of my fathers", with the way I live my life today.

*copied from a personal email...

I celebrate the holiday of Thanksgiving.
TO HONOR SQUANTO
This may surprise those people who wonder what Native Americans think of this official U.S. celebration of the survival of early arrivals in a European invasion that culminated in the death of 10 to 30 million native people.
Thanksgiving to me has never been about Pilgrims. When I was six, my mother, a woman of the Seneca nation, told my twin sister and I not to sing "Land of the Pilgrim's pride" in "America the Beautiful." Our people, she said, had been here much longer and taken much better care of the land. We were to sing "Land of the Indian's pride" instead.
I was proud to sing the new lyrics in school, but I sang softly. It was enough for me to know the difference. At six, I felt I had learned something very important.
As a child of a Native American family, you are part of a very select group of survivors, and I learned that my family possessed some "inside" knowledge of what really happened when those poor, tired masses came to our homes.
When the Pilgrims came to Plymouth Rock, they were poor and hungry -- half of them died within a few months from disease and hunger. When Squanto, a Wampanoag man, found them, they were in a pitiful state. He spoke English, having traveled to Europe, and took pity on them. Their English crops had failed. The native people fed them through the winter and taught them how to grow their food.
These were not merely "friendly Indians." They had already experienced European slave traders raiding their villages for a hundred years or so, and they were wary -- but it was their way to give freely to those who had nothing. Among many of our peoples, showing that you can give without holding back is the way to earn respect. Among the Cree, my father's people, they say, when asked to give, "Are we not Cree and alive?" It was believed that by giving there would be enough for all -- the exact opposite of the system we live in now, which is based on selling, not giving.
To the Pilgrims, and most English and European peoples, the Wampanoags were heathens, and of the Devil. They saw Squanto not as an equal but as an instrument of their God to help his chosen people, themselves.
Since that initial sharing, Native American food has spread around the world. Nearly 70 percent of all crops grown today were originally cultivated by Native American peoples. I sometimes wonder what they ate in Europe before they met us. Spaghetti without tomatoes? Meat and potatoes without potatoes? And at the "first Thanksgiving" the Wampanoags provided most of the food -- and signed a treaty granting Pilgrims the right to the land at Plymouth, the real reason for the first Thanksgiving.
What did the Europeans give in return? Within 20 years European disease and treachery had decimated the Wampanoags. Most diseases then came from animals that Europeans had domesticated. Cowpox from cows led to smallpox, one of the great killers of our people, spread through gifts of blankets used by infected Europeans. Some estimate that diseases accounted for a death toll reaching 90 percent in some Native American communities. By 1623, Mather the elder, a Pilgrim leader, was giving thanks to his God for destroying the heathen savages to make way "for a better growth," meaning his people.
In stories told by the Dakota people, an evil person always keeps his or her heart in a secret place separate from the body. The hero must find that secret place and destroy the heart in order to stop the evil.
I see, in the "First Thanksgiving" story, a hidden Pilgrim heart. The story of that heart is the real tale than needs to be told. What did it hold? Bigotry, hatred, greed, self-righteousness? We have seen the evil that it caused in the 350 years since. Genocide, environmental devastation, poverty, world wars, racism.
Where is the hero who will destroy that heart of evil? I believe it must be each of us. Indeed, when I give thanks this Thursday and I cook my native food, I will be thinking of this hidden heart and how my ancestors survived the evil it caused.
Because if we can survive, with our ability to share and to give intact, then the evil and the good will that met that Thanksgiving day in the land of the Wampanoag will have come full circle.
And the healing can begin.

Day 23: Black Friday

2007-11-23T22:08:00.001-06:00

Thanks Halley! Much love!

Wow this is it. I made it big time. I am typing a guest blog for thee Erin Meara. This feeling must be comparable to a stay at home mother having a personal recipe published in a Martha Stewart cookbook. Yay me!!!

Well, it is Friday, the day after Thanksgiving. Some will say that this is Black Friday… I however call this date - November 23rd. The next Holiday will be Christmas…. if you celebrate that day. Luckily I personally do celebrate this holy day, so everyone please send me a gift.

One would think that Christmas occurred on Thanksgiving Day in the manner stores have been advertising their Christmas figurines and accessories. My mind cannot remember witnessing a display of paper pilgrims and turkeys this year at a local store. (I guess I have seen this at a hunting store I recently visited though.) Heck, if you want to experience Thanksgiving decorations, one must visit a local grade school. I am sure that we all have made Pilgrim people sometime in our life…. and teachers are still making students do it.

Speaking of decorations, I have seen Christmas decorations for sale since Halloween!!! It is just not right seeing Saint Nichols statues standing next to the Grimm Reaper. This is like cutting grass at an Amish cemetery with a gas lawn mower. It just ain’t right.

The best day to look forward to after Christmas is simply the day after Christmas!! Why one may ask? Last year I went to the local Wally World after Christmas and could not believe the number of people returning their Christmas Trees. I did not think that Wal-Mart would accept Christmas Trees as returnable items but they were doing it. I guess that Wal-Mart never deviates from their slogan, “We will take anything back, no questions asked.” I know that this is true as there is a Hasher here in Saint Louis employed at a Wal-Mart. People have returned items with Garage/Yard Sale stickers placed firmly on the items!! Even though Wal-Mart does not sell that particular brand of product, and there is no receipt… she is forced to accept it and refund the customer money that a similar item does cost.

Well, I had better get to work. There is nobody here today. I am hoping to get off early.

Halley’s Comet

Day 21: I heart quotes.

2007-11-21T11:47:00.000-06:00

Go ahead.

Read between the lines.

W. H. Auden
In those whom I like, I can find no common denominator; in those whom I love I can: they all make me laugh.

Emmanuel
There are no guarantees. From the viewpoint of fear, none are strong enough. From the viewpoint of love, none are necessary.

Albert Schweitzer
In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.

And this sounds to me like a great Thanksgiving blessing:

May you not become too concerned with material matters, but instead place immeasurable value on the goodness in your heart. Find time each day to see beauty and love in the world around you. Realize that each person has limitless abilities, but each of us is different in our own way. What you feel you lack in the present may become one of your strengths in the future. May you see your future as one filled with promise and possibility. Learn to view everything as a worthwhile experience. May you find enough inner strength to determine your own worth by yourself, and not be dependent on another's judgment of your accomplishments. May you always feel loved.

Day 20: Why do you hate, Fatty?

2007-11-20T12:58:00.000-06:00

Well, I know that looks bad. But one of my favorite sport bloggers calls himself Fatty and his blog title is Fat Cyclist. And I'm going to call him Fatty too...not because he's fat, [he's not, unless you're an elite cyclist...which he's NOT] and I'm jealous because when he throws words around, people [like cycling apparel shops whose stuff is usually way out of my price range] send him FREE STUFF. Which, in all honesty he usually gives away, but STILL.

His blog has a fun boys-club feel and the places he does his thing make for incredible photos. And never fails to remind me why I have stayed off the singletrack. I need my clavicles intact should I decide to actually get in the pool again this winter. right. soon.

I liked this open letter to triathletes. Not everyone is a fan, apparently. [I'm pretty sure his tongue was firmly in cheek here...]

In other news...I will be having a guest blogger on Friday! One of my favorites from the hasher family has graciously offered to lend his talents while I'm internet challenged and quite possibly hungover.

Happy Tuesday!

Day 19 (this shouldn't count though): My hero

2007-11-19T09:40:00.000-06:00

To check out a REAL writer....go

HERE

Hey, I get to say I KNOW him [squeal!] when he gets a rich and famous and I have to stalk HIM instead of Jen Lancaster at a book signing.

Day 18: Please Pass...

2007-11-18T22:00:00.000-06:00

...the Ibuprofen. Movin kinda slow.

I believe I may opt out of my own version of NaBloPoMO or whatever it's called.

I like the idea of writing every day. But when I feel like I've had to chose between blogging and reading to my girls or responding to personal emails it's not as much fun.

And when I travel to WI at the end of the week...no high speed internet.

Wha? No. Fer Real, yo.

Blog pimp'n will continue though! There's some good stuff out there!

goodnight y'all!

Day 17: Ummm....yeah.

2007-11-17T15:57:00.000-06:00

Jeebus.

Ouch.

Roughly 7.5 miles.

Total time on trail: 1:50. Average heart rate over that time: 174. Maximum heartrate: 196. So. Yeah.

I'm pretty sure there was gorgeous scenery. Beautiful cliffs and bluffs looking out over the Mississippi River through trees and a kalidoscope of red, orange and yellow leaves. Fresh air.

I have never seen anything like that in my life. Hills. Leaves up to mid calves, hiding holes, rocks and roots of huge trees. One foot in front of the other. I discovered it's more efficient to "march" and sort of chop-step up vertical hills rather than stride.

Amazing.

Every year during this race, a guy sits on top of one of the huge rocks at one of the steeper parts that is usually covered with wet leaves, snow or ice...sometimes all three. He rings a bell and keeps a talley [by yelling] of the number of people [out of 600] who have fallen in that spot. Betsy said she was number 116 last year.
Ack.

There was fellow hasher there, 15+ years older than me...early on we were "chatting" [grunting one syllable words] and he said "It's not so much running as it is 'up-tempo' hiking." "Ugh", I said.

Scary thing? Check.

You know how you can see the trail? How the leaves are green and still on the trees? Today...not so much.

Day 16: I Just Wanna Live While I'm Alive

2007-11-16T21:36:00.001-06:00

Step away from the hairspray....

I mentioned I'm going to go play in the woods tomorrow. *ahem* It's been a long time since I tested my limits. Tomorrow will be one of those days. Must remember health insurance card.

This is the first song on my iPod. Go loud or go home.

Like Kristen says...I'm gonna eat those hills for breakfast...

"Better stand tall when they're calling you out
Don't bend, don't break, baby, don't back down"

My anthem. For tomorrow anyway.

Did you do your scary thing?

Day 15:I ran today

2007-11-15T14:27:00.000-06:00

Finally, a minute to breathe. But I’m so darn distracted. I’ve even started running without my iPod; I used to welcome the distraction of the noise but lately it adds to the chaos. I run to the cadence of my thoughts.

I haven’t talked much about racing or training…I prefer to read about it HERE because I’ve fallen off the wagon a bit. But the steady drum beat of adrenaline that echoes my heartbeat is getting a little louder. That usually means it’s time to start thinking about getting some motivation on my calendar. I can again picture myself gritting my teeth as I sit on the edge of the pool dreading that initial cold shock that makes getting out of a warm bed nearly impossible. I become aware of what I’m putting in my body…is it fuel or a temporary fix? I want the feeling of fluid mobility that is still possible in a 36 year old body that sags and jiggles and is best appreciated in low lighting but is still in shape.

Sometimes I feel a little like I’m acting like a drug pusher…

“Do this…and trust me, you’ll LOVE it.”

It’s just that it’s within everyone’s reach. And if you’re going to be addicted to something…let it be forward motion or the reward of struggling under your own power. I am convinced that training and competing in something…anything…is the fountain of youth and a prophylactic for mental illness. Just sayin.

There are two races on the books actually. The running kind. Full of kryptonite [hills].

The first, HERE, is a bragging rights race. I was standing next to a fellow hasher…who recently ran the Milwaukee Lake Front Marathon [slacker, no?], who said about this race,

“I didn’t train for it and about halfway in, I prayed for death. Anything had to be better than what I was doing.”

That from someone who ran trail on Halloween in a huge box decorated like a chinese take out box (he’s Chinese…lovely un-PC hashlike behavior) and routinely flies by me, and makes it look like I’m standing still. Check out the elevation….almost 1000 feet of gain in about a half mile. Gah! I say all that because myself and a couple of girls I race with are making the trip to the park this Saturday morning to do the loop. It’s around 7.5 miles and we're planning on starting at 8:30am. I’m bringing a flashlight, just in case, I don’t make it out before dark. Might seem excessive to those not running but I’m not sure I’m joking. I've heard it's brutal and probably just the kick in the pants that I need.

The second is called the River to River Relay held somewhere in Il in April. It's an 80 mile relay race with 8 members to a team, each running 3 legs of varying lengths. It takes all day. The other team members "sag" in a rented and decorated van. The team I was invited to participate on is made up of hashers...we may be silly and run for beer but there are actually some very seasoned and FAST runners. We've got a good mix. My biggest worry? Are there porta potties?

I talk with a friend of mine about "Doing something the scares you, every day". Those are two things that are definitely out of my comfort zone. And Saturday, when the four of us girls trudge up and down some insane hills in the woods, I get credit for doing something scary.

But the reward? Is eternal youth. I hope that when I'm 80, I will remember how it felt to have my heart pounding in my ears, and to run, skip, slide down the hills just on the edge of being out of control. I'll never cover ground very fast but don't doubt I can move this body forward.

The other reward? The sleep that comes with being utterly exhausted.

Do that thing that scares you.

Day 14: I ran out of hours in the day...AGAIN

2007-11-14T23:10:00.000-06:00

Tri-geek returns tomorrow.

Until then....BLOG PIMP!

CLICK HERE

She reminds me of the coolest sister in law ever.

Excuse me while I go find my Sharpie.

Day 13: It's all Relative

2007-11-13T22:49:00.000-06:00

Time needs to slow the hell down. I can’t catch up. It makes my brain hurt and I get clumsy and cranky. I forget to hear my babies when they tell me their stories and I sweat the small stuff. I don’t do anything well.

So, aren’t you glad I’m posting today?

I wanted to let you in on my big news…although back in the comments section a few days ago…JJ certainly threatened to let the cat out of the bag. I AM going to Korea to retrieve my Jen. Enough with the cigs and the squid and the gay arms and the dongs and the drunken emails. [Korea sounds fun, but it ain’t no Missouri….]

No really. I realized that “big news” is sort of relative, or maybe subjective. (?) This realized after a phone call from a friend wondering what my big news is…

A few minutes after I posted yesterday…

“Hey! So what’s your big news?”

“Well hi, nosey one, I thought you were calling to say hello!?”

“I DID, now what’s the news?”

“I took a new job!”

[pause]

“Oh.”

[pause]

“Great! I thought maybe you were engaged or something exciting like that.”

Good Lord.

Day 12: Guest Blogger Saves the Day!!

2007-11-12T16:50:00.000-06:00

Thanks DS for sending this...I no doubt would have boohoo'd at the sight of this.

Note: If you have ever been to a movie theater on a US military base, the National Anthem is played before the movie.

I recently attended a showing of "Superman 3" here at LSA Anaconda. We have a large auditorium we use for movies as well as memorial services and other large gatherings. As is the custom back in the States, we stood and snapped to attention when the National Anthem began before the main feature. All was going as planned until about three-quarters of the way through the National Anthem the music stopped.

"Now, what would happen if this occurred with 1,000 18-22 year-olds back in the States? I imagine there would be hoots, catcalls, laughter, a few rude comments, and everyone would sit down and call for a movie. Of course, that is, if they had stood for the National Anthem in the first place.

"Here, the 1,000 Soldiers continued to stand at attention, eyes fixed forward. The music started again. The Soldiers continued to quietly stand at attention. And again, at the same point, the music stopped. What would you expect to happen? Even here I would imagine laughter as everyone sat down and expected the movie to start.

"Here, you could have heard a pin drop. Every Soldier stood at attention. "Suddenly there was a lone voice, then a dozen, and quickly the room was filled with the voices of a thousand Soldiers. 'And the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. O say does that star- spangled banner yet wave, o'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.'

It was the most inspiring moment I have had here in Iraq; I wanted you to know what kind of Soldiers are serving you here."

Secret revealed tomorrow! My big news! No more waiting!

Day 11: With minutes to spare...things are not always as they appear

2007-11-11T23:47:00.000-06:00

The flailing of the first minute or two, combined with the song, is a little hard to watch, but with about 5 minutes left there's a moment when he spins the canvas...that will take your breath away. And I guarantee you'll watch it through to the end.

Day 10: A Stronger and More Hopeful Nation

2007-11-10T22:58:00.001-06:00

Interesting quote I came across today:

"We also have essential responsibilities here at home, the unfinished work of American freedom. In a world moving toward liberty, we are determined to show the meaning and the promise of liberty. The greatest strength of America is the heart and soul of the American people. Every time a volunteer reaches out to a neighbor in need, our nation grows stronger and more hopeful."

Today was a good day. I woke up in my favorite place. The girls and I had a little adventure and took the light rail train here in St. Louis, the Metrolink, downtown to see the Veteran’s Day Parade. I have talked before about how unapologetically patriotic I am. I hope to pass love of country and the utmost respect for those who defend it and the sacrifices of their families along to my girls. I was so proud of them today as they stood with strangers and listened to the stories of some of the soldiers that were honored. Then they stood with me along the parade route and clapped and waved and said “Thank You” to at least 3 generations of veterans of the last 5 wars and countless other conflicts.

We arrived late morning to the soldiers memorial under canopy of bright orange and red leaves that were also laid out like a carpet to greet us. We listened to a local father and son’s story about how they flew fighter missions together. They declined the option to be separated on their dangerous missions. Their pride in each other was palpable. It is impossible to know for sure if they believe in their mission. But they believe they are fighting for our country and talked about how all along the path to the war zone was the message that the responsibility they accept is huge and that they never, ever take that for granted.

I wish I could understand why I have such a strong reaction to all things patriotic. The national anthem is often my favorite part of sporting events and when it’s sung before a race that I’m participating in it feels like a prayer to me. It makes me stand a little straighter and reminds of how grateful I am to have the opportunities that I have.

As the fresh faces of the ROTC groups and the enlisted men and women in their parade dress passed by in the company of proud, more seasoned veterans the only word that comes to mind is “heart swell”. I don’t even know if that’s a word. But that’s the only way I can describe the good feeling I was left with while honoring all those men and women today. There were SO many decorated soldiers it was impossible to say thank you to all of them. So we made eye contact with the ones we could. Polished color guards from all branches. Bearded Vietnam Veterans with vests and patches and braids down their backs. Stoic Korean war veterans also holding POW/MIA flags. Stooped and sometimes shuffling older generations who sharply saluted my girls as they drove by. And the several thousand Harley Davidson club members made sure they would not be ignored. [Not a great pic, but you get the idea...about 6 city blocks full of bikes 3 across)

It felt like the right place to be today. Maybe living in the vicinity of an Air Force base and a larger city means that I have more exposure to volunteers who get the call. Hashing actually started at military bases overseas so it’s no wonder that two from the hasher family are heading into the danger zone in the next few weeks. It’s easy to forget when it’s not front page news all the time, but so important to remember. Angels on shoulders.

Oh, and that quote up there? The 43rd President of the United States. George W. Bush.

Day 9: Cuz i got nothing else....

2007-11-09T14:01:00.000-06:00

The Names of Snow White's Seven Dwarfs After Being Prescribed Paxil, Ritalin, Prozac,
Lithium, Provigil,and Benadryl.
BY JEFFREY GREENSTEIN

- - - -

Dwarf

Dwarf

Dwarf

Dwarf

Dwarf

Dwarf

Doc

MCSWEENEYS

Day 8: Hash trash counts, right?

2007-11-08T21:07:00.000-06:00

Looking for a good time? Google Hash House Harriers and a big city near you. Guaranteed you'll find a bunch of half-minds who follow a bunch of silly traditions and run for beer. All you need is a coupla bucks, some old shoes and a really good sense of humor.

Here's the deets from last night...

In spite of many hashers having heavy hearts, about two dozen frozen and shivering half minds circled to celebrate friendship, exercise, Dos Hixxies virgin lay *ahem* and of course, beer. While latecomer Halley's Comet got naked in Deavers parking lot, a toilet paper-waving Duzzy gave the chalk talk for our lone virgin who patiently waited until Duzzy used up ALL his flour to say he would not be running trail. Wanker! DMB…there’s your missing nomination!

At some point the hares vanished into thin air and left dazed and confused hashers stumbling around the parking lot looking for dots. In fact, several hashers were certain the hares were probably just sitting at the bar. But Pornogenic, with her keen eye, found the Biggest True Trail mark ever, so huge we could have tripped over it, and we were on our way. It was an okay trail, I suppose, with lots of light, not a single check, no TP, no hills and absolutely no sawdust shiggy. Definitely, just another shitty trail.

Our fearless leader, thick-skinned Meta turned the circle into a “Do It Yourself” exercise in Religious Advising. No one had a November birthday. No one could remember significant runs. No one zenned or got lost. No one is traveling to a foreign country next week. We sang several songs more than once. Pornogenic sang all her favorite songs.

There were several hashshit nominations, however they were all for DMB. There were at least four…the two I remember were for Mistaking Nurse Hashshit for Meta on trail (or the other way around) and for DMB trying to nominate someone else but, for once, not being able to come up with another nomination! They were voted on and since there was a four-way tie it was suggested that it be decided by trial by down-down. Since there was no plunger, nor other hashshit, DMB resorted to filling her own vessel and in the end, the hashshit went to ….DMB. And in true “Do It Yourself” fashion, the tune was, “Do My Butt” (do my butt, do my butt, butt, butt) And in true DMB fashion, she forgot her cranium gear and had to drink…AGAIN. We swang ‘ro and the few that weren’t frozen solid, commenced to the on-after for more beer and a chance to relieve Deavers of most of their salt and pepper shakers. Which more than likely ended up in Just Mindy’s purse, since PMS was not in attendance.

In a rare moment of seriousness we remembered a fellow hasher, R U Shittin Me, who was loved by many and will undoubtedly be long remembered for the warm hospitality he showed the Big-Humpers for their annual campout. We sang a few tunes, raised our vessels and hoped that when it was all said and done, that he finished his beer.

On-[to not getting arrested Sat.] -On,

ICHY

Day 7: I can still feel the lighter burn on my fingers...

2007-11-07T10:41:00.000-06:00

I wish I had time today to write this...so it's a teaser. I will make time tomorrow.

I totally stole this idea from the blog I'm pimp'n today.

Badger Meets World

But her video gave me goosebumps. The sound of his voice immediately delivers me back 20 odd years ago. And always with a smile and a sigh. The soundtrack to most of my adult life is set to....

I will not apologize.

And the Raised On Radio concert in 1986 was my first, and therefore, BEST concert ever. I even saw them a few years ago without Steve Perry [collective gasp] and they were STILL awesome.

If for some reason this does not totally (like, fer sure) make you reach for the hairspray and a Bic lighter, I'm sorry, we can no longer be friends.

It's all about the Naked [not the nekkid] here in Dorkville.

What are your guilty pleasures?

Walrus...behave.

Day 6: Saved from blathering nonsense by a scheduled blogger outage!

2007-11-06T21:42:00.000-06:00

Because I have NOTHING to add. Well, of course I do. I'm just so exhausted that it's hard to breathe.

My sister-friend JJ summed it up perfectly for us...

She remarks, "You are good birth control."

Indeed, I believe I probably am. My warm fuzzies have all dried up and flown away today. My patience has taken leave.

The good news is, it can be fixed with a good sleep. And when my boy smiles at me. Two things that are overdue.

So until I recharge, go check out JJ's thoughts. She's way too damn far away. Korea should really be in Iowa.

KOREA LAUGHS

Day 5: The One Where I Ran My A$$ Off All Day

2007-11-05T21:36:00.000-06:00

Seriously. Enough with the neverending list of things to do.

So, *sigh*. Big news forthcoming. But until then...

I am hosting another girl scout meeting tomorrow. It will be very lame and I will explain how my meeting idea got pimped tomorrow I suppose. But you all remember what happened LAST TIME I HOSTED A MEETING.

Right.

So, since it's Monday, not Tuesday, like I predicted...here's the mother, sister, wife, daughter I want to be when I grow up. So beautifully human, that one.
A few of my favorites...

PROMISED

I read this on a very pivotal day...and I will be forever grateful for the laughter through tears on that morning.

IDAHO

And for good mommies everywhere in charge of the wind and the rain and the sun that turns into our precious children...

RAINBOWS

Enjoy!
My butts goin to bed. I have glue to sniff tomorrow night.

Day 4: I wonder if Rock Stars get up for Ibuprofen and go straight back to bed?

2007-11-04T21:43:00.000-06:00

Courtesy of "Just Brenda"...

"How did Burger King get Dairy Queen pregnant?"

"He for got to wrap his Whopper."

I can't post Just Paula's joke, because "It just ain't right...".

Other things overheard at the Cheesehead Hash...

"Please pass the schnapps!" "Start Suckin!"

"Just Brenda and Just Paula in the circle for having the same haircuts!"

"Ditka!"

"Waukesha sucks!"

No Dead Squirrel, "58" doesn't beat ANYTHING in Mexican.

I also had to say, out loud, several times that there is "No Puking in the Mommymobile." Ever.

I'm sure I'm forgetting a ton but a couple of 36 yr old moms partied like we said we would. Like ROCKSTARS. And then Paula got up and ran 5 miles. Like a ROCKSTAR in training. I opened up a diet coke and waited for the icepick to stop stabbing my left eyeball.

Day 3: And Plenty Of Sleep!

2007-11-03T09:23:00.000-05:00

I slept for 9 straight hours last night.

That means I can party like a rock star tonight!

Saturday is a hashing day!

Oh, there will be pictures of azzchaps. Or assless chaps.

And speaking of someone who I'm sure has worn a pair or two, ....

KEVIN CHARNAS

Day 2: Yay for Friday

2007-11-02T15:13:00.000-05:00

I be blog-pimpin. In the event that I run out of nonsense. I see that happening about tuesday. But there's some good stuff out there...so check it!
(My apologies to the authors if I can't get the linky thing right. I'm on it!)

DOOCE

At the top of my link list. Nuff said. I LOVED her recent post about Halloween. And I actually sent her an email that told her that as much as I liked her writing...the fact that in all of her photos her floors are spankin clean, makes me want to lick them. Funny...I didn't hear back.

It's been a busy week. Maybe big news soon! But not yet! I'm not very patient about waiting! Must! Know! Now!

So it's a good thing the girls are in for the weekend. :) Azzchaps! I highly recommend the nudie picture game if you ever find yourself in a bar with a Megatouch monitor. I told you Missouri is fun.

Here's a picture of the goblins in their Halloween costumes. I might add that I MADE the ghost costume (two years ago?) and it came together perfectly (NOT) the first (really...the third) time I put it together with the help of my very handy (thread-eating) sewing machine while humming (cussing a blue streak and crying) the Sound of Music (Monster Ballad CD) soundtrack.

And then I made a 5 course meal right after I ironed the sheets.

Bwaahaahaa! [evil laughter]

A Challenge...

2007-11-01T11:21:00.000-05:00

I can't for the life of me remember the acronym for the National Blogging Month whatever. NaBloPoMo??? I don't know...and there's too much clicking involved to get it right. So, good start yes?

The idea is to blog every day for the month of November. I did not officially sign up (I suppose there's prizes or publishing deals or something) but I'm going to give it a shot. I know I don't have all that much to say. But I'll try and get my funny on and see what happens.

Any suggestions? Anything you're dying to know?

My girls are coming this weekend! :) I'm so excited. There will be toasted raviolis and shopping and Cheesehead Virgin hashing and Schnapps (which reminds me...) and some wineries.

Missouri is FUN, y'all.

Bike Love

2007-10-23T11:47:00.000-05:00

Next on my topic list is what I called “Bike Love, of a different sort.”

In an old post, the one about MeMeMe (stop it, I know they’re all about me. I am kind of a big deal) I listed motorcycles as being something I feared. That was left over from another time and another chapter but was a knee-jerk reaction just the same.

Then I met an amazing someone who made me feel safe, on the back of a bike, and I realized it wasn’t the machine I was afraid of. It was the giving up control and trusting the person driving to help me feel comfortable and safe and not forgetting that I was on the back, holding on.

And it hit me; "IT", the bike, is a metaphor for a relationship, if I’ve ever heard one.

I am no expert in that department. But the things I’ve learned and what my heart tells me are important to a successful partnership are very similar to what I’ve been given glimpses of while on the bike with the boy I call My Favorite:

It should be fun. Like playing in the sunshine, wind in my hair, grinning with bugs in my teeth, fun.

The destination should not be important. But the time it takes to get there should always seem just a little too short.

It should be comfortable for a long ride and feel solid underneath when the trip is longer or harder than first planned.

It should be ridden, and not left to get dusty in the garage. I feel a “take your breath away” kind of freedom that must be the secret that all those Harley riders keep in their pockets. I get it now. If it’s something that makes me happy, I will find a way to make time for it.

That it is necessary to ride solo sometimes. There is a lightness that comes with an unscheduled ride and when the bike allows an escape, away from stress and life, it should feel good to return home and know you’ve been missed.

And when riding on the back, I should feel safe. It’s a vulnerable position to be in, to be sure. Believing that it's okay to let go and completely trust someone who won’t forget I’m back there. To be wanted there.

Because that's me... with the helmet hair, grinning like mad but still a little scared sometimes.

I have learned not to worry about love; but to honor its coming with all my heart.
-Alice Walker
US novelist (1944 - )

Night Flashes

2007-10-20T00:51:00.000-05:00

I see them.

How can this be happening?

The Mothers, The Daughters

The first place I read about this was in GLAMOUR magazine. To me, that is shameful. Why am I not aware that in Africa, the fighters (I will not call them soldiers) are using rape against women and children as a weapon in a war.

Today I will run for them.

Shocking...the one where I talk about me...

2007-10-10T11:35:00.000-05:00

Well, friends. What an interesting couple of months it’s been and so much has changed since that first post over 16 months ago. Time marches on. There was a time that I felt life was galloping away from me, leaving me stuck between what I knew and what I’d hoped for. But here I am a year and a few months later, shaking my head and smiling because life is just that amazing.[I know...right?] I’ve been trying to find the right words for awhile now; so I’ll just have to start and see what I end up with. Like an old absent *ahem..Ggg* friend is wont to remind me…just write, just write, just write. No epiphanies…just a whole bunch of stuff buzzing around in my head.

As I mention in the earlier teasing posts…there was hardware. My particular brand of courage comes to me in fits and starts; when the well threatens to run dry I’m able to fill it up by sucking it up, answering only to myself and surrendering to the discipline of training [sometimes yielding painfully slow forward progress] and toeing the line at a race.

There were three races this summer. The first, started at a time when I spent at least as much energy holding myself together as I did going through the motions of the short little race. I was overwhelmed and slept for an entire afternoon afterwards, but I did it. The second was a familiar one, this being my third consecutive Alligator Creek Tri which resulted in a PR (personal record) and the best part was my girl PJ was there to cheer me on. I could not think of a better way to spend my 36th birthday. My best girls are runners, rockstars really, and when I made the move over to multisport I lost a little of the camaraderie we shared. They are far from me, but their girl power isn’t diminished by distance and I’m so glad P was there and brought her awesome family along as well. They spoil me and the truest gift is the time we are able to spend in each other's company. The third marked a huge milestone for me. One I didn’t even recognize until a day or two before the race.

One of the favorite and longest running races held in the area is sort of the season ending St. Louis area “Championship” race. 750 participants, it sells out very early in the season and is where a lot of the local speedsters duke it out in a little friendly competition. I got in this race last year, paid the fees, flew through the practice session the weekend before, but then my life as I knew it, imploded the night before the race. To be anywhere but with my babies that next morning would have been unfathomable. I was paralyzed under the weight of their sadness and rightfully so. There would be no refund, no do-over. There would, however, be a moving forward.

So cut to the race morning 2007. Stunning morning. Cool and calm. The realization that I was finally coming full circle and finishing what I didn’t really get to start a year ago was mostly bittersweet but also empowering. Everyone standing out there in the early morning sunshine had a different motivation to be there. Different life experiences that they were carrying with them, just as I was. Met with quiet determination and the knowledge that they had prepared the best they could and would deal with whatever the day threw at them. I didn’t run the race that day in 2006, but it took every bit of preparation and experience and luck and support that I had accumulated all the years prior to soldier on this past year and be able to toe the line in 2007.

Now, instead of quietly deflecting the questions as to why I was a DNS (did not start) at the 2006 race, I can now explain that I took third in my age group and how everything came together at the end of my racing season. My babies didn’t see the smile on my face as I crossed the finish line and accepted my plaque; but it was for them.

And I can't wrap it up without saying something about the determination of the wheelchair athletes I saw during the race. All under the age of 20, they put in the miles just like the rest of us; but with bodies that don't always cooperate. There are times in every race, hell, even most training days where it would be easy to quit. Just walk it in. Those kids are stronger than I can ever hope to be and I find that incredibly motivating. And humbling. And it makes me proud to be competing shoulder to shoulder, on the same playing field.

Part 2: Bike love...of a different sort.

Still Takes My Breath Away

2007-10-05T08:47:00.000-05:00

Took this picture from my bike last night. It's October, but the weather is more like June. And just like I experienced at the end of the season last year, this is the ride that will carry me through those dark, cold winter months.

As a pedaled last night I thought about the long overdue update I've got started. But I was also thinking about how so many of my friends have been diagnosed with cancer this year. Maybe it's my age. Bodies start to show signs of wear and tear. And mostly I'm okay with that, because at this age all the wrinkles and weirdness that has been going on with my skin and bones is somewhat amusing and I've earned it. When I am old, I want to have used up my body and have some great stories to go along with it. So I can tell my audiologist all about it when she's got a waiting room full of patients to see before she can go to lunch. But I digress.

But I'm not okay with the fact that with every one of my friends and acquaintences who get the shocking diagnosis, there will be suffering. Hopefully it's fleeting. It's hard not to know what to do. But I read one plus two: brother can you spare a dime and realized it doesn't really matter what I do when someone is hurting, as long as I respond.

Sticks and Stones

2007-09-25T22:04:00.000-05:00

Writing is a hobby for me. It would be nice to make a living at it but it‘s not why I do it. I’ve said before I appreciate the clarity it gives me, how it allows friends to get to know me better and I'm just narcissistic enough to get satisfaction from comments that indicate that what I said made someone think. It does not mean that that person has to agree with me. But like Jen said, I also feel like if you’re going to read about what is most important to me, it’s almost like being a guest in my living room. Most people I know, don't make themselves comfortable in cozy corner next to the fireplace with the intention of insulting the host. I mention this, because there is someone who consistently comments on my thoughts in a way that comes across as bitter and judgemental regarding the way I perceive my life unfolding. Since it seems to me to be less than honest, hiding behind an acronym that has a negative connotation, I rarely give his comments a second thought. And he even made me think regarding some posts about the Middle East conflict. I think Gandhi said, “Our enemies should be our best teachers.” or something like that. And one of the ways I hope to be successful is in the words of Emerson…” to win the appreciation of honest critics”. But this person's criticisms are not honest because I do not know the motivation behind them and they don't own their words.

So, that being said, there was some talk from this person awhile back, that touched on the idea of regret. Now, that is a tricky word. The word implies a negative connotation and when you consider the social aspect of guilt one could correlate that with the intention to shame. This is the exact opposite of what my post regarding “Living my life without regret” was intending to say. It meant to say that I was at peace with the difficult decisions I have made. It includes the realization that until I am comfortable with who I am becoming and what my place in this life is, I have no business trying to influence anyone else. And that includes my beautiful daughters. But it is something I think about every day...squeezing as much joy and peace as I can find because I believe that makes me a better Mother. In fact, the decisions I’ve made may not appear to make sense to anyone but until you’ve walked in my shoes, no one has the right to judge them. But rest assured, those girls are the reason behind 95% the decisions that put me right where I stand today. So I do not in any way have regret for actions I have taken. Forced, or otherwise. What I believe I would have regretted, is not making the necessary changes and living a life inconsistent from what I felt was honest and authentic. Because I do not regret the decisions does not mean that I wasn't left profoundly changed by the relationships that I had to leave behind.

So, everyone who is faced with making unpopular but necessary decisions, I applaud your courage and conviction. I will never again assume that I have an insight into someone’s marriage or family life based on appearances. And then there’s the words that sum it up so much more effectively…

You will be walking some night
In the comfortable dark of your yard
And suddenly a great light will shine
Round about you, and behind you
Will be a wall you never saw before…

Though you have done nothing shameful,
They will want you to be ashamed.
They will want you to kneel and weep
And say you should have been like them…

Be ready.
When their light has picked you out
And their questions are asked, say to them:
“I am not ashamed.” A sure horizon
Will come around you. The heron will begin
His evening flight from the hilltop.
-Wendell Berry, from “Do Not Be Ashamed”

Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom. -Aristotle

2007-09-20T13:08:00.001-05:00

Wow. My last post was a month and 10 days ago. And yet my counter continues to go up. How very cool is that?

So, where in the world have I been? WELL...

I will tell you.

But first I will tease you.

It involves hardware and Harleys and catholic school girl outfits and birthdays and wayfaring strangers and weddings and miles.

My 35th year was the hardest so far. But look at me. I'm still here.

Laughing.

Imagine A Woman

2007-08-10T08:33:00.000-05:00

Oh the Joys did it again. Check out her post from today.

But I'm stealing this.

Imagine A Woman
Patricia Lynn Reilly

Imagine a woman
who believes it is right and good she is woman.
A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories.
Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.

Imagine a woman
who believes she is good.
A woman who trusts and respects herself.
Who listens to her needs and desires and meets them with tenderness and grace.

Imagine a woman
who has acknowledged the past's influence on the present.
A woman who has walked through her past.
Who has healed into the present.

Imagine a woman
who authors her own life.
A woman who exerts, initiates, and moves on her own behalf.
Who refuses to surrender except to her truest self and to her wisest voice.

Imagine a woman
who names her own gods.
A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness.
Who designs her own spirituality and allows it to inform her daily life.

Imagine a woman
in love with her own body.
A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is.
Who celebrates her body and its rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.

Imagine a woman
who honors the face of the Goddess in her changing face.
A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and her wisdom.
Who refuses to use her precious life energy disguising the changes in her body and life.

Imagine a woman
who values the women in her life.
A woman who sits in circles of women.
Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.

Imagine yourself as this woman.

Copyright 1995 Patricia Lynn Reilly

Laughter gives us distance. It allows us to step back from an event, deal with it and then move on. -Bob Newhart

2007-08-08T09:15:00.000-05:00

Orf, you're the man. Thanks for this.

THIS

So I'm reading this book. Off and on while in the pool trying to keep the skin from actually melting of my [big-boned...what?] skeleton. It's hot here.

Book is called "Bleachy-Haired Honky Bitch: Tales from a Bad Neighborhood" by Hollis Gillespie. I know. Not everyone is as amused by colorful language as I am lately. It's just a silly memoir that helps me remember my life is not the only one that borders on the absurd and pathetic on a DAILY BASIS. And a lot of finding blessed humor in it is really just paying attention.

The book itself is not all that great or I would have finished it by now. But I'm aware that my maybe unusually, to quote a friend, cryptic (?) and darker posts may have rang some alarm bells. I am fine. Just finding my way after a whole lot of changes in the past year. There are no regrets, even after having my heart handed back to me on a platter. Even though I ignored the warning signs that in hindsight are unmistakable.

Anyway, I've been paying attention. To every feeling instead of pushing them away and hoping they'll either go away on their own or allowing distractions to lull me into believing I can deal with them later. I believe this is something I need to work on and it has not been easy. At all. Struggling with anger and honest sadness is not something I'm very familiar with. But I could never give up the comfort of words. And I read this: "I sensed then that later I'd become familiar with how painful it is to bleed life back into an atrophied part of yourself, to come alive after the comfort of deadness." And it made me sigh, "Huh. Ok then. Not just me."

Alright, enough already. I'm pretty sure, that one of my favorite sources of giggles (if he read my blog, which I'm sure he doesn't) would remind me I am way too Emo, he's sick of me bleeding all over, I'm a loser and that not even Jesus loves me. And then I'd call him an a**hat and remind him I embrace my loserness. And life goes on.

Thank you friends.

Why It's Impossible to Take Myself So Seriously...

2007-08-03T11:37:00.000-05:00

I got email from Runner's World Magazine yesterday with this subject, "Are You Fat?". They obviously have not been reading my blog seeing as how I addressed this with a t-shirt awhile back.

Anyhoo, B had an idea involving the Brady Bunch.

Throw out some favorite episodes...and I'll attempt to rank them based on comments. All 4 of you. GO!

We've already got "Marcia, Marcia, Marcia" and "Porkchopsh and Appleshaush". And I"m also throwing in the one where they sing and Bobby's (?) voice goes through the "change".

PINK

2007-08-03T08:38:00.001-05:00

For Her. Mother, wife, daughter, sister, mentor, friend. I have not walked in her shoes. But it is possible that a life can be divided into a "before" and "after". Today is the day that line gets blurred.

Angels on shoulders.

She steps blinking out of the darkness...

2007-08-01T12:17:00.000-05:00

I've got a serious mope going on... I'm getting really good at it too. Please pass the black eyeliner and bad hair.

So I think it's probably time for a top 10 list. Anyone want to throw out any themes? Summertime fun? Back to school? Why it's harder to put a heart back together at age 35 than it was at age 20?

My silly brain also cracked up at this little advertising tidbit from my inbox this morning...

"Moody friends. Drama queens. Your life? Nope! - their life, your story. Play Sims Stories at Yahoo! Games."

Sign me the hell up!

A Tidy Heart

2007-07-18T10:29:00.000-05:00

And this posting is why Kristen Armstrong gets paid the big bucks.

"We talked about how we could all love better than we do, extending grace and generously offering what we have to share." Outstanding.

Please send positive thoughts to a special person in our life who's facing the biggest challenge of her life. She plays by all the rules, never takes the easy way out and somehow she was chosen to fight an opponent she had no intention of provoking. She will win because she is strong and stubborn (Irish) and she will show many of us, who may unwillingly face the same battle, how it's done.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

2007-07-13T12:26:00.000-05:00

Life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets.

So love the people who treat you right, forget about the ones who don't, and believe that everything happens for a reason.

If you get a chance, take it.
If it changes your life, let it.

Nobody said it would be easy;
they only promised it would be worth it.

This made me feel lighter today. And so did the time I spent at home. I have a feeling that my hometown will always be "home" for me. It's not that way for everyone. Some people can make the place they live their home. I haven't yet. Home is a place I go back to, to feel the most like myself. Even after 15 years, familiar faces and familiar places all bring back so many memories.

The lake was in it's most glorious mood. Not angry and muddy.

I was able to spend some relaxed time with my parents who are so good to me and hang with my nephew who grew up when I wasn't looking.

I was kissed by thousands of butterflies as I rode my bike along the almost deserted Point Beach Rustic Road.

I got to spend time with my best girls and their kiddos and got to watch mine and theirs play in the same pool that I spent entire summers in when I WAS THEIR AGE. And very little had changed, aside from being smaller somehow. And the familiar faces!

This trip, more than other recent ones, stirred up long ago forgotten memories. Happy ones. And I am grateful.

Girls In the 'Hood

2007-06-27T14:22:00.000-05:00

We are headed to the Great Up Nort on July 4th for a few days of fun and relaxation. First on the list are some of these with the other side of my brother's family...

And then because I insist on strapping my children [er, BIKE] to the back of the van there will be some of this...

So, please, if you see someone looking like this heading north from TR with a white brain bucket, please share the road so I don't look like this...

Even though I'm not that hairy, yet.

And then I get to love on a few of my friends and their kiddos....

Can't wait! 'Sconnie, here I come! Give me a shout if you're going to be where it's "Cooler by the Lake"!

That's only funny if you're from Wisconsin.

"...the true greatness of a nation is founded on principles of humanity." -Thomas Paine

2007-06-26T14:30:00.000-05:00

"The Constitution expressly and exclusively vests in the Legislature the power of declaring a state of war. The separation of the power of declaring war from that of conducting it is wisely contrived to exclude the danger of its being declared for the sake of its being conducted." -James Madison

Wow, you guys. That was an excellent debate and I learned a ton and it’s an example of how some fundamentals of things American can go right sometimes in spite of all the wrong. Dialog, that provokes real thinking, and the First Ammendment, aided by this 21st century thing called blogging is always a good thing. I wish some of the lurkers would have chimed in. I have to plead an inconsistent and FUBAR internet access for my lack of moderating that whole debate. Thanks for being respectful of each other in my living room and Jen, saying that my blog was a safe place for discussion was a huge compliment. Thanks for that!

So, after reading through all the comments from this weekend, just a few notes. I don’t necessarily want to open the whole thread again, just want you all to realize I heard what you were saying. Or in Greg’s case, SHOUTING, complete with throbbing, purple forehead vein I could see from here. ;) (love you piano man!)

I didn’t keep track of who said what but here goes:

One theme seemed to be trusting the media. I do not on the whole trust the local or even national news. But I’m blessed with a pretty logical brain (despite all evidence to the contrary based on what comes out of my pie hole) and can usually see both sides of a biased story. But it’s hard when you can’t trust the facts. I submit the photos. Photos do not lie. But context and preconceived ideas play a part. Because we are human. Just like our President. And our soldiers.

So, Bush as a monster. That assumes he had absolute power and was making decisions that would knowingly lead to a disastrous result. He may be a puppet, and a dope but I can’t carry it as far as calling him a monster. I believe he feels he was acting in the best interests of the country at the time with the information he had. Naive? Maybe. But I also have to believe that our leaders and their information sources know more than they are were/able to say and there are times when lying can save lives. I have to believe that not all of this mess was deliberate. And Greg, what you said rang very true for me...I SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED BETTER. Americans deserve better leadership and so do the countries that trust us. THAT is worth fighting for. Everything else sounds to me like placing blame and pointing fingers while chaos reigns. Unfortunately, politics will probably get in the way.

I have to object to Saddam being labeled as a good leader. He ruled out of fear. That is never effective. It may appear to be effective but it’s not. For leadership to be truly effective the leader must be trustworthy. And we stooped right down to his level, made decisions based on fear and I think Nick was right. Saddam had been playing his own little game for years and enjoyed making the US look foolish. I don’t know about you guys, but when they pulled him out of the hole in the dirt I felt like I was covered in the same mud. I felt like the US was just being dragged out right behind him. I had expected things to get better. I had hoped things would be better for the people he terrorized. Not so. The plan did not work.

Now what? Sadly, I dunno. Do we need new leadership? Maybe. Is it reasonable to expect that something new will be available in 2008 when it’s time to vote? And if we vote, will it matter? So I think maybe we did the one thing we could do. We talked about it. Hopefully made someone scratch their cranium and think, “Huh. That never occurred to me.”. I know I did.

You are a smart bunch of folks. Your parents and some of your teachers ought to give themselves a pat on the back.

WMD?

2007-06-22T13:11:00.000-05:00

I doubt I will make this most recent posts a permanent part of my "gratitude" journal. But maybe. Thanks for all the comments and for making me think a little. I was doing a little too much navel-gazing for my own good.

So, I was thinking about some pictures I saw a lifetime ago from 1988. When the man who supposedly had no WMDs unleashed an attack on people in his own country killing thousands of people in a single day. Makes me wonder how we define "weapons of mass destruction"?

Jiyan Means Life in Kurdish; In English, Death Will Do
Kani Xulam
The American Kurdish Information Network (AKIN)
http://www.kurdistan.org
June 30, 2003

I don‚t know if it ever happens to you, but it happens to me often, I am either listening to someone on the television or in a lecture hall -- granted that the person has piqued and kept my interest -- and then bingo, the person utters the name of an interesting book or movie, I rush to my pen and paper and jot down the information, and place it somewhere visible, like the corner of my yearly calendar by my desk in my office, till I get hold of the thing itself, to see for myself, if what I heard dovetails with what I read in the book or see in the film. It usually does. I read the book, An American Tragedy, by Theodore Dreiser this way and I am very grateful for the tip. Jiyan is a Kurdish film by Jano Rosebiani, stop reading this right now, reach out to your pen, post it paper, write it out, J-I-Y-A-N, and place it somewhere visible in your office or study till you either see it in a movie theater or rent it out from a video outlet.

You will be glad you did, I would not joke with you in a public forum like this one otherwise, and after seeing it, you will thank me for it, but the person you should thank and that goes for all the children of Kurdistan and their friends, past, present and the future, is the struggling Kurdish artist who first worked as an usher in a movie theatre some 26 years ago, and after watching not thousands but tens of thousands of films, moved his Kurdish camera to produce a Kurdish film that at first sight dazzles you with its beauty and horror, joy and sorrow, soaring human spirit and depravity of the kind that makes you wonder if humans deserve to live on this earth, and all of it, in a span of 94 minutes; in short, all your senses, good and bad, are treated to a veritable feast with the culmination of, you guessed it, hope triumphing over despair, life blooming in moonscape, and Jiyan, the ten year old Kurdish girl whose last and parting shot in the film is her face with rivulets of tears flowing from her eyes, in slow motion, outlasting her nemesis Saddam Hussein, and slowly gravitating towards a future, very fragile for her, of hope, of light and of beauty. But you are never too far from the day, in her words, when „chemical rain‰ poured on her -- disfigured her -- and her loved ones -- killed many -- while the „civilized‰ world was in a state of stupor, oblivious to the danger that blighted her kind and her generation, because the dead were Kurds and the murderer was Saddam Hussein, the first did not matter, the second made the indifference of those who could have spoken on this crime against humanity look glorious by comparison, for, at least, they did not harm their citizens.

I would be lying to you if I said that the movie did not disturb me. The temperature of my anger reached a crisis point. My tears flowed when I sensed that Jiyan was about to shed hers, they started flowing again every time I heard -- I could not keep my eyes open -- the Kurdish flutist, a Kurdish mullah, the equivalent of a priest in the Christian faith, play for God, or was it for the sun, moon and the stars, I don‚t know, on a rooftop in all weather, for the loss of his eight children and wife. I don‚t know why, but I thought of Arundhati Roy -- the lighting rod of the antiwar movement, I proudly marched along her likes, by the way, with my quaint sign, „Down With Saddam Hussein; No War, prompting one protester to ask me if I was for the war or against it, and leaving my conversation with this deluded activist aside for a moment, and getting back to Ms. Roy again, who came to embody the feelings of, by her counts, ten million people who marched, worldwide, against the recent war -- and wished to God, she were watching it with me. Referring to George Bush, she had often said, „he is more dangerous than Saddam Hussein. If she had seen the film, I was convinced now, knowing that the film would cure her of her ignorance, about the darling of the deluded, Saddam Hussein, not that I was equating the president of the United States to the Mother Theresa of Calcutta, she would go down on her knees, I imagined, true scholars eat their words with grace, and apologize to Jiyan and her blighted generation for the misuse of her pulpit, she is on C-SPAN all the time, to lash out with her acidic tongue against two wrong doers, one, Saddam Hussein, in her diction, a man as dangerous as Al Capone, who in his „best selling‰, ghost written, novels equates all Kurds to adulterous, treacherous, and fickle creatures; and the other, George Bush, treated as a modern day Adolph Hitler, who used the Kurds, to be sure, as a prop for the war, but had a better appreciation of the man who had used chemical weapons once and could do so again, remember Hitler who had reminded his generals how the Turks got away with the Armenian genocide, unless he was stopped in his tracks.

But it looks like there is a feeling of remorse gripping both the Great Britain as well as the United States, not because war is organized crime let loose and as much as possible should be avoided, and if undertaken, the United Nations should be the institution to invoke it -- that boneless wonder that did not even acknowledge the Kurdish dead when they were gassed in broad daylight -- but because the weapons of mass destruction have, get your eyes ready for this, not been found. I have to assume that these peaceniks and the inadvertent supporters of Saddam Hussein have never heard of the Kurds and their 281 villages, towns, and cities which were indiscriminately gassed not just in one day, between the sunrise and sunset, but in a span of eighteen months, in the course of an operation called al Anfal, which for those of you who are versed in Islam, the name means, the spoils, and comes from a chapter heading in Quran. Imagine if you will, Ariel Sharon using chemical weapons on a Palestinian settlement, and christening his diabolical plan with an Orwellian name, like, say, „tikkun! To paraphrase Ms. Roy, I can almost hear the footsteps of ten million peace activists marching in the streets of major cities all over the world, all shouting in unison, „Never Again! It would be a sight out of this world, signifying the hypocrisy of our generation of peace activists, who are quick to condemn the wrongs of Israelis and Americans, but hardly can be bothered, when the unspeakable is committed in the name of Islam and by the likes of people like Saddam Hussein.

For online version of this article: http://kurdistan.org/Our_Views_and_Iraq/jiyan063003.html

Axis of Evil?

2007-06-13T09:30:00.000-05:00

Don't mean to be preachy. Would be quite hypocritical coming from the biggest "flip-flopper" in the universe on the subject of the most recent conflict. But dear God, enough already. Take a minute, say a prayer, send vibes, whatever might influence those who are supposed to listen the voice of reason on all sides. Maybe it needs to be louder.

LINK And scroll to Sat. June 9th post, follow the link to daddytypes to get the backstory.

[Thanks Kevin (www.kevincharnas.com) for making me aware]

This is what happy looks like on me...

2007-06-06T17:14:00.000-05:00

On the whole, the happiest people seem to be those who have no particular cause for being happy except that they are so. ~William R. Inge

Smiling and sweating from a run in the woods; but notice I am not in pieces... :)

No need to check the river!

Just so you know...

2007-05-25T12:58:00.000-05:00

I'm alive and well and have NOT, as I have may or may not have been worried about at one point or another, been chopped up and thrown in the Mississippi River. But that's another story.

And in case you were wondering, and are prepared should the opportunity present itself, there is NOTHING more amazing than watching your daughter stand on a stage, by herself, in front of the entire elementary school and assembled parents and sing like an angel. From the beautiful depths of her heart, without fear or apprehension. Her voice was sweet and strong and I was so proud of her.
(I know what you're thinking...give us a break already...don't worry, alien Mimi returned and promptly rolled her eyes at me before the hour was up. I'll take my sweet mommy moments when I can get them. They are getting fewer and further between lately)

In other news, I signed up to go camping.

In the woods.

In a tent.

With the bugs.

And the sweating.

And some other stuff. If you don't hear from me after next weekend? Check the river.

Hopefully I'll check in more next week; lots of stuff going on with this girl!

"Of all the rights of women, the greatest is to be a mother." -- Lin Yutang

2007-05-14T22:02:00.000-05:00

Ok, I'm late. That should surprise no one. Least of all my mother. Whom I thought of often as I spent a precious day with my two beauties. And how, since she is many miles away from her only daughter...I could not take for granted the simple act of sharing a wink and a smooch with my Rock star and a hug with an extra squeeze from my Princess. Mom, I missed you on your day and I wanted to say that out loud. You are loved.

I ran today. It was hot. That is all.

Reminded once again that my existence is barely tolerable to certain 9 year old...

2007-05-12T19:41:00.000-05:00

The setting: Huge indoor pool hosting a high school water polo match and way too many babies in swim diapers. Humid & noisy. On my last nerve.

Mimi comes running over, drips cold water all over me,grabs goggles from the bag to the left of my chair, and puts them on. Looks at me while working her face to make sure the huge goggles are fitting tight enough to make her eyeballs pop out.

Me: "Mimi, have you seen your sister lately?"

Mimi: "Yes, she's *mumble* in the *mumble*-tex."

[Scooting away, trying not to run.]

Me a little louder: "She's playing with a boy named Tex?"

Morgan whips around and screams after throwing out her skinny little arms: "She's playing in the VORTEX!!!!!!"

Oh boy. The teenage years should be interesting.

******************************

Ima Hasher!!

2007-05-06T10:43:00.000-05:00

Seriously, that was the most fun I've had in forever. Except for that trip to Idaho. So I'm gonna tease you and then put my throbbing head (hee, I said throbbing head!) back in the freezer.

I made the drive from home to Belleville IL via Collinville. WRONG! Made it just in time to be introduced to Dick Smith who dispensed with my "nerd" name and I took the customary Virgin name of Just Erin. As soon as the group heard "virgin" I was very quickly pounced upon and offered a beer and introductions were made. As someone who is horrible with names, I remember FeFe (Ironman, get it?), Meta Arsehole, AssBackwards,Hump Up the Volume, Pees like a Princess, Sexorcist, PMS, Postage Tramp and Cliff Bangher. I was told I was going to have to tell a joke, sing a song, or reveal a hidden bodypart...eventually. So I took them up on the beer. And got naked. (NOT nekkid...see prior post)

Is it possible that I could be seeing my pulse in my eyeballs? Ack, and I'm meeting Tori for a 2 hour ride in about 2 hours.

More later...or probably tomorrow. There were pictures...

My To-Do List Gets a Little Shorter

2007-05-05T14:33:00.000-05:00

I am a slug. Today is a mental health day. It is 1:16pm and the only times my feet have hit the ground this morning were when I got up to get 2 diet cokes, a peanut butter sandwich and to use the bathroom. Dozing, reading, watched the two hour episode of Grey's Anatomy online (more tears...what the hell is WRONG with me!)and general wallowing. Good thing I'm not allowed to do this very often. Would probably stay here a few more hours except I can't stand myself anymore and the Princess requested me from afar and I must do her bidding.

And then there's THIS tonight; I will be crossing off something I added to my "to do" list way back in December. There will be running and beer and flour and/or toilet paper and funny names and rude songs. From what I hear. Oh, and hopefully laughing.

Through history the ways of truth and love have always won. -Mahatma Gandi

2007-05-05T00:04:00.000-05:00

When I despair, I remember that all through history the ways of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants, and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end they always fall. Think of it, always. -Mahatma Gandhi

I have always been unapologetically moved and humbled by the men and women who have volunteered to protect and defend our country. I am thankful that I was born here. Even when, collectively, we manage to make some really questionable decisions regarding what is good and just. But for the grace of God, go I.

This VIDEO made me weep. (Make sure your speakers are on) Photographs do that to me sometimes. And emotions are raw.

I found this video on the day that it was announced that 4000 new US troops had landed in Baghdad.

The babies.

Authenticity is being true to oneself...when no one's looking and in spite of when everyone is. -E. Meara

2007-04-24T19:13:00.000-05:00

Help! After much procrastinating and hand-ringing, I think I set myself up to potentially disappoint here. I've been stewing over this post for over a week now. So I'm taking Nik's (and ggg's before her) advice and just writing dammit!

First...training. A little running here and there, a bike ride straight thru the eye of a hurricane Sunday morning (thank God my computer is screwed up again because it would have been beyond discouraging to know exactly how slow I was going at maximum effort for almost 2 hours) and this morning almost 3000 yards broken into sets at race pace with more "fun" active recovery/near drowning laps thrown in. There were almost 20 of us in the pool today and during the fast sets the pool was completely silent, which usually is a tell-tale sign that we're all working pretty hard. Or it seemed silent; I couldn't hear much but my wheezing and the pounding in my ears. Maybe I'm exaggerating a little but I still came up short compared to several of the hairy Speedo-clad people. Eww.

So, getting naked. As opposed to nekkid. Sorry to disappoint...but it ain't all that. Not even close.

Disclaimer: Much navel-gazing to follow. Read at your own risk.

I read an article recently about authenticity. It really struck a chord with me because I've been doing a lot of work in the area of my own emotional honesty, or authentic self, and how I chose to present it, or communicate my truth. It has been an outstanding privilege and a joy for me to connect with people, both old and new over the past year. I have very willingly taken off my emotionally awkward clothes and allowed myself to be naked. Scary! Terrifying! Empowering! To decide what parts of my past I'm taking with me and to see clearer how I'm going to choose the truths that cover me and protect me in the future.

For the past year, I've been using the written word as the main mode through which I examine who I am and who I hope to become, and one of the reasons I chose writing is because words have always been a comfort to me. Sometimes I just like the way certain words go together and I like finding just the right combination that explains or allows someone to share in the experience of looking outward with me. I am often desperately hopeless when it comes to actually speaking in complete sentences which is why I love to wrap a thought in the perfect words that would otherwise rattle around in my chest and explode out of my mouth unchecked and uncensored. (and ungrammer-checked! Gah!). Sometimes I'm just testing the waters to see if I'm out of bounds or to see how I measure up. So I write to say, in my grammatically-incorrect, punctuation-optional way that I recognize that we all have feelings and hopes and insecurities. These, the ones I try to find some humor in, are mine. Take em or leave em. And I am completely okay with the fact that my truth may be completely different from the perceptions of others. Unless we have a dialog, you may be mistaking some fancy emotional clothes for pink-skinned, jiggly-assed nakedness. I’m okay with that. And I’ll still put words together and enjoy the fact that you read them.

The last few weeks it seems as though I’m particularly naked and I invite you to be brave enough to do the same. I’m actually a little surprised at what I’m seeing in the mirror. I wonder if it’s possible to be too exposed, too vulnerable. I’m working on it.

Oh, and it turns out, I have a wickedly inappropriate sense of humor. So there’s always that to fall back on if you get bored with the truth.

Bitch, please.

The One Where I Talk About Getting Naked

2007-04-20T14:45:00.000-05:00

Ha! Got your attention! I will talk about getting naked. But not like you think. Soon.

Since this is also a training log...I've been putting some time in on the pavement and the pool. And the results are starting to show. Thank God. But my swim coach has taken his torture to a new level. It's called Active Recovery. Which I've heard used with swimming and running. Doesn't really apply to my running since my "fast, tempo" running is pretty much the same speed as my "long, slow distance" pace. So, there's really no need for "recovery" from a fast heartrate. (However, I can't expect to get any faster with that method either...but at least I'm moving!!!)

So, Active Recovery. Does not mean hanging in the pool gutter panting for chlorine-laden oxygen like I would normally do after a set at 80% effort in which a hairy-speedo clad person sharing my lane, swimming the SAME PACE I do, attempts to outswim me. NO! Active recovery means after swimming hard enough for green and red spots to form at the bottom of the pool due prolonged oxygen deprivation, I get to the wall, listen for the coach to yell out my time to let me know if I've made my interval (yes, I did 100% of the time thursday, yay me!)and immediately head back down the lane for a "recovery" lap. Crap. I much prefer gasping while hanging off the side of the pool with my face as red as the swim cap I wear. Coach says "NAY-NAY". Off you go. But I believe I will get faster. And those green and red spots are kinda pretty.

You Took The Words Right Out of My Mouth...

2007-04-18T21:32:00.000-05:00

But he said it better than I could ever hope to.

READ THIS.

Above all, let's be kind.

Back to the drawing board.

Postcards from the Edge

2007-04-17T17:58:00.000-05:00

Hey out there. I’m still around. According to the little counter I have down there, there are still people who think to check in and see what I’m up to. And to me, that means a lot. So, thank you. I have been thinking....and you know what that means. Eventually the mess in my head makes it’s way out through my fingertips. It always seems that the more I move my flesh and bone, the clearer things become upstairs. So as I move more, but not necessarily faster, the words begin to take shape.
I’m thinkin the next one should be a doozy.

Hurry Up And Wait...

2007-03-28T09:08:00.000-05:00

Lacking all enthusiasm for this little project lately, I'm going to have to resort to stuff that makes me snort and spit diet coke up my nose and all over my keyboard... and a training log.

This tickled the "WTF?" part of my sometimes too literal brain for a whole bunch of reasons.

100% cotton American Apparel brand women's tee

Front: "I Wish Somebody Would Do Something About How Fat I Am"

Color: Cranberry

American Apparel brand tees tend to run small. Consider ordering up a size.

From The Onion Store

Umm, hello? I'm all about passing the buck on my extra layer of insulation. It is absolutely someone elses fault. Specifically the girl scout cookie people and the "let's put a McDonalds on every corner and add a dollar menu for the over-stressed, over-booked broke people" people.

HOWEVER, do we really need to add insult to injury by using t-shirts that run SMALL and that are 100% cotton (hello! shrinkage!) And those adorable little fitted cap sleeves? Puh-lease. If I were to sport this t-shirt there would be no cute little "oh the irony" smirk from someone reading my chest. Unless maybe there was the word "LITERALLY" written underneath the design. Anyone else dying to know how many XXL versions of this they sold?

Ok, so that was fun. Obviously I was serious when I said I really didn't have anything.

Training....yes, I have been. Running. Much more than usual. Ack. My mantra has become, "Sucks now - Stronger later".
Racing schedule looks to be:
University City Memorial Day 10K
Rec-Plex Tri June 17th
Octomax (maybe, just maybe!!! Quartermax) July 22
Alligator Creek Tri August 19th
Lake St. Louis Sept. 2?

So, yeah. That's one a month.

Global Warming?

2007-03-21T12:03:00.000-05:00

Has anyone noticed how schizophrenic Mother Nature is lately? I’m really trying to get back into the training these last few weeks and have been doing pretty well. Last week I ran in almost 80 degree temps, with lots of humidity in shorts and a tank top. Three days later I ran with huge snowflakes blowing DIRECTLY INTO MY EYEBALLS for an hour. Less than 48 hours later I ran again in shorts and a t-shirt. I’m starting to think Al Gore may have a point.

Tomorrow, the girls and I are road-tripping to the Motherland. We are voluntarily leaving a place where it’s supposed to be 70 degrees and the club is organizing bike rides, and instead spending 8 hours in cramped and messy van to prolong our winter as long as humanly possible. Why? Because there’s important people to see up there and although the stubborn Winter is reluctant to give in to a tentative Spring, we will bask in the warmth of family and friends. And I am grateful.

The breakdown...475 miles + 8ish hours =

*Many potty stops and much eyerolling for mommy’s walnut sized bladder exacerbated by fountain diet coke
*4 movies on the DVD player (my children have been driven to various edges of the east coast and to the top of the continental divide without ever once looking out the windows)
*4 million crayons in the seat grooves in the bottom of the van (is it really so hard to put them back in the box!?)
*2 Happy Meals and two cans of Pringles (no matter how bad sour cream and onion chips reek) but NO chocolate (makes the little people very……um……disagreeable)
*Most of an audio book on my iPod when turning up the movie/opening the windows doesn’t drown out the inevitable whining (Undomestic Goddess by Sophie Kinsella……ironic, yes?)
*1000 times "what?!" because Kate starts everything that comes out of her mouth with "Mommy……" and waits for me to say ""what?"" NO MATTER WHAT I’M DOING and THE CHILD NEVER RUNS OUT OF THINGS TO SAY.
*100 times Kate will try to get the truck drivers to sound their horns when she pumps her fist in the air (I know. Just be glad she doesn’t realize how easy it is to get them to do that after puberty)

Time with family and friends?

PRICELESS!!

In the right light, at the right time, everything is extraordinary. -Aaron Rose

2007-03-16T10:31:00.000-05:00

Because I said I would:

Cue Jimmy Buffett

Link-a-licious...With Due Respect

2007-03-14T12:54:00.000-05:00

Life is Funny. With a capital F.

I fear that if my DSL connection ever gets yanked I might have to go to rehab.

I got to thinking, when I grow up I want to be her or her, and if she can build her retirement home in his nostrils than I want to build mine in hers. And then if I get fired I hope to have her attitude and that her mom will let me sell Avon products to the world. And until I do grow up, I am so stalking her, the real reason I was tempted to throw my hat in this silly blogging circus. (Book tour! This summer! Chicago!)

What or who (whom? grammer police, a little help here) did you want to be when you grew up? (Hello...is this thing on? Where y'all been?)

So, spring is teasing us a little here in MO. You know what that means! Time to get back on the bike! Which I did on Saturday. Kept the rubber side down. Made an interesting observation that the wind CAN indeed blow from all directions at once creating a significant headwind no matter which direction the handlebars are pointing. But boy did that wind and ride do wonders for clearing out the cobwebs of a very long winter.

(Edited from original post 3/23/07)

Laughter is the rock under my feet.

2007-03-09T13:36:00.000-06:00

It's a good thing to have all the props pulled out from under us occasionally. It gives us some sense of what is rock under our feet, and what is sand. -Madeleine Ll’Engle

Seriously, do not watch this with a full bladder... I almost peed my pants.

This looks suspiciously like my post from 2/1/07 put to annimation.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4MgoTFkSdc

Enjoy that...and if you want some more funny check out THIS .

We are tied to the ocean. -John F. Kennedy

2007-02-28T13:07:00.000-06:00

All of us have in our veins the exact same percentage of salt in our blood that exists in the ocean, and, therefore, we have salt in our blood, in our sweat, in our tears. We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea -- whether it is to sail or to watch it -- we are going back from whence we came.

More naval gazing….

I’m still processing my long anticipated trip to Cabo San Lucas, Baja California, Mexico. It was a return trip for me to the exact resort I had the privilege of staying at 5 years ago. I was also beyond excited to be able to share 5 basically uninterrupted days with Paula, whom I admire so much for her honest heart and unwavering friendship. Spending this time was such a gift; an effortless balance.

There were so many highlights; a flight attendant started my trip with a confetti party (we were still picking shredded napkin out of my hair in customs), dinner on the beach, pool time, Chilean Chardonney, Estoban our most attentive server, coca-cola light, the mission, Cabo Wabo and a bald guitar player, Mr. Kelly who finally told an annoying drunk to f**k off (and all I could think of was his lovely wife trying to bail him out of a Mexican jail!!!), missing the 1:30am (!!!!) bus, excellent food, even better company especially Corky and Gail, Melissa and Trip, Kelly and Ann, Dan and Vicki and of course Kevin who treated us like royalty. (Well, we strutted around like we owned the place so…duh.)

Towards the end of the trip we were chatting and I noticed that we had slightly different intentions going into the trip…Paula’s was to be more outgoing and step slightly outside her comfort level and mine was to look a little inward and reign in my usual tendency to connect with new people in an effort to do some letting go and be open to how the next chapter in my life is going to unfold. We certainly met and enjoyed spending time with some amazing people but we also balanced it with lots of quiet time…a rare opportunity to be still. I wasn’t quite sure what would bubble up to the surface during those quiet times, being so removed from my daily responsibilities which are a pretty effective distraction.

I am happy to say that the water and ocean breezes worked their magic. The heat of the sun on my skin loosened my tightly held muscles that for so long have been bracing against anger and disappointment. The beauty of the ocean with all its sounds and smells and colors never fails to calm me and on that last morning after a quick ocean swim, I sat very still after climbing all the way out to the rocks that lead out into the sea. I let the sun and wind dry the salt water on my skin and the breezes slowly dried my hair in a tangle down my back. I sat and I breathed and listened the roar of the waves and the wind. And I waited, thousands of miles from people who know me, to feel that familiar uneasiness that’s been a fairly constant companion providing excuses to feel lonely or sad. Instead, I felt calm and my hesitant, overworked mind was blessedly open and quiet. Clarity.

I have some fabulous photos so watch for the photo essay soon!

Hola Amigos!

2007-02-24T13:37:00.000-06:00

Guess what? If you open your blogger account in Mexico....all the commands and tabs are in Spanish!!!

Speaking of Mexico....I've spent the last 6 days in paradise. I'm catching a shuttle in a few short minutes...more later but I just wanted to check in!

Adios!!

Senorita E

Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes. -Alfred Lord Tennyson

2007-02-14T10:53:00.000-06:00

I realize I’m probably barking up the wrong tree by saying winter in Missouri sucks but I’m complaining anyway. Particularly this winter. It is frozen solid. What’s next? Plagues? Locusts? And I curse every one of you morons out there today with your BALD tires. Oh, and if you’re going to hit me…don’t just threaten to slide into me….hit me hard enough to total the van please! GAH!

Yes, I realize it’s Valentine’s Day. Don’t even go there.

*Sigh.* I do have some warm fuzzies I want to add to my little diary. So twenty years from now I might remember some of the wonderfulness of my two favorite cupids. Some of my best time with my girls is the quiet time after the homework and piano practice and baths and teeth-brushing and lunch-making and last minute drink-getting, blankie-finding, jumping-on bed chaos that defines our busy evenings. Lately, my chance to share that time with them has been almost cut in half. So even on the days when I just don’t have anything left I make sure I dig deep and find it. And it paid off the other night and I don’t want to forget.

Once the lights are out and the girls are all cozied up in their beds I spend a few minutes with each little one tickling their back or playing with their hair and just giving them a few minutes to tell me what’s on their mind. (And I’m a little embarrassed to say that a lot of the time it’s that I have diet coke breath!) Ever since they were babies I’ve always played music for them at bedtime and naptimes. When they were tiny it was several different genres of lullabies but now that they’re older, believe it or not, it’s Delilah (and her love songs…. “Love someone toniiiiight”) playing in the background. And being a band geek, I try to point out the different instruments I hear within the music when were having a rare quiet moment.

Over the last few weeks they’ve been sharing a room so it’s been more of a group conversation. My oldest is quiet and still once she’s settled and this night I said goodnight to her first as she went through her usual routine of burying herself under the blanket and comforter and covering her head with just her face peeking out.

I assumed she had already fallen asleep.

Kate is the opposite and fidgets and talks to herself and kicks all her covers off before she even goes to sleep. So I was getting her settled and no one had said anything for a few minutes and I was dozing and listening to the music (I wish now I could remember which song was playing) and very quietly I hear Morgan whisper from the darkness,

“Mommy, do you hear the piano?”

That’s my girl.

You can't deny laughter; when it comes, it plops down in your favorite chair and stays as long as it wants. -Stephen King

2007-02-09T13:39:00.000-06:00

Cow Intestine Popsicles = GROSS! Good Lord, all I did while messing with my mP3 player was fall off a treadmill and make a lot of noise!

40 tons of cow intestines closes I-43

A truck driver distracted by a digital music player overturned his semitrailer early this morning on Interstate 43, spilling nearly 40 tons of cow intestines and bones and, according to Sgt. Blaine Spicer of the Sheboygan County Sheriff’s Department.

The driver, Ryan Engle, 25, of Kenosha, was northbound on I-43 about 2:15 a.m. near Orchard Road in the Town of Mosel when the truck veered off the right side of the road as he adjusted an MP3 player, Spicer said. According to the sheriff’s department:Engle entered the shoulder and was unable to regain control as the load shifted and the truck fell onto its right side in the east ditch. About 76,000 pounds of beef byproduct spilled into the ditch and onto the freeway. The right lane of northbound I-43 was closed for two hours as crews cleaned up. Engle, who was cited for inattentive driving, was taken by Orange Cross Ambulance to St. Nicholas Hospital with non-life threatening injuries. Responding to the scene was the sheriff’s department, Wisconsin State Patrol, Howards Grove First Responders and Sheboygan County Highway Department. The semi, which had to be towed from the scene, is owned by Kenosha-based Birchwood Transport. - from HTR without permission. Sue me.

It's Time...

2007-02-06T14:07:00.000-06:00

After grumbling and cussing and shivering and itching my way through the last two weeks of freezing weather cold enough to make me LOSE MY RELIGION I think it's time for a top 10 list...

1. The SFPFH is finally done. (science fair project from hell...otherwise known as a public school's method for reducing the currently overloaded classrooms by resorting to provoking parents into making good on their threats of not allowing their third graders food or water UNTIL THE DAMN THING IS FINISHED knowing full well that 3rd graders are STUBBORN and don't understand the scientific method anyway so they will stage a hunger strike therefore significantly reducing enrollment in said public school.) Don't ask me how I know this.

2. My writing idol Jen has announced a THIRD book is going to be released!!! Look! ----->"BITTER IS THE NEW BLACK and BRIGHT LIGHTS, BIG ASS author Jen Lancaster's third book, PRETTY FAT: One Narcissist's Quest to Discover If Her Life Makes Her Ass Look Big; Or, Why Pie Is Not the Answer, the story of the heretofore-unabashedly-plus-sized Jen's quest to lose fifty pounds in six months by any means possible, to Kara Cesare at NAL, for six figures, by Kate Garrick at DeFiore and Company"... from www.jennsylvania.com

3. CAPITAL LETTERS

4. I haven't fallen off the treadmill yet today. (Yes, I fell off again last night but did not bite it this time...I managed to stay on my feet and landed in the 12 inches between the deck and the wall. Ta-daaa!

5. My new little space heater

6. The fact that I fit (barely) in my summer clothes so I don't have to go shopping for my trip.

7. Funny email that made me laugh out loud this morning (thanks mom)

8. The fantastic, funny, world-traveling author of one of my favorite blogs actually checked out my blog! Check out www.othejoys.blogspot.com OMG! Very cool. But my excitement is tempered with a little sadness because her grandfather just passed away. My lantern is lit.

9. Antibiotics for little people that taste good. (Kate's sick) Paula, can I get an Amen?! ;)

10. Forgiveness

Your turn!!!

Getting down with my bad self...

2007-02-01T13:32:00.000-06:00

Literally.

Last night, while talking to myself about 6 minutes into a 20 minute run at over 6mph on the treadmill, and being very self-congratulatory because this was after I spent 30 minutes spinning on my bike (while watching a fascinating (really!) documentary about the photographer Sally Mann)... I FELL OFF. LOUDLY. Actually, I fell DOWN after catching the non-moving edge of the treadmill which stopped my right foot cold; I continued the stride with my left foot which caused me to do an incredibly rapid and effective faceplant on the belt and be immediately spit out the back of the machine onto the floor on my knees. Graceful I am...and a little sore.

So I’m taking donations for this stuff should I decide to mess with my iPod while on the narrow treadmill again....

Memo: ...it's all about MeMe! No, I'm not sorry.

2007-01-31T10:06:00.001-06:00

Things That Scare Me
1. Public speaking
2. Motorcycles
3. Passing out while giving blood (???)

People That Make Me Laugh
1. Kate
2. Morgan
3. Kathleen Madigan

Things I Love
1. Diet Coke
2. Training
3. Sunshine

Things I Hate
1. Cold
2. Flying bugs
3. Tobacco

Things I Don't Understand
1. Why it’s taking so long to build my house (SERIOUSLY.)
2. Why, despite training more & eating less, my f**king scale will.not.budge.
3. Why it is always freezing in my office

Things on my Desk
1. A phone that never rings
2. A note to call Kevin
3. A thin sheet of ice

Things I'm Doing Right Now
1. Sniffling because my nose is cold
2. Glancing down the hallway
3. Trying to look busy

Three Things I Want To Do Before I Die
1. See my girls have children of their own
2. Write a book.
3. Run a marathon. Travel through the Grand Canyon in a dorie. Karaoke in a
bar full of strangers.

Things I Can Do
1. Change a bike and car tire
2. Clean the hell out of a bathroom
3. Make you smile

Things You Should Listen To
1. The chime reminding you to put on your seatbelt
2. Fire alarms
3. Your heart

Things You Should Never Listen To
1. Your heart
2. Alarm clocks
3. Drunk people

Things I Would Like To Learn
1. How to cook meals my children will eat
2. Patience
3. Patience while attempting to cook

Favorite Foods
1. Breakfast
2. Lunch
3. Dinner

Favorite Beverages
1. Diet Coke
2. Cold skim milk
3. Lemon-lime gatorade

TV Shows I Watched, Books I Read as a Kid
1. Brady Bunch
2. Entire Little House on the Prairie set
3. the Love Boat

People I Would Like To Tag
1. Everyone who comments on my blog
2. Everyone who lurks in my blog (yes, that means YOU)
3. Pewter

Those who live on vanity must, not unreasonably, expect to die of mortification. -Alice Thomas Ellis

2007-01-29T12:23:00.001-06:00

So, considering I’ll be at the beach in less than three weeks and recently being subjected to my disturbingly huge white-assness under department store florescent lighting (=evil) and corresponding fun house mirrors (=more evil) designed to wreak havoc on one’s self-esteem, I reasoned I’d get myself a tan. The "healthy" way. Especially since the only way I’m going to lose those 20 pounds I’ve been bitching about is for someone to cut off my arm...or maybe my head and an ass cheek...Monty Pyton style. ( "Tis merely a flesh wound..." "What are you going to do...bleed on me?")

Here, spray tanning is called a "Mystic Tan". Will turn you a "nice, bronze-brown color" in two sessions according to the prominently displayed poster. And of course since I have "sucker" written on my forehead in ink only visible in the purple glow coming from under the door of the booth in use next to the counter, Shawn (who seemed a little too excited about tanning in general if you ask me) pitched me the special accellerator lotion. Sure, sign me up.

He walks me back and gives me instructions which include only how to open the door to the tanning coffin, how to stand in the booth (face front with arms out in like a robot stance with elbows bent at shoulder level, hand down and palms back) and to listen to the automated instructions. So I get all lotioned up, put the little hair net thingy over my head and stand like an uncomfortable and self-conscious robot in front of three nozzles at hip level. How is that going to get my whole front? But whatever. I go ahead and start it and am sprayed with some sort of misty, foggy, damp wetness that comes from the three nozzles as they flip up and down, spraying the length of me twice in about 15 seconds. Sort of like what I imagine standing in an automatic car wash would feel like. Except I’m afraid to breathe. And my back is still dry. And there’s only nozzels in the front. So, I’m thinking, "When do I turn around? Now?" And I’m vaguely aware of some mumbly sounds coming from above, which I gather was the voice telling me to turn around. So I quickly do that (and for some idiotic reason, open my eyes....ouch) and get blasted again from the back with no time to spare. Feeling a little ridiculous that I’m so clueless and this has all happened so fast, the door finally opens and I jump out trying to grab some air that doesn’t taste like bug repellant spray. Ok, now what? I’m standing nekkid in a cold room, covered in stinky dew, feeling oddly like I need a hug. (Why? I don’t know. Oh, I know...it’s another huge mirror and bad lighting, only now I’m wearing a hair net. (=evilest!!!) So I dab off, (no rubbing!!! says Shawn), dress my smelly self and wait for the tan.

Cut to 6 hours later.... I’m slightly less orange than an oompa loompa. Gah! Second session probably Thursday...

And then the sun came out...

2007-01-28T10:49:00.000-06:00

Stay tuned for Adventures in Spray Tanning!!!

You have to be careful who you let define your good. -Lois McMaster Bujold

2007-01-24T10:47:00.001-06:00

I really want to write. I read other people’s writing and it makes me want to write. I spend lifetimes commuting in my van thinking about what I could say. But for the better part of two weeks, I spend all day in front of a computer and.....nothing. There is chaos in my head and busy-ness all around me and the only thing it makes me feel is empty. And so very tired.

There are reasons. It’s January. I’m stubborn and chose to carry a burden squarely on my broad shoulders. My girls are going through something really hard that they might never fully comprehend and my heart hurts for them. It’s tempting to get stuck here and let life get frayed around the sharp edges of what is meaningful and necessary. But I won’t. I can’t.

Today, as I sat reading about someone’s nearly parallel life I was given a gift. A reminder to "Do The Work". A powerful three words if I’ve ever read them. Sometimes life is easy and effortless. But for now, I will put my head down and do the work.

Stress + PMS = decidedly UN-Buddhist-like behavior

2007-01-12T14:31:00.000-06:00

Since Tuesday night, I've been debating in my head about whether or not it would have been appropriate to return a 9 year old girl (friend/enemy of Morgan in her brownie troop) to her parents by dragging her up to the door by her hair. I'll spare you the details, for now (but they involve kicking the shit out of my seat while I was driving the van while telling Morgan, who is planning on being the next Hillary Duff, that she can't sing), and although I have a long fuse, this would have been completely justified. At least in my current PMS'd state no court of law would have convicted me of any wrongdoing.

In other news...Kate got the dreaded "red note sent home to be signed by parents for evil misdeeds in kindergarten" yesterday. In very large perfect printing on bright red 8x10 paper it said, "Kate was involved in a water fight in art class." Umm, she's in kindergarten!!! This does not bode well for the future, I realize. There was explaining and scolding and grounding and head hanging. She got the message. Do I think she'll do things differently next time? Probably not. It didn't help that after said topic was discussed, there was laughing. By me. Is that wrong? Maybe cuz I can't do anything right now but think of the "big picture" and that so doesn't matter. I did refrain from asking for a copy of the signed red paper to be returned for her scrapbook. Must retain some form of parenting credibility.

Happy Friday!

Edit: Ok, sorry, I was venting a little there. Maybe I should have gone into detail. Those final two things happened after I'd been left in charge of wrangling this crazy child for the previous 2 hours during which she also performed a cartwheel in a ceramics shop.

Whenever evil befalls us, we ought to ask ourselves, after the first suffering, how we can turn it into good.

2007-01-09T10:12:00.001-06:00

Whenever evil befalls us, we ought to ask ourselves, after the first suffering, how we can turn it into good. So shall we take occasion, from one bitter root, to raise perhaps many flowers.
Leigh Hunt

Happy New Year! I hope 2007 brings you closer to your dreams and more happiness than your heart can hold.
I haven’t posted in awhile because it’s an awkward time for me; so foreign in fact, that to indulge my usual banter about parties and training seems flippant and out of context. So instead I’ve been reading other people’s thought-provoking, alternate reality, online diaries and I find myself wondering, “What prompts someone to write down stories of their lives, including some of the most intimate details – fears, anxieties, doubts, blessings, truths and passions? Do they do it for themselves? Indulging the narcissistic tendencies we all have? Or do they do it to share their experiences in the hopes that their words will touch someone, and make someone or themselves less lonely, possibly fostering a connection in a world that finds people increasingly isolated, hidden behind cell phones and computer screens and windshields?”
Made me think about why I have my own public online diary. Why not just find a notebook and scribble furiously as I recall events in my life that affected me on a particular day? First of all, I find it easier to spill my thoughts onto a screen via a keyboard than to take pen to paper. I like the fact that I can compose whole paragraphs without much effort, read them, decide if I conveyed my thoughts correctly and have a nice clean edit option. Second, I think it gives people in my life who have busy, far-away lives of their own, a way to check up on me, without necessarily playing email tag. I’d like to think it allows them to know me better with all my clumsiness and imperfections, celebrating my successes and reminding me that the hard times are temporary. Lastly, and most importantly, I find that the more I talk about how amazing life is, how grateful I am for all of it, because of the good things I see and experience and in spite of the bad, the more amazing and rich and full my life becomes! Which is exactly why I referred to my blog as a gratitude journal. It reminds me that I am accountable for my own happiness and I’ve found that writing allows me to know myself better. It makes me happy to acknowledge my blessings without apologizing for them or comparing them to anyone else. And here’s the secret…consciously appreciating the beauty of life, and how I choose to live it, and my children and my friendships takes ALL the power out of any negativity that threatens to break me. It is not avoiding those challenges; it is carrying on, in spite of negativity, which makes me stronger in the broken places. And there is no amount of therapy that could do that for me.

Couldn't resist....

2006-12-27T11:21:00.000-06:00

I wasn't going to post for a few days because, frankly I have nothing to say...but I came across this today. Looking ahead to next year, any and all are invited to my first (and possibly annual) bad christmas sweater party. Attire? Polyester and applique required.

What is Christmas? It is tenderness for the past, courage for the present, hope for the future.

2006-12-25T23:09:00.000-06:00

What is Christmas? It is tenderness for the past, courage for the present, hope for the future. It is a fervent wish that every cup may overflow with blessings rich and eternal, and that every path may lead to peace. -Agnes M. Pharo

I'm almost late getting to the party but with 50 minutes left in Christmas day a review of my blessings makes me realize that indeed, my cup runneth over. I hope this day of celebration found you enjoying the company of family and friends.

I had to share what prompted this last minute post...my Morgan. She hasn't been front and center often lately and threatens to be overshadowed by her exuberant younger sister on a regular basis. But, Mimi doesn't miss much and expresses herself like her mother...in writing. Her lovely gift to me this year was a book of poems, Haiku and Diamante (yes, I had to look that up too). I wish I had a scanner but here's my favorites...

Chrismas so fun and
jolly. All the lights and fun!
Merry Christmas too.

Santa's red coat, so
cuddly and warm. I wish I
had that coat of his.

Santa,

Santa red

caroling, giving, receiving,

snow melt, candy canes,

eating, stocking, decorating

yummy, good,

Candy

This wouldn't be complete without my favorite Christmas quote: "The best way to spread Christmas cheer is to sing loudly for all to hear." -Buddy the elf

Happy Christmas! I'll probably get my cards out sometime in May.

Rock Star Photos

2006-12-24T15:42:00.000-06:00

Gratuitous photos....life is good when you're a little girl!

Humor is the great thing, the saving thing.

2006-12-20T09:28:00.001-06:00

Humor is the great thing, the saving thing. The minute it crops up, all our irritations and resentments slip away and a sunny spirit takes their place.
Mark Twain

Working hard as usual, I came across the next thing on my "to do" list.

It's my baby's 6th birthday today. My forever early Christmas present. I remember exactly what I was doing on a sunny, freezing cold Saturday afternoon at 4:27pm in 2000. :)

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

2006-12-19T13:43:00.000-06:00

The Good: My cold is just about gone. I ran in my first race since like April (running only) this past weekend and didn't do too badly. Stumpy legs carried me 2 miles in about 17:15. Kate got her ears pierced for her birthday and she looks fabulous. (Pictures eventually). Morgan can play Silent Night on the piano really well!

The Bad: Took the girls to see Santa last night. Very exciting. Santa even had a real beard! HOWEVER, the 2-3 things that Kate has had on her list since like JUNE (that I had to order and was patting myself on the back for getting way back in October) were NOT the things she asked Santa for. GAH! Foiled again. Dammit. I also have to go Christmas Caroling at the nursing home with Kate's Brownie troop tonight.

The Ugly: I. HAVE. TO. GO. CHRISTMAS. CAROLING. TONIGHT.

Edit: Not long after I posted this things started looking up. I got a phone call saying that there's some sort of plague running rampant in the nursing home so we were not able to go. Imagine my disappointment. We will go back for Valentine's Day...and as far as I know there's no Valentine Caroling. Whew!

Delicious ambiguity.

2006-12-12T13:21:00.000-06:00

I always wanted a happy ending... Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity.
Gilda Radner

Story of the Bad Ass Girl and the Flat Tire
by Bad Ass Girl with a 'tude

One sunny day there was a bad ass girl who had crammed too many things into her busy schedule. First she went to work. Then she tried out a new gym and used the treadmill because there was too much damn ice on the ground. 5 mile tempo run in the off-season left her feeling pretty bad-assed but had to watch the clock in order to get to the doctor's appointment she made over 3 months ago. Then she showered and walked out to the bad-ass minivan and is confronted with a flat tire! Gah! Bad-ass girl has a choice; admit defeat and helplessness and go back in the gym and ask the BOYS for help or change the damn tire herself. Guess what she did? Bad-ass girl changed the tire HERSELF. And got slightly LESS dirty than she does changing the tube on her bike tire. Bad-ass girl was only 15 minutes late for her appointment.
The end.

Now this might seem silly to some of you but a few months back I was lamenting about how I couldn't jump start my car, or understand my mortgage and similar grown up stuff. Well, I can now do most of what I need to do with the van(except sell it unfortunately), including refinancing it; and I am in the process of obtaining a new mortgage. That I do understand. Small victories you say? Victories, nonetheless.

Thanks to all who've given me suggestions about some rockin tunes. I am in the process of listening to ALL of them and have found some really good ones. I'll post my new list soon! I only do that stuff at home and lately I'm just wiped out, so it's a little at a time. Keep 'em coming if you think of something else.

I've not been feeling particularly inspired lately. Typical for me this time of year. Sure, the holidays are coming but I've got some challenges this year that have dampened my usual holiday cheer. Temporary. I have too many blessings to wallow for long. So, as is typical of this time of year, I begin to plan for the year ahead. Set some goals and review the direction my life is heading. Is it working for me? Is it compatable with the important people in my life? Have I been able to cross some things off my neverending list? Where did I fall short?

I got thinking about this after reading an article today titled, "This Life Goes to 11" and the five points that can help 2007 be your best year ever. Because "if not now, when?"

1. Get fit, eat right. (Definitely the most challenging for me)
2. Go Already. (I can incorporate some ambitious tri/running goals for this)
3. Simplify. (Purging unnecessary things should allow for more connections with people)
4. Give Back. (This is always on my list, I just haven't found a good way to make a difference. I
need to practice what I preach to my girls, "To those much is given, much is expected".
5. Just Chill. (Cabo, here I come! :) )

What will you do to rate 2007 an 11?!

KONA BABY!

2006-12-09T14:52:00.000-06:00

The tri-geek returns. Obviously.... I'm taping this...

The Ironman World Championship makes its way to television today. NBC will air their 2006 highlight package at 3pm. The 2-hour show is sure to include lots of incredible footage and emotional stories from the sports greatest stage on the Big Island of Hawaii.

Can you smell the banana bread I'm baking?

Trouble is part of your life, and if you don't share it, you don't give the person who loves you a chance to love you enough. - Dinah Shore

2006-12-07T21:23:00.000-06:00

Here's my music list in no particular... only 13 songs. I'm getting ready to sign up for the 1/2 marathon in April and I'm going to need about 2:20min worth of tunes. So, when you come across something you like, ping me!

Do This Anymore -Nickelback
Dream Big -Ryan Shupe & the Rubberband
I’m Alright- JoDee Messina
I Can Only Imagine -Mercy Me
It’s My Life- Bon Jovi
Just Like a Pill -Pink
Let Me Go -Three Doors Down
Perfect Day -Hoku
Remember -Disturbed
Savin Me- Nickeback
Since U Been Gone- Kelly Clarkson
This One’s for the Girls- Martina McBride
Walk Away -Kelly Clarkson

Kelly Clarkson ROCKS (shut up :P)

Stay tuned for a story about a bad ass girl and a flat tire.

My heart, which is so full to overflowing, has often been solaced and refreshed by music when sick and weary. - Martin Luther

2006-11-30T10:38:00.000-06:00

Kate's first words upon looking out the window this morning, "Oh, no it di'int snow!". Silly. In reality, it mostly iced, but the top layer is white so it looks like snow. The hillbillies played out in the freezing rain last night and it's been so long since they've seen snow they didn't know the difference! Ice on the trees is actually very pretty and every once in awhile the sun pokes out and everything glitters. Trying to forget about the fact that I managed to get the mighty minivan stuck in my sitter's neighborhood this morning.

So, music. My trusty mp3 player has gradually been getting less trusty so I traded it in for a no-frills ipod shuffle. Will hold about 250 songs...and I have about 15 right now. Oops I can't access my itunes from here so my list will have to wait. I would really love some suggestions. I tend not to pay attention to the names of songs or the artist (I would so totally fail Greg's class...but I'd get my 10% for attending Greg!) so I can't do any kind of effective search and end up trying to decide if I like a song by listening to a 30 second blurb. When I get my list up y'all (or you's guys for you northerners ;) ) can try and guess what I might like. I'm in a little bit of an angry phase right now so I'm leaning towards a strong beat with alot (a lot) of noise and the occasional m.f. thrown in is probably okay too.

Also on the subject of music...one of my all time favorite musicians, who happens to be a friend, began teaching a college level jazz history class. Something I know nothing about. But I stumbled upon the website he put up for his students and I have to say it looks like his class ROCKS! I imagine teaching can very often be a thankless job but you never know when you might reach a kid and unlock something. My hat goes off to all the teachers who continue to try with the best of intentions. What you do matters and when you feel passionately about something it can be contagious. Keep on keepin' on!

****Excuse me...one of the girls just said lunch was free in the cafeteria. I need to go get a half-order of something warm. ***** (Free cheeseburger?...oh hell yes!)

Anyway, now that my belly's full, I hope everyone has a great weekend!

I think I'd like it here.

Gratitude....

2006-11-21T14:01:00.000-06:00

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow. --Melody Beattie

So true. I'll get to my thanksgiving thoughts in a minute.

I didn't do the the run Saturday morning. Instead, Morgan was with me and she accompanied me on her bike on a quick run Friday night (in her very cute new running tights and my new blinking reflector) and then we went to dinner and stayed up late reading in bed and slept in. Definitely much better than getting up early on a cold, dreary and windy morning. I also reasoned that the $40 I saved can go directly into the High School Musical concert fund that I hear about every 8 seconds. So it appears I can rationalize most anything.

Saturday night the girls' dentist reserved a place called The Magic House here in St. Louis as a patient appreciation night. It's basically a "learning" house where everything is kid oriented and made for exploring. The girls love it...parents tolerate it. One of the few remaining "munchkins" from the original Wizard of Oz movie was there. Mickey Carrell (sp?) ... he was one of the guys who says, "Follow the Yellow Brick Road!" and he still sounds the same! Very interesting...I missed most of what he said but apparently his nieces and nephews are bent on moving him to a nursing home but he's NOT going and he's giving all his money to children's hospital. TMI from the munchkin? Maybe. I also learned that the average child askes 437 questions per day. Kate is such an overacheiver!!!! 6 year-olds ask questions like, "What does oesnmr spell?" And my response the first 200 times is "Those letters don't make a word sweetie, what does dog start with?" At about question number 400 those same letters spell octopus. Trust me.

I also applied for my first passport on Saturday. It costs $97 and a really bad picture to leave the country. I'm headed to Cabo San Lucas Mexico on February 19th. Hoping to pull a Kirstie Alley and show up in a bikini. And I don't have a Jenny Craig endorsement deal to help me.

So Thanksgiving. Time off to give thanks. Celebrated initially as a religious holiday by New England Puritans. Now a largely secular holiday, it's accompanied by the president's proclimation and a parade. And lots and lots of food. The girls and I are headed to WI and I'll be using the 8 hours to contemplate exactly what I am most thankful for. There's alot to keep me busy.

Hug the ones you love and don't forget to say THANKS!