What a Maroon!

On a dinner date with my Mom, Mr. Fixit, and my aunt and uncle last night, my uncle showed me this little gem he pulled off a tape circa 1988.


That's little me with a pretty awesome Animal puppet hamming it up for the entertainment of my elders. Also, I still use "I gotta go to the bathroom" as a way to get out of conversations where I don't know what to say.

Naked Cartwheels

It’s been an incredibly busy couple of weeks. I work to post at least twice a week, sometimes more, and it’s been tough to find the time. I’ve had meetings every day at work, some with a prominent political figure in this city (who may be my representative but for whom I did not cast my vote). This past weekend Dad visited, hockey Monday and Tuesday, Wednesday night My Runner and I and Mom and Mr. Fixit went to a dinner party at Mop and Face’s place.

Tonight my calendar had “6pm, Whipple St.” I was scheduled to look at a half a duplex to rent. It was cute, had a lot of space, a yard, and was in a quiet neighborhood. Best of all it was within my price range. The owners are a friend of a friend, so it came with a recommendation.

I assume you noticed that all the verbs in the last paragraph are in past tense. I got an email from the owner today that he had rented it out last night. I knew I had gotten too excited about this place. I had even described it to someone as “the one; we’re meant for each other.” But it’s been on the market for a while, and the owners were (understandably) looking to rent it out sooner rather than later.

I’m bummed, but working through it. How? With naked cartwheels. Tonight, instead of having an appointment, instead of scheduling anything, instead of having to see another living person, I’m home. All alone. Well, Fred T. Ferret, is here, but no humans. My cousin/roommate is home for spring break, and I’m taking advantage of an empty apartment and a canceled appointment for some MUCH needed *me* time.

Ok, Leeapeea, but naked cartwheels? That was Face’s idea. I’m sure it was one of those offhand things, “Oh, your roommate’s gone? What are you going to do? Naked Cartwheels! Ha!” Except it’s turned into something more than that. Metaphorically, naked cartwheels represents ultimate freedom and joy. Not only do you have the space to perform a free-wheeling acrobatic attempt, but you also have the privacy to do it disrobed. THAT’S freedom, my friends.

A good life is a life of balance. I love my friends, my family, My Runner, but I also love me. I have to balance my time with everyone else with some me time. Tonight brought the scales back to true. If you’ve been feeling overstressed, overwhelmed, overtaxed, over burdened, take my advice: naked cartwheels.

Bits and Pieces

Lots of thoughts swirling around lately, and mostly unorganized.  A sampling of the bits and pieces grabbed from the tornado of my brain:

Dad's coming up this weekend.  We're meeting at a race on Sunday morning, then he's staying until Tuesday.  This'll be the first time I run with him, ever.  I'm really worried about being slow.  I know it's stupid  - he won't care, we're here to run it together, but still.  My Runner might be joining us.  I'm glad My Runner and Dad will get a chance to meet. They're very similar, which totally makes me a cliché, but what can ya do.  I love running with My Runner, and I know it will make me worry less about being slow, but there's a small part of me that wants to run just me and my dad.  I think that part's smaller than the part that wants both of them there.

I drove around ManchVegas for an hour on Wednesday checking out neighborhoods of apartments listed on craigslist.  It was ridiculously depressing how much some places were misrepresented.  Of course I only viewed the outside on these, but since I'm looking for a new neighborhood I thought that would be a good place to start.  As much as I want a place that's unique, part of a house, a few neighbors, a nice landlord, I think ultimately I won't be able to find a nice place in a nice neighborhood in my price range unless I go for apartment complex living.  Not really my first choice, but it's got the essentials that I'm looking for, and there are always openings.  The other drawback is that my current rental company operates at least half of the apartment complexes in MancheVegas.  They're probably not better or worse than other rental companies, but their tenant screening process leaves something to be desired.

Last weekend I ran the farthest I have yet - 6 miles.  I felt great, and ran an average 9:20min. mile in the Frozen Shamrock 3 mile race the next day.  This week I feel like crap.  My hip's been bothering me, my calves are cramping, and I've been having some, ah... lady issues.  I've taken some time off to rest, maybe too much time.  I've got a 4.6mi run planned with Pocket when she comes to visit on Saturday, then the race on Sun is 4 miles.  I'm still not feeling great, but it's time to get back in the saddle.  I've totally neglected my PT the last two weeks (slaps hand) and I know that's why my hip is bothering me.  The half-marathon is in 16 days; no time to rest on my weary laurels.

Speaking of the ShamRock (half)Marathon, this was today's facebook post:
Coach Jerry Frostick's tip of the week: Less is best, don't try and make up for missed mileage. Everyone has battled the worstwinter that I remember. That same determination will get you to the finish line. Feel proud of what you've done.Usethese last two weeks to heal aches and pains and visualize great things for... your big day!You all will Sham ROCK.
It's like Coach Jerry is reading my mind.  I'm not going to go crazy with miles, but I am working to get my drive, determination, and "sticktoitiveness" back on line.  (When did "sticktoitiveness" become an ok word to use?)


Pocket and I will be heading to my Alma Mater after our run on Saturday to see a show produced by the theatre department from which I graduated.  It hasn't been terribly long since I attended, and most of my profs are still working there.  I've always been proud of my education.  While the name and the department doesn't necessarily have a huge reputation, I felt the professors and program were all well-rounded and encouraged exploration of talents and strengths.  I really hope it's a good show.


Mom recently "guilted" me that I've been dating My Runner for over six months now and she barely knows him.  She's right, it's weird.  I have a very close relationship with my family, so the fact that I'm so happy and they don't know him IS totally strange.  So we're having dinner on Wednesday, hosted by Face and Mop.  I'm super psyched.  Getting the chance to meet some of his family over Easter.  Excited, but oddly not really nervous.  I mean, I hope they like me, and there is a certain amount of strain making small talk with a room full of strangers, but I'm just happy to get to see a little more of where My Runner comes from.


I know I'm "of that age," but EVERYONE is getting married this year.  Three friends, two family members.  Five weddings.  Don't get me wrong, I actually really like weddings.  Celebrating love, eating, dancing, drinking, wearing pretty clothes, all things I truly enjoy.  And, luckily, there's not a single union that I'm in any way opposed to.  The only down side is that my schedule for the spring/summer/fall is now pretty full, and already there are conflicts with weddings and planned trips.  Normally I'm a "first come first serve" kind of gal when it comes to plans, but people tend to only get married once (at least, to each other), and friends and family are sort of expected to prioritize a wedding over, say, a backpacking trip.  Knowing I will have equal but different fun at either event is not helping me make a decision.

A Humane Society

The other morning I was walking down the block to my car and I hear yelling. Scolding, really.  Who's yelling at 7:20 in the morning?  And at whom?  Glancing up the block I see a woman walking an unleashed dog.  I hear her telling the pup he's a "bad dog" and "nasty."  Two thoughts cross my mind: 1. the dog is behaving perfectly fine, even when not on a leash, and 2. what crawled up this woman's ass?

Her behavior really bothered me.  Seeing anyone abusing their power over another (person, child, animal, what-have-you) really gets to me.  Knowing that a pet only behaves as good as it's owner expects it to, if this dog is really "nasty" and "bad," it's most likely the woman's fault.  The dog certainly didn't seem psychopathic as it plodded along in front of her down the street, sniffing at the fast-food wrappers and other dog shit that litters the sidewalks.  Her crap attitude made me wonder how she treats her children?  Going a step further, what the hell happened to her that makes her feel so powerless she has to take it out on a dog?

I have faith in the goodness of people.  Sometimes it's a difficult, nigh impossible faith to maintain.  I don't like to see the underbelly of human nature, though I know full well it exists.  The only way I feel I can combat it is to believe and expect others to act in a humane manner.  I expect this of myself and expect the same from others.  Not always to act "good" or "appropriately," but to deny evil, hatred, greed, selfishness, the desire to inflict pain on others.  Ok, I still have some issues with selfishness and greed, (there are SO MANY pretty shoes and I want them all to be mine!), but I acknowledge that and work on it every day.

"Goodness," for lack of a better term, needs to be nurtured from without as well as within.  I can see how it would be hard to maintain my, what some would call naive faith in human kind if I surrounded myself with abusers, emotional manipulators, and haters.  I don't.  I feed my soul with the love and care of others who feel similarly to me, who hold themselves and others to higher standards of humanity.

I've stopped reading/watching/listening to the news.  I wish I didn't have to, but the constant reminder that people are out there who don't give a damn about anyone but themselves was leaving me with holes in my heart.  The "feel good" stories weren't counter-acting the crap anymore.  I felt like I was fighting to breath under a tidal wave- why did no one else in the world care?  Why do the people in power not do anything to help?

This woman, so unhappy with herself, surrounded most likely by other people unhappy with themselves and their lots in life, brought my naivite about human goodness into sharp focus.  It also reminded me of why I strive for empathy for those around me.  This woman is either a psychopath or has been so beaten down by her lot in life that she no longer cares for anything but herself.  If I fight for empathy, I know it's possible for anyone to do the same.  I feel bad for the woman, worse for the dog, and proud  that I've fought against the negative forces in my life that I could have so easily given in to.  I drove to work silently thankful for my loving friends and family who help me see the positive (and funny, and unique, and ironic) in every day.

Whoops! Uh.... Hi!

You ever get that call? It goes something like this:

You: Hello?

Them: Oh! ... um.... HI! Hey!!!! How are ya???

You: Good! Great to hear from you, it's been a while!

Them: Yeah, heh... actually I called you by accident... I meant to call You Smith... hah... weird how you have the same first name...

You: oh... ha... right. Well, catch you later.

I've been on both ends of this REALLY awkward situation. This morning my phone rang at 8:30am. Since I was at work (and actually doing work - yes, it does happen), I silenced my phone and let it go to voicemail. It was my Dad; weird for him to call since we had just talked on Sunday, but we had been in the process of making plans for a visit. Listening to my voicemail my dad starts out laughing, "Oh, good morning my Favorite Daughter (he likes to call me this since I'm his only daughter. That we know of.) I didn't really mean to call you, but... uh...Hope your day is going great!! Uh..... Bye!"

A one-sided awkward conversation. Who knew?

On the flip side, I used to do this to Seacoast ALL the time. Seacoast and Golden Girl share the same first name, hair color, and (un)lucky fate in having been my roommate at one time or another. I would make a call to (I thought) Golden Girl:

Me: Hey, can you pick up some milk on your way home?

Seacost: Uhh.... sure... not sure how I'm gonna get it from Portsmouth to Brooklyn, though.

Me: OH! Heyy...... uh, how ya doin? (etc.)

Luckily Seacoast had a great sense of humor about it (or she was really, REALLY kind). It was always nice to catch up with her, of course. It was kind of like both of us were getting that unexpected phone call from a distant friend. I always felt kinda guilty afterwards, though.

But Seacoast is a long time friend. What about when you make a call to someone you don't want to talk to? You know, those folks you keep in your phone so you know to ignore the call (not any of you, of course... all those other crazy bums). Like, you mean to call your Dentist, but you end up calling Dennis, the wicked annoying guy from your previous job who wouldn't stop hitting on you even though you were VERY clear that NOTHING would EVER happen. EVER. How does one handle that?

How would you handle that?