Hitting the wall

I know everyone must have those days. You know how it goes: it's 3:00, 3:30 in the afternoon and you're sitting at your desk at work when all of a sudden time stops. Three hours later and it's 3:35. You've just hit mile 12 of a half marathon. What do you do?

That's what I do. Or did, today.

Escaping the drama!

What an amazing day: I started it out with a very short (just barely over two miles) run, then a nice walk and talk with friends followed by appetizers at a cafe.

It felt great to go out with those friends for a change. Ever since we moved into this house, I've wanted to entertain, and be involved with people. Be present. Enjoy life. So today, we did.


We came, we walked. We laughed, we talked. We ate, drank, and were merry. A pleasant time was had by all.

Forget Ann Landers. And relationships.

I've been thinking about relationships recently. Friends, family, and other loved ones. Some relationships get stronger through life events, good times and bad; some kind of fall apart, and you wonder why you were friends in the first place. What exactly was the point of this relationship? It mutually beneficial once, but somehow it turned one-sided. You do all the work. It isn't fun anymore, and despite what Ann Landers might say, you just don't have the energy, time, or sanity required to hold on.

I love that my relationships with some people (one person in particular...

...) only get better and better. But unfortunately, one cannot live with just one relationship. There are so many relationships in life.

How do you deal with the ones that head South?

86 ft? Yeah, I had places to be.

If you ask Garmin, I ran 86 feet in 0:38 (whether that means 38 seconds or 38 minutes, I'm not sure); but if you ask my new favorite app, I ran 1.63 miles in 18 minutes and 13 seconds.

Crazy right? Just a little discrepancy.

I should've woken up and started to get my booty in gear sooner though. I didn't have much time to run before my hair appointment. I needed a cut in a big way.

I don't look very happy in the "after" picture only because I was hangry; it was almost 1:00 and I hadn't eaten all day! It was my own fault, but I chose running instead of eating.

I'm all geared up to do my "long run" (six miles) tomorrow; I'm considering going to the park, but it would mean driving there and back, and I'm not sure I want to have to carry a key with me.

Is this normal practice, to go somewhere to run just six miles? Or am I being a drama queen for wanting to spice it up, and avoid running my neighborhood loop that I'm so used to?

A doggy stare-down and a potential Christmas picture

At some point during our Dark Knight movie marathon yesterday, this guy gave me this all-knowing, stare-into-my-soul look.

I gotta say, it was a little unnerving, the way he looked at me. It wasn't exactly immediately, even: he jumped up on my lap, kinda sorta settled, rearranged, and looked at me again. Then he sat up on his elbows, looked closer, then raised up on his front paws. And stared me down. Very strange.

We decided we need to see the entire previous season of Breaking Bad before the final season starts in...is it June? BTW, how cool would it be to have this as one of the pictures on our Christmas card this year? Very. That's the answer: very cool. I'm still trying to convince Tim.

Shaver Lake: There

Friday morning, we said a quick goodbye to our two oblivious doggies, and then we headed for the hills!

'Round about 3:00, we arrived ar and checked into our destination: The Elliott House Bed & Breakfast. It was the first time either of us had stayed at a B&B (I may have when I was little, v but I don't remember it).

Every square inch of the place was lovely, adorable, charming. We loved it and can't wait to return. Even the bathroom was cute!

How cute that there's an electric candle in the window! I want those for my house. I was in love.

We stayed in the Dogwood room ("suite"? I'm not sure about the labeling. No matter...). We weren't really there for the room so much as the location of the place, and it's proximity to snow.

At about 4:30, there was a "Happy Hour," where they give you wine, cheese, crackers, coffee, cookies... whatever you want. Very cool. I loved the atmosphere: happy, relaxed guests, laughing, loving, and making plans for the next day.

Which is exactly what we discussed.

...After we walked down the road to get a pint of Vanilla Heath Crunch.

And spot at least a couple of grammatical errors (yes, I was completely offended). We walked back to our room to eat our ice cream and watch "Sweet Home Alabama" followed by "Serendipity" while snuggling in bed.

It was a perfect first day of a getaway.

Tomorrow's gotta be better than this

Yesterday (Monday)was horrible: I was embarrassed, humiliated in public; my back hurt from sitting in uncomfortable seating for hours on end; then I had to deliver some disappointing news.

Today wasn't much better: getting yelled at over the phone, trying to argue a point and losing (which may cost someone bigtime), and my love didn't get home until much later than I thought.

Plus, I need to run.

So when I got home I made brownies.

And Tim instituted Talker Tuesday. For this week, anyway.

Not that it's nearly as much fun as "Moonstruck" at full volume during lunch...

Can't trust that day

Yesterday was a Monday from the moment I woke up until... well, I'll get to that.

Maybe it started even before my alarm rang:
I slept...not well.
I woke up...grumpy. And unwilling to get out of bed to run in the freezing temps.
I was running late to work.
My favorite morning radio show got discontinued (just for the station here in town where the show is syndicated).
It was my first day in a new (additional) job capacity; it didn't go well.
I got called out in a very public, embarrassing way.
Tim wasn't there when I pulled in the garage.
Cue the frikkin' violins.

So we watched Lost, ate dinner, and snuggled until we fell asleep.

Ahh...peace. I love that even when I have a crappy day, I can still count on my love to help make it better.

I know what you're thinking...

Alert.
Warning.
Beware.
Caution.
No, seriously: crazy mad woman on the loose.

Little things have decided to annoy me today.
What? No, it has nothing to do with my wild mood swings. Why would someone think such a hurtful thing? It's okay, I love you.

Apropos of nothing, my husband is a saint.

I was doing a normal Saturday thing (cleaning, doing laundry, sorting and folding and hanging) when these rabble-rousers decided to suicide-by-cop (me) themselves, and I yanked them off of the bar. They were totally asking for it. Totally nothing to do with me, not at all.

With that, I was banished to the upstairs, where I decided to chill out a little (ahem, a lot) by updating my iTunes library to include some totally rockin' favorites I got for Christmas.

To quote "I love the 90s" (one of my favorite shows): "I know what you're thinking: damn dirty hippy." And you're not wrong. John Denver doesn't even have a shirt on that cover (but boy, does he wear some loud 70s ones on the inside pages)! And don't knock the Carpenters; I can't help that I love them so much.

After a quick oh-crap-I-forgot-to-read-multiples trip to the grocery store, we made this wonderful salad. It starts off with red and green lettuces, then cucumber, bell peppers, the last of the kalua pork, and then the whole thing is drizzled with write this downvery important** mango balsamic vinegar and citrus habanero olive oil. Out burns soooo good! Oh baby.

Finally, because I needed a little giggle tonight, I present to you: FISH JOKES!! If you can't use a little laughter, just skip it.

Good night!

How I'm like Lindsay. But not for the same reasons.

I've returned to loving running. Yesterday's four-and-a-half-miler felt really great. I went home kinda wanting to go again right then and there. I was excited; honestly, I still am, but there's this thing...

Yesterday, towards the end of that run, I started sneezing and it wasn't just some little blip: by the end of the day, I looked a little like Lindsay Lohan.

My left eye was so swollen and painful it even woke me up multiple times last night! I can barely breathe even if I'm just sitting on the couch, so how am I supposed to run like this? Dang it!!

This should make for a fun day in court on Monday (unlike Lindsay, though, I'll be there for work).

Just a friendly bout of crack cold...what!?

It all started innocently enough: my first run with a friend. It's true, what they say, I discovered: running and talking with a friend really makes the miles fly by! I had high hopes for this morning: three miles. Maybe.

It was all just a pipe dream until I had to stop to walk, and checked how far we had run. To that point, it was just barely less than three and a half miles.

I was a little on the pooped side (not literally, fortunately). I think I ran through something toward the end that I'm probably deathly allergic to...

Yadda yadda... I feel like a contestant...er... "patient" on Celebrity Rehab. All of a sudden, I'm sneezing and tearing up non-stop. It's in my head, not my chest, but still... I just wish it would go away.

A great accomplishment!

Last night (and actually pretty constantly for about the last week), our sink has been overflowing with dirty dishes. And Tim, in his new job, has been coming home late this week. Usually we come home from work, eat, unwind from our long work days, and head to bed. There isn't much time for cleaning.

But last night, I did it. I got EVERYTHING (ahem, minus two Tupperware lids which we aren't going to mention, ahem) in the dishwasher. And now it's running.

And soon I'll be running, too. With a friend. For the first time (with her). Very exciting. Forgot to ask about her pace...oh crap, this could be interesting.

A quick rundown

Other things have been going on, too...

I officially started training for my third half marathon, this time using this training schedule. Ten weeks. It's gonna ramp up quick, dude. I'm worried about how pooped I get already; this should be interesting.

I'm almost disappointed to say I have a one-track mind recently; I'm all geared to gain 20-50 lbs (give or take... everyone's different).

Also, I have an addiction. To Pinterest.


Oh! And PER MY REQUEST, I planned what we're doing on February 14 th. (I hate "Valentine's Day;" I even call it "VD." Yes, I'm one of THOSE women, one who's OBVIOUSLY being beaten down. OBVIOUSLY abused. OBVIOUSLY feels unloved.)

Ohh wait, I'm none of those things? That must mean I can make my own decisions. Crazy. So our plans:

I'm serious: this is what I'm doing. With my husband. We're skipping the roses (as always, a standing request).

In other news, I've found some pretty cool Facebook and other social media postings that were awesome enough to save to my device:

Behold: a puppy.

A motivational quote.

Where I would like to run some day.

Ahh...the good old' days of carefree medication. Now I'm down to just my (ahem) vitamins.

I can't believe how crazy he didn't believe I am!

I can't remember what I was so excited to share earlier this weekend; maybe it'll come to me. (Probably not.)

One of my favorite things is to make people think I'm crazy (note: it could very well be that I like to fool myself into believing that I'm not; it's kind of a toss-up). So today, as my work computer was changed out, I had a bit of down time, which I spent people watching (and catching up on stuff that didn't require a computer... or monitor... or desk... or training material). Blah, blah... I ended up actually asking the IT vendor guy if he was aware that if you get a very quick glance of him, from far away away, without your glasses, and you're so tired you're basically on the verge of hallucinations, he kinda sorta looks a little teeny tiny bit like Olympic speed skater Apollo Anton Ono.

I even conned the poor guy into letting me take a picture of him. Now I have proof:

SOMEONE BOUGHT INTO MY INSANITY!!

Busy boxes and Typhoid Maria

Continuing the theme of the weekend (busy busy busy, go go go!), yesterday. In a nutshell.

Our first stop yesterday was the farmers market, where we found soap made from the oils of palm, coconut, and palm.

Does that seem redundant (or repetitive) to anyone other than me? Blah blah we were this close to bringing home a totally adorable pit bull mix, but it just didn't seem right. The time. The dog. Us. It wasn't right. For now.

Next was moving Tim from Point A to Point B, this office to that. It was just down the street from the farmers market, and on our way home, so I tagged along to help when and how I could. I ended up being the one to put stuff in boxes, wheel them over, and unload them. It was dark. I was alone some of the time. I had to find something to make myself smile.

Gah! Scary people peeping through the box handle! Teehee.

I found some other fun sights, too.

And I stole a cookie from a friend's desk. What? He left 'em there!

Because I'm a trouble maker, I had Tim take a picture and send it to the friend, who responded by telling us that "Typhoid Maria" brought them. The same Maria that went home early to find out that she had strep throat.

Oh.

Holy.

Crap.

So if I get sick and die from those frikkin' cookies, it's my own fault. Sorry for stealing a cookie. Tim took one, too! (For the record.)

Take two. Let's get this right this time.

Ugh, my blogger app just lost this post I did. It was thought-out; it took a while to write; it was my masterpiece! It would have won a Pulitzer Prize. I coulda been a Prize-itzer Pool winner (ten points if you get the reference). Ah well. Let's try again.

By mid-day on Thursday, I realized I had a major craving for a couple of things: #1

Eureka Burger, and #2

A Sazerac.
Or two (same difference).
Oh yeah, and #3: salt (not pictured, because I didn't have it until Friday, for dinner).

So we grabbed a friend, stole him away from his sick beloved, and headed to Fresno for burgers and Sam's Club.

We all had a great time. Chitting. Chatting. Joking. Laughing.
On the way to my very quick obgyn appointment at the Selma Kaiser, this picture and this song popped up on our console.

It made me smile because Xander (my little brother who passed away 12/13/2011) once opened (with the band he was in) for Dave Matthews Band, and he hated them with a red-hot passion. Especially "Satellite," which was always my favorite. It's little things now, over a year later.

It was my nephew's birthday yesterday; I can't help but love the stuffin' outta this guy. I used to have a recording of him saying, "Bubba [that's me], you are my best fwend!" Now that he's officially fifteen years old (good grief!), he chooses to slay zombies instead of cuddle with Bubba and say "I love you" over and over again. Go figure.

Obviously, I had no choice but to embarrass the holy hell out of him on facebook and instagram, plus pepper him with lovey-dovey birthday text messages. Obviously.

Next up: some strange French film that's been raking in the dough. Our friend wanted to see it, so we agreed to go (for the second time).

Good movie. Plus, no subtitles, "win-win!" (Twenty points if you get that reference).

Did I mention I've been craving salt? Yeah, like it ain't nobody's business. We had to get soup (my demand for dinner), so we hit Panera (and Kirkland's) on our way to turn our friend back over to his beloved. Their chicken noodle (not to mention their corn chowder) is incredible!!

So...anyone ever go to Panera? Any favorites there?
What about my movie references? Any movie dorks like me out there?

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