tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-105274842024-03-07T23:05:24.949-05:00my mood swingsmoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.comBlogger365125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-40107570787252733782014-03-20T16:32:00.002-04:002014-04-18T13:05:52.471-04:00The Luck of the Ersatz Irish<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
Or, Beer and Roaming in Knoxvegas. Apologies to Hunter S. Thompson.<br />
<br />
<br />
I can do anything for 30 minutes or so, right?<br />
<br />
Right?????<br />
<br />
Well, probably not *anything*. I can't imagine washing my hair for 30 minutes. Or watching<a href="http://www.travelchannel.com/tv-shows/ghost-adventures"> Ghost Adventures.</a> But I can run really slowly for 30 minutes. I know I can.<br />
<br />
Just NOT in. the. <em>rain</em>. <br />
<br />
(which reminds me of a favorite joke, as answered by Ernest Hemingway: Why did the chicken cross the road? To die. <br />
<br />
Alone.<br />
<br />
In the rain.)<br />
<br />
The occasion was the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/stpatty5k">Barley's St. Patrick's 5k</a>. Josie and I did it last year and nearly died. SRSLY. The first HOT day of the year after a very chilly winter - color me not acclimated. And it was a huge disappointment to me because it was my 4th or 5th race and I'd been improving in microbursts and felt really<span style="color: #38761d;"> <em>lucky</em></span> going in to it. Let's just say, I don't handle heat well in the best of times and I was crushed, like run-over-by-a-truck crushed (figuratively speaking) by my terrible 31:23 finish.<br />
<br />
So this year's race was all about redemption. <br />
<br />
(And pizza. Because there was FREE pizza at the end! Also, 2 free beers as well, so thank you Barley's!)<br />
<br />
I woke up to the sound of rain. I have my heat pump's circulating fan running constantly, so this was not a gentle sprinkle, but a Noah's Ark kind of deluge for me to hear it from the snuggly confines of my boudoir. A feeling of dread came over me, a veritable cloud (do you like where my metaphor is trying to go?) of 'OMG nooooooooo.' I despise running in the rain. Now I had the next 5 or so hours to let that dread fester, and obsess over Doppler radar. And plan my running outfit over and over and over and over and - well, you get my drift. I ate a huge breakfast and watched the skies. I walked the dog and was sprinkled lightly upon. I got in the van with Josie and hit the road to threatening skies but no measurable precipitation. A couple of traffic snafus and an hour later, we hit Knoxville. Still no rain to speak of, but coolish. And a bit of March-y wind. I got my race packet and began a rather ridiculous debate with myself and Josie over where I would put my race bib. On the outer layer? Or should I be brave and pull off the pullover and go sleeveless in the city? <br />
<br />
I felt another gust of March and decided to keep the pullover.<br />
<br />
Mistake. We started and I was warm by the top of the first hill. First two things to get over: the hill and the warmth. Me 1, mental barriers 0.<br />
<br />
And those were the first of many mental barriers I had to get through. That's been my Achilles heel lately - just thinking 'I can't.' I had two goals for this race. The big one was to run the entire thing (and when I say run, it's a run to me but to others it might appear to be more of a jog - whatevs. We can't all be Speedy Gonzalez). And the second goal - and the one that really seemed like a pipe dream, a will o' the wisp if you will, was to beat my last year's time. That sorry 31:23.<br />
<br />
I'll spare you the boring details. Every time I was brave enough to look at my Garmin, my pace seemed good. It was a very up and down course and I tried to take full advantage of every down and just keep breathing on every up. I had my tunes, and they were a great distraction. (Pre-race, I was listening to something really loud and obnoxious and imagining I was in a music video and all my fellow participants were singing lines - this is hi<em>-larious</em>. Try it some time.)<br />
<br />
At the finish line, I came *this* close to being taken out by a small black automobile, to which I very dramatically lifted my hands and mimed W.T.F?!?! No one noticed, but I felt better.<br />
<br />
Because I was at the finish. And I had run the whole way. And while I actually forgot to stop my Garmin, I later found out my time was an incredible 29:14.<br />
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Thank you again, Barley's. It was da bomb.<br />
<br />
</div>
moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-23898726350485720032013-08-04T19:53:00.000-04:002013-08-04T19:53:39.206-04:00After Midnight...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Did that Pigeon Forge Midnight 8K thing last night. With 3 or 4 hundred of my closest friends. Or maybe not that many - not as many as I expected anyway.<br />
<br />
I finished. In under an hour. And that was my goal. So, well done me! It could have gone better, but I got through and now, if I live, I'll focus on the next race - my anniversary run, so to speak - the Alzheimer's Race to Remember that was my First Ever Goal Race way back in 2012. Time flies.<br />
<br />
I've been having some problems with my hip and did not run at all the week before this race trying to calm it down. I suspect bursitis, but have decided to get a doctor's opinion this week, providing I can limp in. <br />
<br />
Getting old is not for the faint of heart.</div>
moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-29675813941458768042012-12-24T14:28:00.001-05:002012-12-24T14:28:31.227-05:00The Big Adventure<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://fitnessandfrozengrapes.files.wordpress.com/2012/11/buddy-the-elf-santa.jpg?w=250" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://fitnessandfrozengrapes.files.wordpress.com/2012/11/buddy-the-elf-santa.jpg?w=250" /></a></div>
So, Adventure Lady has been on one BIG adventure since last report.<br />
<br />
Specifically, she has (borrowing from <span id="goog_532715154"></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2_S8lHtU83A">Elf<span id="goog_532715155"></span>),</a> passed through the seven levels of unemployment, sailed across the sea of Job Searches and finally walked through the Lincoln Tunnel, I mean the interview. <br />
<br />
Yes, boys and girls, I lost my job. Strange as it may seem, this is good news, because NOW I have a new job with structure and flow and a chain of command! Working for nice people! With real office supplies! I no longer have to beg pens from banks. Color me ecstatic. Color me thankful. Color me relieved and incredulous and all sorts of happy, happy, happy. <br />
<br />
Merry Christmas, peeps.</div>
moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-44096885410362950332012-11-08T14:26:00.003-05:002012-11-08T14:27:10.123-05:00Adventures at the Ballot Box!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4cckIjiJARSRIkJgX7D95sBf2G0MQfLFWMX4t-ekljvWAt90dGmTasIXxjiwDzITXfAfhsuFxub5bbqOL4akJD0R73nB9dAWwkFDTjENx9_6lI5uF3YHLoNiwLMFArzqewr_qjw/s1600/American_Flag_Waving_-_Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4cckIjiJARSRIkJgX7D95sBf2G0MQfLFWMX4t-ekljvWAt90dGmTasIXxjiwDzITXfAfhsuFxub5bbqOL4akJD0R73nB9dAWwkFDTjENx9_6lI5uF3YHLoNiwLMFArzqewr_qjw/s320/American_Flag_Waving_-_Copy.jpg" width="320" /></a>So, there was some <a href="http://www.cnn.com/election/2012/results/race/president?hpt=elec_racenav">voting</a> going on Tuesday. And, good American that I am, I wanted to participate. But, because I can do really really stupid things, my photo id went to Knoxville while I stayed home.<br />
<br />
>.<<br />
<br />
(still my favorite emoticon)<br />
<br />
A quick Google revealed that I was entitled to vote provisionally and I could bring my id in to the election commission within 2 days to be COUNTED, so off I went to the polling place. The man behind the table asked me for id and I said I did not have it, but understood I could vote provisionally. He gave me a look and away he went. He returned with a file of instructions. I was diverted to a table on the other side of the gym and we endeavored to figure out how to accomplish a provisional vote. I was, at 6 PM, the First*.<br />
So, I did my little paper ballot and folded it up middle-school style to fit in the too-tiny envelope. I was told I was eligible to vote in a certain state race, but was unable to because it was not on my pre-printed paper ballot. No one seemed too concerned about that, and I didn't press the issue because I knew that election was already won. But their unconcern did concern me.<br />
<br />
And finally, I prepare to cast my vote. To place it in that most sacred of American institutions, the ballot box.<br />
<br />
And I can't. My election helper held the box up. He turned it over several times. He caressed every corner of it and so did I. Every orifice on that sucker was locked up, nay <i>sealed up</i> with all kinds of official looking wires and tags and actual locks. He took my envelope and shoved it into a crack where the lid and the body meet and that was that.<br />
<br />
Now, sure, that was a little bizarre. Well, hell, actually, that was a LOT bizarre. No way to put the vote in except in a manner that would probably (in Florida) cause the ballot to be declared invalid. But I'm a trusting person and I was 99.9% sure this election wasn't going to hinge on my vote. But I like to participate.<br />
<br />
Today I went and presented id and again flustered the election commission to pieces. This whole provisional thing was new for me as well. But since this was the first, or possibly the second election requiring photo id, I would have thought they might have made some, ahem, <i>provisions</i> for these kind of situations.<br />
<br />
So that was my 2012 Electoral Experience. Ballot obstruction and poll workers more at sea than the borough of Manhattan.<br />
<br />
But my American dream came true. Again. In spite of everything.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
*seriously? at 6 PM? I'm wondering how many people did not have id and did not press the issue.</div>
moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-31412246346674537172012-10-30T15:28:00.000-04:002012-11-08T14:40:15.613-05:00My 2nd 5K<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I finished it!<br />
<br />
The <a href="http://newportplaintalk.com/story/38810">On Cosby Moonshine Run</a>, 2012. And I finished 38th out of 88, I believe. I read the results whilst near-frozen, so I could be wrong by a little, but not a lot. I did not, however, meet my <a href="http://allbsmymoodswings.blogspot.com/2012/08/gotta-getta-blog-post.html">goal</a>, which was to finish 2 minutes better than my first one. So, maybe that was a bit ambitious. My official finish time was 31:11. It must be noted that this race was actually .26 mile longer as recorded by my Garmin, so the fact that I finished 25 seconds slower but went further is, like, wow!<br />
<br />
First in my age group as well. <br />
<br />
Pictures to follow as soon as my cheerleaders (I had 3!!!) send them to me.<br />
<br />
The weather was warm enough that I went shorts, long sleeve T and light jacket to start. The jacket was removed in the first half mile and was secured around my waist for the duration. Which was a good thing. I didn't know any other runners or walkers, but they appeared to be a fun bunch. Truly, I was scoping out the competition, because that pernicious competitive spirit was upon me. I don't think I'd gone quite one mile before the overall winners passed me on their way back. Several (better) people in front of me cheered them, but I thought 'oh HELL no. too soon!' but I did smile at the second place guy because he was polite and friendly during my warmup. The course was a gradual rise up Highway 32 towards the Cosby Campground but turning left onto Liberty Road after about a half mile. Then it was a nice downhill along a creek and through some lovely homes (but I really wasn't looking at them!). The long slog back up was not pretty, and I had to break down and walk twice. >.< My favorite face again. That was another goal I didn't quite meet.<br />
<br />
But I finished and I felt good. I have trouble comprehending how far out of shape I was and how long (at my AGE) it takes to get back in. Shape, I mean.<br />
<br />
Goals!<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-2486457515475420752012-10-22T14:41:00.000-04:002012-11-08T14:40:28.831-05:00Oppan Gangnam Style<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
and no, I'm not going all <a href="http://youtu.be/9bZkp7q19f0">Psy</a> on you.<br />
<br />
I was reminiscing about my misspent youth and how I wanted to be in a gang. <br />
<br />
Now, there aren't any gangs for suburban white girls (with the possible exception of sororities), so I had to invent one. <br />
<br />
I christened it Vigilante Force and my idea of it was equal parts <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Merry_Pranksters">Merry Pranksters</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wild_Wild_West">Wild Wild West</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Avengers_%28TV_series%29">The Avengers</a>. I forced my friends to join and we used to terrorize the seasonal personnel who lived in our neighborhood. With endless games of Kick the Can and catchy catchphrases like 'be a lert! the world needs more lerts!' Oh, it was a simple time. Anyway, here's a good song about gangs and growing up. Not that I'm in any way, shape or form condoning violence. Unless it's in a moderated forum/presidential debate.<br />
<br />
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moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-35603661082626277662012-10-04T14:32:00.000-04:002012-10-22T14:47:19.698-04:00Attack of the Ginormous Insects!!!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU2yZN9VD5UZACGoZYkxP7xEEmNGi3USjrRGRjSKkRshHtqBC_RvU6lc5h3_d3WBQap_jyJJa6Z4DphuUI3lNok0Gli1KSE34w0aksczvYXydWg8UYc9kPO8WMXYJu_gPASi_nMw/s1600/photo014(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU2yZN9VD5UZACGoZYkxP7xEEmNGi3USjrRGRjSKkRshHtqBC_RvU6lc5h3_d3WBQap_jyJJa6Z4DphuUI3lNok0Gli1KSE34w0aksczvYXydWg8UYc9kPO8WMXYJu_gPASi_nMw/s1600/photo014(1).jpg" /></a></div>
(cue spooky music)<br />
<br />
<b><i>THEY CAME FROM ABOOOOOOOOOOOOOVVVVVVVVVEEEE.....</i></b><br />
<br />
Well, actually they - and by this I mean it - came from the parking lot of Kroger's the other day. It flew at me, not quite bee-like in its determination but speedy for its size, and I brushed it away.<br />
<br />
Or rather, I THOUGHT I brushed it away. When I felt evil little footsteps on my throat, I realized different and did the GetItOff!GETITOFF!<b>GETITOFF!!!!</b> Dance.<br />
<br />
Point, me.<br />
<br />
It relocated to my windshield and continued to terrorize me while I drove.<br />
<br />
Point, bug.<br />
<br />
I did stop panicking long enough to snap a quick phone photo and if you are observant, you will notice the antenna of his alien overlord master in the corner of the photo. Holy Orson Welles, Batman!<br />
<br />
Anyhoo, this is a stink bug, a Brown Marmorated Stink Bug to be precise, and we are having a bumper crop of them this fall. Trust <a href="http://www.wbir.com/news/article/186845/2/Stink-Bugs-spread-and-invade-East-TN-homes">local tv</a> to inform and forewarn on what must've been the slowest news day ever.<br />
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moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-26318944405042511822012-09-27T16:52:00.001-04:002012-10-22T14:47:03.317-04:00Co-op Adventures<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Soccer took me to Knoxville this past Saturday, so an adventure was planned.<br />
<br />
Been wanting to check out the <a href="http://www.threeriversmarket.coop/">Three Rivers Market</a> on North Central Street, but had qualms about taking my Soccer Mom self into such a den of hippie freakiness. <br />
<br />
Or at least, that's how I pictured it. Creaky wooden floors, dust motes riding the sunbeams down from the transom windows. Flower children smoking clove cigarettes in the parking lot. Everything smelling of patchouli.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZqzCTVQ1ZcZ6X7Sd-uXyLAVQ9RooSqozzvjvFiU9aXK8tSmOqNDmJ3DrEnaDmcLeeZwgicPhuyOtLS3NcBgXP7v3nhPKVDwOX-SOYWBOPyR0JjZc9NhjGeDN2kRo1tdf-8w8-rw/s1600/coop+overview.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZqzCTVQ1ZcZ6X7Sd-uXyLAVQ9RooSqozzvjvFiU9aXK8tSmOqNDmJ3DrEnaDmcLeeZwgicPhuyOtLS3NcBgXP7v3nhPKVDwOX-SOYWBOPyR0JjZc9NhjGeDN2kRo1tdf-8w8-rw/s320/coop+overview.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Well, no. Perhaps the windows are a bit transom-esque, but all in all in no way resembling my mental picture of a health food co-op. It was bright and new and the very epitome of the 21st century modern market place. And they have EVERYTHING, and a lot of it is organic. I loved the bins - oat flour, flax seed, spices, etc. THIS is where I'll be buying that sort of thing when I'm in town. I just did a walk thru and picked up a couple of things (chronically short of cash, I am). Organic avocados at $1.29 each were my bargain-of-the-trip and Josie bought some kind of protein bar that she said was really good. I think it was a PowerBar. Do not quote me. Three Rivers had all kinds of beers, a hot food bar, local meats and cheeses, and an unbelievable assortment of foods that go under the heading "whole grains." </div>
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Then I went downtown and littered. And I had the children help. Technically, we recycled, but since we're not Knoxvillians, I'm pretty sure the Recycling Authorities would consider this a crime. My bad.</div>
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So, out gallivanting in parts unknown and committing crime. Adventure Level 7!</div>
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p.s. I also stole the photo from Three Rivers, so consider that crediting the source. :)</div>
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moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-26274700570442573702012-09-21T13:45:00.000-04:002012-10-22T14:46:48.091-04:00F is for Friday, F is for Fun!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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So, here's a picture of my dog, Luci, giving all her attention to the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sevier-County-High-School-Soccer/109259635766843?ref=hl">SCHS girls soccer</a> game versus Cocke County High yesterday evening. (We won! Yay!)<br />
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Other fun things I can't wait for:<br />
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<a href="http://mountainvalleywinery.com/images/2012stompout.pdf">Stomp Out Breast Cancer</a>, coming October 6th here in beautiful <strike>downtown</strike> Sevierville. A Wine Walk (starting at 9:00 AM!) to benefit breast cancer research. All over the Parkway! What about this doesn't say fun????!!! I'm bringing a<strike> friend</strike> sister. Why don't you?<br />
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The <a href="http://santahustle.com/smokies/">Santa Hustle Smokies</a> 5K/Half Marathon run. Please, God, no snow. But, heck yes to Santa beards and attire! Must start planning costume now. Who's with me?<br />
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moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-18936621255185155372012-09-19T13:54:00.000-04:002012-09-27T10:55:56.273-04:00To Kindle or Not to Kindle?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
How to spend that birthday money? That is the question.<br />
<br />
Been thinking about a Kindle. Everybody I know that has one, loves it. I'm wicked tempted, but I have approximately 10 thousand paperbacks to be read at my house. I love the feel of a book in my hands, cracking the spine, turning the pages. I also love cool toys. And I realize this is not and either/or situation.<br />
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What say you, dear reader? Do you embrace technology or get all Luddite and threatened?<br />
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EDIT: I went for it, dear readers. A basic Kindle is en route to me now.<br />
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moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-9540581260158862992012-09-12T14:57:00.001-04:002012-10-30T15:01:23.058-04:00How I Spent My Birthday Weekend<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
hiking. Once in the rain and once in the cool fall sun.<br />
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Saturday we did the <a href="http://greenevillehikingclub.com/files/petesbranchfalls.pdf">Pete's Branch Falls</a> hike in the Horse Creek area of Cherokee National Forest. The weather has been hot and dry and Pete's Branch was largely gone and the falls were nonexistent. However, it began to rain a bit as we approached and sought cover under the bluff. Enough rain fell for a trickle to begin where I imagine a beautiful falls normally flows. Nice easy hiking, and no one else on the trail. While we got a little wet, overall it was a good hike. The dogs got to run and the people had fun.<br />
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<a href="http://greenevillehikingclub.com/files/margarettefalls.pdf">Margarette Falls</a> was tackled on Sunday afternoon, under those intensely blue skies September sometimes gifts us with. Odd to remember my 13th birthday was spent similarly - my first Sunday in Tennessee. Lots of people out hiking this trail, some with dogs, some in (high-heeled) clogs. This is a Turtlehead (? - not quite sure about spelling) and it is a member of the orchid family according to a learned hiker we met who lost his KFC to a lost dog he tried to help.<br />
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My little black dog enjoyed the walk.<br />
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400th post!<br />
<br />
And people said it couldn't be done.<br />
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moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-4464417930032261772012-09-10T16:01:00.000-04:002012-10-30T15:00:51.361-04:00The Golden Year Begins<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Yes, I am officially a year older. No, I am not 49 and holding.<br />
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I am 49 and <span style="color: #f1c232;">Golden</span>.<br />
<br />
Me and David Bowie. <br />
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Take THAT, haters.</div>
moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-35170933734380180322012-08-30T15:28:00.000-04:002012-08-30T15:28:00.142-04:00To Feed the Ravenous Horde<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
who read my blog. All <strike>three</strike> four of you!<br />
<br />
I was thinking about writing about running. Again.<br />
<br />
>.< (this is my new favorite emoticon, btw)<br />
<br />
and I realized just how deeply I obsess over new things. There was <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1XYFJUP84lE">Elvis</a>. Then <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0zmIR1aAGYE">Tim Armstrong</a>. And <a href="http://allbsmymoodswings.blogspot.com/2011/06/feeling-special.html">drawing</a>. <br />
<br />
So, NOT about running. Or sweating. Not one word about sports bras. Ix-nay on the cute running shoes, slinky running socks, jazzy running shorts. Not one syllable, except to say that I forgot how quickly the gentle drops of boring begin to fall when people talk about running. My bad.<br />
<br />
Ahem.<br />
<br />
So, about these adventures I'm supposed to be undertaking. What's up next? Ziplining is what I want to do for my birthday, but I might be On Cosby then, as in out at the cabin. With family. And I can't afford to take them all! <br />
<br />
Suggestions? What are all the other baby boomers doing for their 50ths? What's hip and happening - other than my language?<br />
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moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-88429987950794053692012-08-17T16:55:00.001-04:002012-10-30T15:02:07.516-04:00Gotta Getta Blog Post<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Today.<br />
<br />
Goals.<br />
<br />
I need 'em.<br />
<br />
I completed my first ever sporting competition, that <a href="http://beta.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=10527484#editor/target=post;postID=2707779018474687534">5k</a>. Been walking a lot, and running some, and I think I'm precariously near the addiction point, but still waffling on the whole getting-out-of-bed thing. It's hard when you're not sleeping well. I like the <i>idea </i>of being a runner, the actual running not so much. It takes me at least a mile to feel like being out there walking or running anyway. I used to be a trail runner, back in my early high school career, before the cigarettes and when I was still thought of myself as a kid, not a neurotic teen. (n.b. in my heart of hearts, I *still* feel like a kid - particularly when my boss is yelling). A bit directionless now, adrift in the afterglow of my medal-winning run. So, I'm going to nail myself down some goals for the next few months.<br />
<br />
ahem.<br />
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1. Next 5k in October - the <a href="http://www.ktc.org/Applications2012/Cosby12.pdf">On Cosby Moonshine Run</a>. I will take 2 minutes off my last time, which I <a href="http://endurancesportsmanagement.com/uploads/Racing_to_Remember_Results_081112.pdf">officially record</a> as 30:44. Eep, that sounds ambitious! Eep, I'm all linky-linky today. I will incorporate this into a mini-vacation at the cabin. Hot tub! Steaks! Wine! Yaaaaaaaaaaahoooooooooooooooo!<br />
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2. In that active vein, I want to do the <a href="http://www.santahustlesmokies.com/">Santa Hustle</a> as well. My goal here? To have a great time. I'm hoping for eggnog instead of water. I'd bet it'd be easier to drink. I'd like my time to be at least in between the previous two; that is, better than the first (to show improved fitness) but slower than the second (so I can enjoy the run).<br />
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3. To get back in the <a href="http://juliacameronlive.com/basic-tools/morning-pages/">morning pages </a>habit. I bought a bunch of comp books at Staples for 10 cents a piece - now I just need to start writing in them. Hard to figure out WHEN to do them. I like to get my exercise over with first, and then it's morning chaos as we get ready for work and school.<br />
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Goals.<br />
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I got 'em.<br />
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moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-27077790184746875342012-08-13T15:54:00.000-04:002012-10-30T15:00:11.744-04:00My First Ever<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6EDlO3QY554Xc0HW40MKg2cjkSYrj0-6fz9xrPhVp9KV_q-1ei74788QaW6Rb92eOsijQVxGw68fiz4M7fjCH_F8fudc7G2euza6ObzogtYN_L0dnmypflyZdVAoyqVAmlxGFHw/s1600/my+first+race.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6EDlO3QY554Xc0HW40MKg2cjkSYrj0-6fz9xrPhVp9KV_q-1ei74788QaW6Rb92eOsijQVxGw68fiz4M7fjCH_F8fudc7G2euza6ObzogtYN_L0dnmypflyZdVAoyqVAmlxGFHw/s320/my+first+race.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Competitive sporting event. <br />
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S R S L Y.<br />
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I do not remember ever competing on a team or as an individual in any kind of "official" competition. I almost made the volleyball team in 8th grade (but I had to relocate), and I did do some running for exercise in high school (until I went to France and got out of the habit in 7 quick days).<br />
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So, here I am at the beginning of the first annual <a href="http://racingtoremember5k.com/">Racing to Remember 5k</a> to benefit Alzheimer's Tennessee. Did not even know I was being photographed. Don't I look Serious?<br />
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I was a bit nervous. There were, while not actual <i>hills</i> per se,<i> </i>some <i>rises</i>. and I've been running the flattest flat that ever was. I was advised to start slow and I did. I chose a person to follow and follow her I did until she started walking. Then I found another person to follow, and on and on. I had two gentlemen, one slightly ahead of me and the other slightly behind me, who were determined not to be beaten by a girl, and that was all kinds of annoying. I was just trying to finish.<br />
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And finish I did. I only walked twice. Once, when I attempted to drink water <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pl4plPGRG8o">(bad idea)</a> and again towards the end near the top of one of the blasted rises. My goal was to run the whole thing, and while I didn't, I'm hella proud that I completed it. All by myself.<br />
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At the end, everyone sort of gathered about, drinking water and visiting, and I ran in to my yoga friend who BUSTED it with some ungodly 27 minute time and a whole bunch of other people I knew from high school and through my kids. I would have left, but the road out was blocked with sweaty bodies. So, I hung out, chatted and won a door prize! Then, to top it off, I won medal. 2nd place in my age group.<br />
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moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-86764049341007709102012-08-10T15:19:00.001-04:002012-10-22T14:45:58.264-04:00The Day Before...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
(cue thought-provoking<i> serious</i> music)<br />
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Tomorrow, <a href="http://racingtoremember5k.com/">I run</a>.<br />
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I've been training for a couple of months, adding 30 seconds more running here, walking 30 seconds less there and the first Monday after I got back from <a href="http://allbsmymoodswings.blogspot.com/2012/08/the-adventure-begins.html">My Paddleboarding Adventure</a>, I knew I had to leave the dog in the crate and see how far I could go, so that I would have some idea of how deeply I might be embarrassing myself on Saturday.<br />
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I don't think I slept two hours in a row Sunday night. I kept waking up with dread, thinking I'm going to try to run and I'm going to DIE a quarter mile in. Fear and dread! Anxiety and trepidation!<br />
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And it went...<br />
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well. Surprisingly well. I walked my normal five minute warmup, and started to run. I promised myself that I would stop when I felt physically unable to continue.<br />
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I kid you not, I became Forrest Freaking Gump. I didn't run for 3 years, 2 months, 14 days and 16 hours, but I ran about 25 minutes without stopping. Without throwing up. Without a side stitch!<br />
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And I felt like I could've run more if I'd needed to.<br />
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I did feel like I was in early shin splints, but that wore off with some ibuprofen and some rest. I planned to do this run-until-I-can't one more time before race day.<br />
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And my schedule went all to hell. Did not get to run again until this morning, and I sure didn't want to run two days in a row, but I'm going to. Did the 5 minute warmup, which is probably just under a quarter mile and ran all but the last 2 tenths of TWO miles. My left ankle complained a lot at first and then shut the hell up. In short, in the words of Gwen Stefani, I am hella positive for real.<br />
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But, good dress, bad show as the actors say.<br />
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Say your prayers for me tomorrow.<br />
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moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-23102283503041704552012-08-06T14:09:00.000-04:002012-10-22T14:44:48.176-04:00The Adventure Begins<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Well, technically, it started the minute we merged on to I-75 and began our Quest for Fun, me and the Little Amiga, a/k/a Jose, a/k/a #2 daughter. Me driving 550 miles south, solo so to speak as #2 is not yet of driving age. Yes, I was nervous. Yes, I was a little scared. I saw more than one lady in the breakdown lane staring intently under the hood of her vehicle and I said several prayers that that would NOT be me on this trip. I remember hitting the Point of No Return just outside Birmingham and thinking this is where, if I do need help, I call Mom and Dad, not my husband! (And technically, it would have been AAA anyway).<br />
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Ok, so I stretched myself a bit. Went out of my comfort zone. Waaaaay out at times. There's a fine line between stretching your wings and flapping your arms in a lunatic fashion. See me above on the SUP, the Stand Up Paddleboard. Which is new my Favorite Thing EVER. Spent three hours learning how to do this. The toughest part was getting it back across the street to the rental shop in a driving wind. Awkward. #2 saw a porpoise fin in the water behind us. Set a new SUP record in her age group. Unofficially, of course.<br />
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I also braved my fear of heights and rode the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/360PensacolaBeach">360 Pensacola Beach Observation Wheel</a> with my Dad. Very nervous going up, but it was so quiet and smooth I got used to it quick. I did not like seeing the very ordinary rubber tires that they use on it - what they are for, idk, some kind of cog buffer, I suppose. But it was a very cool experience and some good views.<br />
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Note: #2 is sitting in the van beside the handicapped parking spot. She would not conquer her fear of heights on this trip.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-43894732375645922462012-07-27T12:51:00.003-04:002012-10-22T14:44:48.180-04:00Why "Adventure Lady"?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
and, why adventure, lady?<br />
<br />
To answer the first, being <i>of a certain age</i>, I find it inappropriate to address myself as Adventure Girl. Adventure Woman sounds kind of cheesy, with delusions of superpowers and tacky outfits and vestiges of Feminist monovision. Adventure Lady is the Goldilocks Solution. Not too silly, not too tweeny, just the right amount of that ole je ne sais quoi.<br />
<br />
I am, after all, a<i> </i>lady. <br />
<br />
As to the why adventure question, I covered that a bit before. My Golden Year. I need to stretch myself. Stuck in a rut, that's me. Seriously, I always drive the same path to work and the same path home. The only time it changes is if I don't have anyone else to take somewhere. It took me 3 days to work up the nerve to drive McCarter Hollow Road, even though I pass it every day and I *know* it comes out on Jayell, where I'm usually driving anyway. When it's that hard to think outside the box, you've got to change more than your underwear.<br />
<br />
So, this next year is about change and pushing boundaries, pushing envelopes, pushing my SELF out of her little hidey-hole.<br />
<br /></div>moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-2762754828669377232012-07-23T09:08:00.000-04:002012-10-22T14:44:48.178-04:00Adventure Lady Takes Off<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/555035_4400459928878_502639135_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/555035_4400459928878_502639135_n.jpg" /></a></div>
wherein I announce my intention of having grand adventures of which to blog. About.<br />
<br />
Sorry about the dearth of posts, peeps. Nothing has been happening that I want to write about and I find myself in the all too familiar position of having been there/written that for far too long.<br />
<br />
I will soon turn 49, which will be my 50th year breathing in and out. If I'm counting correctly, that is. We all know my math skills and the years I turned 36. Oops. But anyway, I've decided to make it My Golden Year. And not knowing anything else to do for such an auspicious occasion, I've decided to Have Adventures.<br />
<br />
Don't worry. My idea of adventure is taking a road I've never traveled or trying a new food. I do intend to try a zip line. Damn. Cat's out of the bag on that one.<br />
<br />
Anyway,<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.sacredart-murals.co.uk/images/mural-rooms/Shrek-ToyStory-Monsters-inc/buzz-lightyear-toy-story-murals.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://www.sacredart-murals.co.uk/images/mural-rooms/Shrek-ToyStory-Monsters-inc/buzz-lightyear-toy-story-murals.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
To Infinity and Beyond!!!! <br />
<br />
<br /></div>moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-53475390184682691602012-02-21T14:56:00.000-05:002012-02-21T14:56:55.653-05:00For All Soccer, Rancid and Branden Steineckert Fans Out There...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Branden wrote a song for Real Salt Lake.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mlssoccer.com/blog/mls-insider/2012/02/14/video-branden-steineckerts-believe">Check it out.</a></div>moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-19019972632170296602011-11-16T15:44:00.000-05:002011-11-16T15:44:56.782-05:00There's a Hole in My Stocking<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCD3PkSb_8vhLX5hTWN_LZM-WK3nPsWJNUxh8OCPbmIKOKK-keSWtu8qgHf5dj5esqo0A0Plzs4k8xcoEkCmDUG3J5ZgkkdWxslJ9_762c_HiHWzMyYcJg-H8KHkal8UBhzXENUA/s1600/miss-marple-01.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="262px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCD3PkSb_8vhLX5hTWN_LZM-WK3nPsWJNUxh8OCPbmIKOKK-keSWtu8qgHf5dj5esqo0A0Plzs4k8xcoEkCmDUG3J5ZgkkdWxslJ9_762c_HiHWzMyYcJg-H8KHkal8UBhzXENUA/s320/miss-marple-01.gif" width="320px" /></a><i>(dear Liza, dear Liza) <span id="goog_1113934630"></span><span id="goog_1113934631"></span></i></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Seriously.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">A big freaking hole right above my right ankle.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I planned my outfit out last night just before bed. The green skirt my sister gave me that is above the knee, but in no way a ... ahem ... a<i> mini</i>. The long sleeve green cotton pullover with a white cami underneath. My sensible brown Pappagallos. And the brown patterned tights that are just right underneath all this green. (note to self: I own waaaaay too many green articles of clothing!). I was a bit shy about wearing it, but as I slipped it on, I felt a little flutter of pleasure - this skirt and tights combo felt <i>right</i>. Something I haven't felt in my clothes/body in a long damn time. Thrills!</div><br />
And then I noticed the hole.<br />
<br />
Oh, <i>piss</i>.<br />
<br />
Then I channeled my inner <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Moving-Finger-Miss-Marple-Mysteries/dp/0451201167">Agatha Christie</a>, took a black Magic Marker, and colored my skin.</div>moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-54834892218850441552011-11-04T14:40:00.000-04:002011-11-04T14:40:44.769-04:00The Pledge<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">is <a href="http://allbsmymoodswings.blogspot.com/2011/11/silence-i-need-some.html">kicking my ass</a>.<br />
<br />
I spent my entire drive home Tuesday listening to the sounds of silence. My mind wandered all over the fricking place and I noticed things and I thought cool thoughts and I had ideas and it was <i>wonderful</i>. I went in to pick Josie up, and I forgot everything. <br />
<br />
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" /></div>moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-87254540190247998992011-11-02T15:46:00.002-04:002012-04-20T11:59:47.777-04:00Silence. I need some.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i>The world is too much with us: late and soon,</i><br />
<br />
I think that's Emily Dickenson. No, wait. It's Wordsworth. That's what Google is for, right? Eliminating the need for rumination, filling the void of thought with e-certainty, putting the facts at our fingertips. In .003 seconds or less.<br />
<br />
Been feeling a little overwhelmed lately. A little frantic. Unable to concentrate. Seeking, seeking, seeking. Always seeking.<br />
<br />
Google is my enabler. Twitter, Facebook and the <a href="http://www.elviscostellofans.com/phpBB2/index.php">Elvis Costello Fan Forum</a> as well. Just learned via Twitter that the amount of data shared online per week tops what the Hubble telescope collected in 20 freaking years. Don't need to actually read the article - the <a href="http://www.adweek.com/news/technology/data-points-share-and-share-alike-136164">headline</a> says it all. I never have one web page up anymore. It's always 4. Or 6. Or 8. And I never finish reading one before I jump to the next.<br />
<br />
Everything is so instant and available that it lacks urgency, yet still commands attention. Bits want bits, I suppose. Don't quote me.<br />
<br />
So, I'm taking a <strike>vacation</strike> I mean, pledge. No more than two pages up at a time. Facebook once a day. More blogging, less drowning in a tidal wave of trivia. I don't need to know anything else about Kim Kardashian. I don't need to compare ways to overwinter geraniums, I need to do something with the damn things before the frost gets them. <br />
<br />
Back to meditating also, before the brutal stew of thoughts gets wound too tight. Practicing some MINDFULNESS, which I now think I have a sense of - it was just a stupid flavor-of-the-week word that I failed for years to get the gist of. This may be the step backward right before the breakthrough. I hope so. I've been drowning My Little Voice for years. Years. Really! Years and years and years I've been turning the music up, the tv on, grabbing a book, starting a conversation (or a fight), anything but listening to myself, because myself was not something worth listening to, if you follow me.<br />
<br />
So, this begins a Pledge of Self-Care. I will walk, I will do my morning pages, I will meditate.<br />
<br />
Hope to see you soon, Unknown Reader(s)! </div>moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-90115526688432446252011-09-28T11:33:00.000-04:002011-09-28T11:33:12.772-04:00That One Thing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj2hTRF615cJoW-CZ5q3KGmscs9ot7bJOdYn-7M55gZ70-6Rno9PUg0sUmXed5dj226UbOjjw3Jkb3Is1UmUkQUPzx-Y12gzOm2K1gsNl9w4BrKALcGmnkJYCUeu_fxH1QJikHrQ/s1600/mascara.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj2hTRF615cJoW-CZ5q3KGmscs9ot7bJOdYn-7M55gZ70-6Rno9PUg0sUmXed5dj226UbOjjw3Jkb3Is1UmUkQUPzx-Y12gzOm2K1gsNl9w4BrKALcGmnkJYCUeu_fxH1QJikHrQ/s320/mascara.jpg" width="320px" /></a>Everybody's got it. That one thing they don't leave home without. That one thing that you just don't feel dressed <i>sans</i>*.</div><br />
(Smartasses, I am not talking literally here.) <span id="goog_1659206325"></span><span id="goog_1659206326"></span><br />
<br />
For me, it's mascara. I may be unshowered and unkempt, but I'm going to have the illusion of long lush lashes whenever I venture beyond my own mailbox. My hairdresser told of a client who could not leave home without polished fingernails. For some, it's earrings; others, a baseball cap. For a lot of us these days, it's a cell phone.<br />
<br />
What's your thing?<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">*Pretentious French word tossed in to avoid using "without" twice. Spent 5 minutes trying to think of the word "pretentious" and finally located it catty-corneredly through <a href="http://thesaurus.com/browse/superior">Thesaurus.com!</a></div></div>moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10527484.post-52498609886909566342011-09-05T14:44:00.002-04:002011-09-05T15:40:24.868-04:00The Ides of August<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">well, technically that's over, but it's a grand summation of the growing sense of dread I feel today. Or A summation. I'm not terribly articulate and prone to exaggeration.<br />
<br />
What I mean is, it's <strike>almost</strike> September. And that chills my heart. LITERALLY. Weather-wise, this is a beautiful time of year: warm days, cool nights, the humidity largely gone. Psyche-wise, it sucks donkey balls. <i>Rancid</i> donkey balls.<br />
<br />
And I can't quite put my finger on why. The end of summer, sure. That's depressing. Getting back in the rigid routine of the school calendar. Fall - and winter - on the horizon. I just feel so in flux, like everything is changing but in those old familiar ways. I always feel a little reborn and new in the spring, so I guess this is the bookend - feeling a little bit dead and most <i>def</i> a lot old. Yeah, I have a birthday coming up. And it's going to turn cold and the days are going to get shorter and shorter until the night lasts forever and I go to work in the dark and come home in the dark and everything is black and gray and ugly.<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">Très dramatique, n'est-ce pas?</div><br />
Oui. I know, I know. C'est vrai.<br />
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Stop me before I light up une Gauloise and look pensively out the window.<br />
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As much as I tell myself not to be silly and to get a gosh darn grip on it and to think sunshine and lollipops and other happy thoughts, I still feel it. Despite the hostile environment, it persists.<br />
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Onwards, into the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Long_Dark_Tea-Time_of_the_Soul">long dark teatime of the soul</a>, peeps. Onwards.<br />
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</div>moodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00014003132280035478noreply@blogger.com0