Adventures in Running

I don’t really have any interesting stories to share from this summer or at least none that come to mind except for this one. I started to become much more serious about increasing my miles per week this summer and increasing the lengths of my long runs. As I increased my long runs it became harder to run in Edmonds thanks to all the hills that were absolutely killing me. I’m not kidding – it wasn’t just the resulting shin splints, but the heart attack that was inevitable after running 8 miles and having the entire last mile be up a hill that made crawling seem like my best option.

So I started running the Burke-Gilman trail along Lake Washington, which can be quite crowded, but flat therefore worth it. Not to mention the people watching is always entertaining. Also, some of the houses are insane. I mean there really are some people who have tons of money and NO TASTE.

Annnnyway, this particular day was in August and it was easily over eighty degrees out and about a mile into my run I noticed this man riding his bike down the trail and instead of wearing the usual bicyclist uniform of full on spandex he was wearing jeans and a leather jacket. As he got closer I realized he was shouting something at me and I thought maybe he needs directions…although why anybody would need directions on a trail is beyond me, but I turned down the volume on my ipod and here, word for word, is what he was shouting (I could never forget this – it’s etched forever on my brain):

“Hey, Stupid Lady! You think running will make you a better fucker? It won’t! You’re a horrible fucker!”

And that right there is the most exciting run I have been fortunate enough to experience...although, I keep hoping to run into him again.

It's Pretty Much My Favorite Animal

I hope everybody had a fabulous weekend. I was quite busy studying for a business law test I have tonight and watching the Hawks get their asses kicked. I didn’t get to go to any rocking Halloween parties because I’m an old lady who doesn’t leave the house if it’s later than eight instead I spent all day at a coffee shop in downtown Edmonds inhaling caffeine and memorizing the different legal defenses for negligence.

While I didn’t get to get all dressed up and go to a fun party (even my Grandpa got to go to a Halloween party!) I was still able to see lots of adorable little kids. Edmonds shuts down Halloween night for kids to trick or treat and just as I was packing up my books a young family came into the coffee shop to get hot cocoas and one of their kids was dressed as a liger. I kid you not. It was the cutest little girl with blond girls and if I didn’t have a shitty camera with a broken phone I would’ve taken a picture. I just thought it was so utterly cool and original that she wasn’t a princess.

I really hope that if I have a little girl one day she doesn’t insist on being a princess. Not like I’m one to talk considering my favorite costume from when I was little was Snow White, but that’s only because I didn’t know Liger was an option.

When I left the coffee shop I could the streets were already full of families and kids ready to start the festivities. It was at that point that I realized that there is no other day in the year that quite makes me want to be a mom as much as Halloween does. I needed a quick fix of a tantrum throwing kid to get me back on track, but, unfortunately, I did not see one screaming kid all night. What are the chances of that? Seriously?

Once I got home Chuckles and I left to go see my nephews and wish Jared a happy birthday. Given the boys’ obsession with Star Wars this was the second year in a row their costumes had a Star Wars theme: Jared was Anakin Skywalker and Matthew was an Ewok. I know I’m prejudiced, but they were pretty damn cute…and funny. Every time Jared posed for a picture he put his hand up, which apparently means he is using the force on you. So that was my overly exciting Halloween, I know you’re oh so jealous. And I have to ask the question I’ve been asking everybody over the last week: what was your favorite costume growing up?

Back Blogging? Maybe?

So for the first time in a really long time I have actually felt like blogging. I used the excuse over the summer that the formatting is all screwy on my blog and I’m too lazy to try and figure out what’s wrong with it and I’ve been too busy to even think about blogging, but the truth is that I just haven’t felt like it. By the time I quit it had turned into a source of stress – I continued reading most everyone’s blogs, but only commented if it would’ve absolutely killed me if I didn’t.

BUT, ironically, the insanity that is my life lately is what is making me consider blogging again. You see nothing much has happened this summer except, EXCEPT, I got engaged! I know. It’s just too exciting.

The point is I am now working full time, going to school full time, and planning a wedding. Honestly, I’m not complaining, I’m super excited to get married – just ask Chuckles who is probably tired of hearing about just how excited I am…it’s just a lot to take on all at once.

But I was reminded this week when I realized that I wouldn’t have time to meet with any florists for another two months of a blog I came across when I first started blogging. I blogged about this when I first found it, but I don’t think anybody really read it so you’ll just have to deal with me recycling old material because it is much more relevant this time around. This other blog which I couldn’t even link to if I wanted to because I would never be able to find it again was all about how amazing this girl was and how we can all learn SO MUCH from her. She was also going to school in the evenings, working full time, planning a wedding, and AND exercising regularly (she was very very fit).

I am in a very similar situation as Miss Perfect because I have decided to run the Seattle Rock n Roll half marathon next summer so I am trying to run at least four days a week. So, anyway, this girl could do it all AND MORE. I mean she could probably do it all while juggling knives…that are on fire…or something equally difficult.

I, on the other hand, will be grateful if I walk down the aisle with a full head of hair. Really, when it comes right down to it, I think this girl was lying through her teeth about how easy it all was. Either, that, or she was only getting three hours of sleep a night, which is quite unhealthy, but would explain why she sounded so Cuh-razy.

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that girl has lost her marbles. Am I right or am I right?

In other news, there is a restaurant in Seattle that has “bacon fat sautéed candy corn” on its menu – they’re serving it with scallops. If I were honest about what I would do with free time it would be eating dinner at that restaurant, not going for a long run or meeting with florists.

Camping is for losers

Instead of being a lame ass this past weekend I actually went out with friends Saturday night for drinks. Somehow (God only knows how) the conversation got around to this awesome breakfast place in Marysville. After we had been discussing it for a few minutes Tits McGee turned to me and said, “Wait a minute, didn’t you throw up there?” To which I replied, “Of course – what restaurant haven’t I thrown up in?” No, no, not really…there’s still a few I need to leave my mark on. Tits McGee followed that up with another stellar question: “Why were you throwing up anyways?” At this point I had to ask, “Has it been that long since we’ve hung out? BOOZE, of course. What else could it possibly be?!”

Anyway, the point of this is it lead to a round of nostalgia as to why I will never EVER go camping EVER AGAIN. NEVER. I used to go camping every year with my friends on an Annual Camping Trip dubbed the ACT (we’re very witty people) and I think like most twenty somethings this was really just an excuse to get good and wasted for a whole weekend.

One particular weekend we didn’t have enough tents for everyone so I, extremely wasted at the time, offered to sleep outside. I think I had some romantic notion that it would be nice to sleep under the stars. I was sooo naïve.

The problem with sleeping outside in the oh so wonderful Pacific Northwest is that it rains occasionally, but, no worries, because we had erected a blue tarp to protect us from the dreaded drizzle.

However, we were not prepared for when it rained so hard a puddle formed in the middle of the tarp forcing it to collapse and bring down a bucketful of rain water on my head at 3 o’crotch in the morning. I assure you not the best way to wake a girl with a hangover and at this point I thought to myself, “I don’t fucking give a shit if there’s no room in the goddamn tent they are MAKING room for me.” So I barged in there waking everyone up and pushed everybody over so I could sleep and promptly lay down in a puddle. IN A PUDDLE! A freakin’ puddle had formed on the side of the tent and I flippin’ went for a swim in it.

That was the point at which I stood up and let loose a stream of swear words and sat in the back of Tits McGee’s car until we left to get a greasy breakfast at the restaurant that I threw up in. That, my friends, is why I will NEVER go camping again. NEVER.

Lunch with a side of anti-semitism

I haven’t had anything of interest to say lately except that I’m feeling a tad burned out, but I sure as hell don’t want to hear me whine so I am pretty sure nobody else does too.

However, I was reminded today of a choice conversation I overheard last week that I would be remiss in keeping to myself. The other day at lunch I was lucky enough to be sitting next to a pair of older ladies and instead of reading my book I stared at it as if it was telling me something extremely important in the hopes that they wouldn’t catch on to the fact that I was listening to their conversation.

Now before you get all Judgy McJudgerson on my ass I assure you that you would have been listening in too. Really the conversation consisted of woman ranting about the state of the world while the other woman nodded and threw in a few “You’re telling me”s for good measure.

Basically, for a good fifteen minutes this woman went on and on about those damn Mexicans and, really, when it comes right down to it, they are the ones that ruined the economy. While we’re on the subject of the economy what is with Prez Obama and flying everywhere on Air Force One? Can you believe how much fuel that costs?

Between him and the damn Mexicans it’s a miracle the economy isn’t completely in the dumps! Oh, and did you see who he hired to be the head of Homeland Security? A JEW!

Yep. At this point it was fairly obvious that I wasn’t reading my book and they left soon after so I didn’t get any more pearls of wisdom to share. My guess is they want on a tour of all the local wineries and then drove home drunk.

On a completely unrelated note, despite his hate for the blogosphere Chuckles is tweeting for his company (@Wilmerco) and everybody should follow him because he really does live up to his name. In fact, I just have to share my favorite one: “Kate's been mistakenly complaining about hot flashes this afternoon. What she means to say is flare-ups.” Sorry, Kate… Also, my friend, Maria, started a blog and she is quite the funny gal so you should check it out.

I don't want to grow up

Do you know what I really miss about being twenty two years old? Drinking games. Sure, I miss going out and dancing, but really I could still go out if I really wanted to…I just don’t have any friends anymore who want to join me.

Drinking games on the other hand seem immature once you reach a certain age and being a girl who loves her games this distresses me. I mean is there anything better than games that involve drinking – besides donuts of course (that’s a given).

I love making up silly rules and embarrassing people and anybody who’s ever played with me can tell you how much I enjoy yelling at people when they’re playing incorrectly and then forcing them to down their drink immediately.

So I have decided that I want to celebrate my next birthday (Yes, I am already planning it…this year’s was just such a disappointment) by playing multiple rounds of asshole, kings, red/black, really I could go on and on here. I think this will be an apt way of celebrating the beginning of my upper twenties. I know I said that twenty seven is upper twenties, but I was wrong – I’m still in my mid-twenties. Thank God!

Unfortunately, after the last game of Asshole played with my friends ended with Tits McGee storming out because I kept yelling at her to, “Pay attention for god sake!! It is your TURN. Is your drink empty?! WTF?!”

Soooo…I hope people will be willing to give me a second chance, but I’m not making any promises of good behavior. I guess I’m just hoping people will be willing to overlook my competitive nature and my tendency towards verbal assaults when losing and indulge my love for getting crazy drunk while playing cards. At least I’m giving people nine months to mentally prepare.

Cuh-razy

Life has been overwhelming me lately. School and work and doctor’s appointments have completely overtaken my life and last Friday when the alarm went off at 5:30 in the morning I threw what some might call a hissy fit and started screaming that I just couldn’t, COULD NOT, get out of bed.

Although, I eventually was able to get out of bed, I talked to one of my classmates over email later that day and he was nice enough to point out that things are only going to get harder from here on out. I’m two weeks away from finishing my first year, which I am very excited about, but have realized that this also means that all the easy classes are over. I’m taking two classes this summer instead of just one and next quarter I’m taking a similar load to what I have now.

So what I am getting at is that I felt in order to save my sanity something had to give. School is by far my top priority – I’m spending enough money on it. The thing to give would have to be work. I talked to my boss and am going down to a thirty-two hour work week. I was dreading him saying no because I really didn’t know what my next move would be, but, thankfully, he said yes…even though he sounded unsure about the whole thing.

Basically, though, it will work as long as I can get all my work done. The other rule that I have to follow for this plan to work is to get up at a reasonable time on Fridays. No sleeping in til noon, no more hissy fits about how I just CAN NOT get out of bed. (Although, I really meant it last Friday.)

Anycrapola, I think this might also mean a break from blogging. Who knows what’ll happen though right?!

On a compeletely different note– who do you think would win in a fight between Chuck Norris and a Liger?