29

First, a moment for Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. When James and I were kiddos, we used to dance to the Thriller record in our family room.

Today, I am 29. My best present: a phone call from Scott at 7:30 his time, in his sleepy voice, calling to say Happy Birthday.

I had a list of reasons it's good to be 29, but I forgot it. I am getting old. Hardeeharhar.

passe

The way I see it, blogging had about a year window of cool. How do I know? That's the year I was participating on a regular basis...duh. Now that year has passed, and it seems like everyone else is over it too. Among the blogs on my blogroll over there, only 1 or 2 are updated with any sort of regularity. I cant bring myself to delete the ones that have been stagnant for many months.

Is twitter the new blogging? I don't even understand twitter, but I am trying to partake since my good friend is writing her dissertation on it and what not. Plus I like the "tweets" for free stuff and deals at places like Ruths Chris. And let's just call a spade a spade, alright? Isn't twitter really just glorified advertising for marketers worldwide? I thought so.

Work continues to be crazy and up and down and I dont sleep very much and I worry all the time. Not a good feeling. I plan to take a nice long run after work and then perhaps meet some friends at the Y for weights.

chick flicks

I have a running lists of "pros" that I refer to when Scott is gone. Not that there are really any true pros to him being gone (other than that he's doing what he loves, obviously), but I like to trick myself into finding happiness and convenience in the small things. For example, one "pro" is that I run a lot more when he is gone. My mileage goes way up, and I really enjoy it. Last year, work got in the way of training for the OBX marathon, but this year I am going to train again in his absence and try to stick with it (not a lot of work travel coming up, or at least I'm keeping my fingers crossed that that holds true). Here's hoping that my parents get me the new running shoes I want for my birthday; I turn 29 next week.

I also read a lot more. I have 3 books in my bag right now. I am struggling to get through The White Tiger, which was the 2008 Booker Prize winner, but I'll try to plow through it. I usually love the Booker Prize books, but this one is just not resonating with me.

Another pro:

When Scott is out of town, the movies in my Netflix queue get significantly dumber. To kick this off, we went to the theater to see The Hangover the Friday before he left. I'm not pretending that I'm not a snob. I am. Totally. So, you know, this movie was stupid. Did I laugh? Yes. Was the movie ridiculous and pointless? Yes. I have enough of a sense of humor to be able to enjoy a movie like The Hangover, but I didn't think it was any brilliant comedy, and I was even bored at times.

Last night I watched my first dumb Netflix movie, He's Just Not That Into You. Totally dumb. Exactly what I needed. Just a mindless 2 hours with an occasional laugh. The only real offense I take is that the couple that was never going to get married but still loved each other relentlessly ended up getting engaged at the end of the movie. What does that say about American society, still? Ridiculous. Why does marriage always have to be the solution? But I suppose I know myself well enough to know that I am biased.

I am not very focused today. I am about to drive to Michigan and am too excited to sit still. But up next in the queue: Paul Blart, Mall Cop. Can't wait.

love the unknown

Scott left yesterday for a big trip. The first "leg" takes him to some awesome places he's (we've) never been: Vancouver and Banff and some others. I am very excited for him.

I am sad too. It gets easier, but it remains difficult. I love him for who he is and would not have it any other way. But I miss him. And I feel a little lonely today.

But, oh the places he'll see. So amazing. He's my traveler.

sew

Two posts in one day. Craziness.

I have been increasingly absent, likely because I am increasingly busy. It's nice that this spot is still here, even if I don't use it much.

Scott is likely hitting the road again soon. It is extremely exciting. I cant explain properly to the people who don't understand: it's who he is and what he is, and it's all the reasons I love him, which is what makes it okay that he goes. Some people dont get it, and I accept that. My only internal request is that they dont judge it. Maybe it is not the lifestyle for them, but it's a lifestyle that is decidedly for me. Our relationship makes me happy, and isn't that the point?

Anyway, he is probably hitting the road more suddenly than we expected. It's fine. Obviously it'll be hard sometimes, and obviously I will miss him while he is gone; but I am pretty excited for where he is going. And I am always excited for when he comes back.

thank you for being a friend

I had this thought last night as I was sitting alone in the Macaroni Grill in a town I've never been. I had driven alone for about 5 hours so that I could attend meetings today. I arrived at yet another lonely hotel and was left to my own devices in a new, unfamiliar place.

(Let me make an aside: I am fortunate enough to stay at some pretty swank hotels, and those are easier to take. It's never quite so lonely when you're at a 5 star place, enjoying amenities that you aren't paying for. I love to travel and it's always a blessing to see new places and to explore. Sometimes, last night being one of them, that's not really an option. It's when you arrive late and are leaving early that it hits the worst. It's the mediocre hotels that are lonesome, the dime a dozen airport spots with inevitably sand papery sheets and carpet you don't want to touch with a bare foot. Those places always, still after all this time that I've had this career, make me ache for home, for the familiar, for love).

So I had this thought as I was eating over salted food in the Macaroni Grill because I had arrived late and couldn't find a quaint, local place. I was texting back and forth with Alexis about nonsense things: 1 pound lobsters, shrimps, little nothings and inside jokes. And I thought: how lucky am I to have this friend when I am lonely and bored. But moreover, how lucky am I to have this friend despite those times, in fair weather too, and in great times too. How lucky am I for her? Someone who gets my jokes and my nonsense and who is just there. Simply because we are friends. It's so simple and yet incredibly amazing. The saying is that good friends are hard to find, and that is very true. But when they are found, you just hold on tight.

little yellow flowers dotting fields of lanky grass

Enter my favorite part of the year in East Tennessee. This is the time of year that reminds me of why I moved here in the first place, and I am nostalgic for the year I packed all my stuff into waterproof crates and drove down to live in a shack by the river with Scott. It rained a lot that spring and summer; and we used to spend frequent early mornings up in our little loft, listening to the rain on the tin roof. I would climb down the ladder to make some coffee, scatter yesterday's grounds in the pit outside our door, wave to Red across the path, put Willie Nelson on the record player, and then climb back into bed with coffee for me and Scott.

Then we had a few years of drought; and the rain was scarce, and the water was very low. This place is still a beauty, but there's something about the abundant rain that makes it even more so. The feel, the smell.

And this year, the rain is kind to us, and we've had strings of rainy days, long periods of wetness. My allergies hate it, but every other part of me is completely at peace.

I had wanted to take a bit of vacation this holiday weekend, but now that I rethink it, there might be nothing more perfect than a weekend on the river; a rafting trip, lazy mornings in the sun or listening to the rain, reading, relaxing, happiness. It's possible that we need to go to Hot Springs on Saturday anyway, and I look forward to a trip down the French Broad and a beer or two on the patio at the Paddler's Pub.

I have not found what I am looking for yet (I am searching for a change, though), but there is that big part of me that knows, all the way down into my core, that Scott has always been right; the key to all of this happiness is not the job, not the equity, but the very smallest things, like rain on a tin roof while you are snug in a sleeping bag next to the one you love very most of all.

(the post script is that I have so much wonderful in my life except for one thing, and it is time time time for that one thing to go).

the river is wide

Northern California. Or Europe.

cheap date

R has discovered that flights from Knoxville to the airport in close proximity to her down there in Florida are only 80 dollars, ROUND TRIP! This summer just got a little better. The beach and R...good times.

best blog in the world. ever. in the world. ever.

Today is a happy day. My other blog (which is the collective effort of 8) has been named the best blog in the world. Ever.

Or rather, it's the best Knoxville blog, as decided by an indeterminate number of people, probably 6 or 7 max.

But really, wigsphere.com was named Best Knoxville Blog by the readers of the Metropulse, via the annual Metropulse Best of Knoxville Readers' Poll.

I have an odd relationship with blogging, namely that I dont like to admit that I do it and will lie to your face if you ask me about it. But still, I am proud on this day. We Little Knoxvillians, the name Jason gave the blog when he opened the blogger account on an historic day in our pink train station office with a New York City theme and a space heater (and the name I most definitely prefer to our new moniker Wigsphere), are a good, thoughtful group of people. And I am proud. It may be true that I write this blog with an audience of one (my friend Alexis) in mind, but I do know that others read it, and I appreciate that. More than I will ever admit.

Holla!

sunday thoughts

My mom is at church, so I'm just killing time until she gets back and we head to brunch. Then I have to take her to the airport, which makes me sad.

I am trying to work out a plan for working from Michigan for the month of June, which would involve helping my mother take care of my grandmother, whose health is in serious decline. I would really like to do this. Scott will be on the road again, and I think it would be important to spend time with my grandmother before she dies, and to help my mother. I know the process of being a full time caregiver to her mother has not been easy. It would be nice to share the burden. It's sad to use the word burden, but that's what it is to her - physically and emotionally. And otherwise, there are babies on the way and exciting move opportunities for a good friend and Tigers games to be watched, etc.

I had a thought the other day that I should switch careers and be a pre-school teacher. I am really, really ridiculously good with young children. I just have a knack for them. And I don't want any of my own, so I feel like I should use the talent somehow. But then there's the 40 thousand dollar pay cut I would be taking. I guess if I plan to become a pre-school teacher, I should also go ahead and just pencil in a plan to win the lottery.

I think my ankle is finally well enough that I can start running long distances again. And guess what?! It's about 80 million degrees. I am not a fan of running in very hot weather, so I hope to convince myself to run directly after boot camp in the mornings. We will see.

My mom bought me a lovely new Coach bag for when I meet Condoleezza Rice next week. It's blue and my laptop fits in it and everything. I am a huge fan of Condoleezza Rice, despite her political swayings. I think she is a good role model to women, strong and smart and sophisticated. And you know she had a lot to put up with in that administration, and I think she did it all with grace.

Oh, and I may have lined up a gig to bartend a few nights a week. I am excited for this. I miss it, and I am good at it, and I never so no to extra money even if I have to work for it. (Lottery, I am coming for you).

100 block should be renamed zero

This is what my block looks like right now. It is not awesome.



Not in the least.

when you're your own coworker

I had a revelation today. Now that I work with only myself, I really miss the company of coworkers. Lately I have been desiring a happy drink, like I used to do a lot, back before Boot Camp. Once I stopped going to happy hour, I really didn't miss it. But I realized that lately, after I get home for the day, it's all I want to do. And today it hit me: I'm lonely. I spend all day alone at work without the company and camaraderie of coworkers. Used to, I couldn't wait to get home and have some alone time. But now that I spend the entire work day alone, I find it really exhausting to come home and be alone again. It's not every day, and I've definitely got my home life with Scott, but there's this 10 hour stretch of the day that I used to spend with others, and now I spend it with myself. I could use a happy hour drink with friends right now.

lickety-splickly

A moment of grace today:

Sometimes I can be disciplined enough to listen to my iPod on shuffle without skipping a single song. On my old faithful, it doesn't happen very often because there are over 6,000 songs, a lot of which I should but cant bring myself to delete. But with my snazzy new iPod Touch, it's not so hard because I've only got 339 songs loaded and I add and subtract pretty frequently.

We all know that Tom Waits is my mostfavoritest, but I dont know why I dont listen to much of his old stuff on a regular basis. It's all good; I love it all. So I really should.

I'm working away, alone at my office today (a regular event these days), and on comes Ol' 55 from Closing Time. This is a song that evokes the exact feeling of falling in love with Scott, back about 6 1/2 years ago, back when we used to drive around listening to Martha and other Closing Time gems. I remember driving home with him for the first time in my trusty old Suburban, I guess it was in a January. I remember, too, driving back away from him a few days later and listening to Ol '55 and thinking: this is exactly how I feel, this is exactly how it is.

It still is.

13.1

Yesterday was Knoxville's 5th annual Marathon, Half Marathon, 5k and Marathon relay. On Friday, I decided to run the half; on Saturday I registered as a late registrant.

The decision came so late for a lot of reasons. I had been on the road pretty constantly during what would have been my training months; and then Scott and I took a long and lazy vacation, so the opportunities to train just weren't there. But some recent changes at work (a gazillion economy related cancellations) mean that I'm going to be traveling a lot less for the time being (I would call this a blessing, though I suppose it really isn't).

Last year after I ran and really enjoyed the Marathon Relay, I told myself that I would run the Half in 2009. But when the training window approached, I looked at my calendar, and it just didn't seem realistic. So I tabled the idea. As the Marathon date was approaching, I was feeling increasingly bummed that I wasn't participating. So on Friday after Boot Camp, I just decided, what the hell; I'll do the race even though I haven't trained. It's only 13.1 miles, and the worse case scenario would be that it would suck a lot and I would walk it. So after Saturday's Boot Camp workout, I consulted with my good friend Joanie; and we went to the Marathon Expo to sign me up for the race.

Up to that point I had been having a wonderful weekend anyway. On Friday, Scott and I went to dinner and then to the David Lynch double feature at the Bijou (Eraserhead is dumb). I woke up at 7:30 and had a great Boot Camp workout with Kel, Joanie and Krista. I was feeling very inspired. And I just really wanted to do the half; I knew I could do it. Joanie, her husband and I mingled around the expo after registration, and then we went to meet Scott for lunch at the new Cuban restaurant on my block. It was delicious! I had a really light and yummy white fish topped with a Cuban "salsa" with fresh veggies and black bean. Good food, good company. After lunch, Scott and I watched a movie at home, and then he left for a 2 day hike in the Smokeys with some friends. I took a nap, and then Joanie and I went to drive the race course. I was slightly intimidated by all the hills once I saw them all laid out in front of me one by one(it is a very hilly, very challenging course), and my nerves were definitely settling in. But Joanie is a very good motivator, so I went to bed feeling excited, if not slightly nervous.

5 o'clock Sunday morning came very quickly, and I got up to prep for the race. And then suddenly it was 7, and the gun was about to go off. So I ran. The first 5 miles were amazing. I felt excited, charged, happy. Running through campus and along Neyland and through the church corridor on Cumberland. It was beautiful and refreshing. I was having a very good run. Since my 5k pace is usually 7:30, I wanted to try to hold between 9 and 10 for the half. I was holding a steady 9 for the first 5 miles. During miles 5 though 7, I started to notice a pain in my arches, but the run was still going well. I had told myself ahead of time that if I ran a good first 7, I would allow myself to take a quick walk break up the first half of the beast of the hill on Noelton St. So I did. Then back to running. At the top of the hill, Kellie and Jess and Ashby's parents were cheering, and it was truly great to see them.

Miles 9 through 11 were the most challenging for me. Cardio-wise, I was feeling like I could run all day. But my legs, gluts, hips and hip flexors were really starting to tell me otherwise. But I kept going and tried to focus on the music and the runners around me. Before the race, I had also told myself that if I made it to the Fort in under a 10 minute pace, I could walk the hill on 21st St. So I allowed myself that brief walk as well. Then it was the home stretch. Joanie was waiting for me, cheering me on at the Candy Factory, and then I was almost home. I hit the 50 yard line in Neyland Stadium at 2:08:26, which is a 9:48 average pace, under 10 minutes, which was my original goal.

I am happy with that time. But the thing is, I did not train for this race. Not really at all. Last month, I was only home for Boot Camp 6 out of 30 days, and other than that I haven't done any runs longer than 4 miles in 5 or 6 months. So, yeah, I am really happy with that time; and I know that if I had trained even moderately, I would have gone under 2 easily, which has always been my way to judge a good Half.

I have run 13.1 miles before, but there is something incredible about doing it in the town you consider home, with a group of amazing friends invested in the day as well.

I was honored to be a part of the Marathon, all those people out there giving it their all (truly). I was honored to participate when yesterday was also my good friend Ashby's first ever full Marathon. He and his wife Faith came in from Saint Louis to do the races in their hometown (Ashby did the full, and Faith did the half). I was honored to be among so many good friends who ran the 5k. I was so happy for and proud of Joanie, who ran a killer 5k. I was blessed by good friends cheering me on at tough parts during the race, and I was blessed by all of our Boot Campers out their running their races as well. It was a really good day.

And then: a free day because I am a veteran "camper," and a beer at Barley's with Ashby and Faith to celebrate.

guessing game

My camper month is going really well so far. The funniest change is that I'm really antsy because I don't know which workout is going to be next. Instructors obviously get the schedule ahead of time and know who's leading which workout, etc. But the monthly schedule is something we keep private from campers, so that they can't skip on the days that they think are extra hard. I was refreshed this morning when all 3 guesses I had lined up turned out to be wrong. It was a fun, hard workout in the steady rain. I've got some guesses lined up for tomorrow, too, but perhaps I'll be wrong again.

I've been making good use of my Y membership, too. I don't want to spend too much time there now that it's spring and good workouts can be done outside after work, but there are a few pilates and yoga classes I'm hoping to frequent regularly. I am one of the least flexible people I know. I blame a string of very intense swim coaches I had from the ages of 7 through 17, who never stressed the importance of stretching. So I just never did it. Never. I still hate stretching (it is boring), and I have to force myself to do it, and when I do get around to doing it, it's halfheartedly at best. I do know, however, how important it is; so I'm hoping that the pilates and yoga classes will help me out. I also want to invest (and at 200 bucks for some absolutely hideous looking shoes, it is an investment), in some MBT shoes. They're supposed to revolutionize your posture, and my friend Lewis gave an amazing testimonial, so now they're on my wish list.

My plan for the spring and summer is Boot Camp in the morning, a jog after work and then after the jog, the later evening pilates or yoga classes at the Y. I want to try to do those 3 times a week.

The problem with working out after work these warm months is that the lure of the patio (and beer) is almost too much. For my camper month, I'm alcohol free except for Scott's birthday, and I'm not worried at all about caving in. But I know that eventually, beers with friends on the Urban Bar or Brewery Patio are going to be extremely appealing. Hopefully I'll be able to make myself get in good 30 minute run before succumbing to the patio.

Speaking of will power, I've been doing extremely well with the Boot Camp nutrition plan this month. I even had to force myself to eat lunch today because I wasn't all that hungry. I hope this keeps up.

Otherwise I'm just thinking over career options in this weird economy. It's a lot to think about. I have a lot of thoughts on it, which I should not discuss on a blog, but I just wanted to throw something out there.

So, my guess for tomorrow...either Jump Rope, Fartlek 50s, or Colonel Crunch. We'll see what's what...

Friday update: I guessed correctly; today was jump rope, and it was awesome.

camper!

I've passed my year mark with Operation Boot Camp and to celebrate, I am going to be a camper this month. I am ridiculously excited. New camps begin on Monday, 3/23. Consider joining me! You can read about it here and register here.

Over a year ago, I was totally amazed at what Boot Camp did for my fitness level, my energy level, my endurance and my running times. A year later, I am still in love with the program. Now after a few months of heavy work travel, and indulgent vacation (I did run every day that we were in California, but then we were on the road for over a week), and some stressful changes at work, I am ready to recommit to the program by being a camper, by pushing myself to the limit and by kicking ass. I love OBC and all my instructor friends, and I just kind of want to share the wealth.

thurs

I am supposed to be writing a script, but I have a serious block and the blank page staring I'm staring at is starting to frustrate me. This one is harder than usual.

We had a nice weekend visiting with the baby, who is more adorable every time we see her. She is all smiles these days, and is extremely personable. She's my little buddy.

Saint Patrick's day was fun, too. It's a holiday I've always enjoyed since I grew up going to Saint Patrick's school and parish. We had planned on having a low key night, but that didn't happen. It was fun. I'm usually in bed by 10 these days (even on our vacation, we only made it to 1:00 in Vegas...and I was really pushing to make it that far) so it was a fun change of pace.

Looks like I'm going to be a camper next month (starting on Monday), and I'm really excited because it's exactly what I need. Work is going to be extremely stressful for a while, so I could use an hour a day to zone out and be pushed by others. I am getting antsy thinking about it; I really cant wait.

Gram was moved to a nursing home a week or so ago. I know my mom hated to do it, but it really was the only option. Gram told mom that she liked it, too. Her mind's not really there anymore, but I know that was a blessing for my mom to hear.

Mom's coming to visit in April, and I've also got a 30th birthday party to plan for Scott. We'll see Unknown Hinson and The Felice Brothers and maybe Anthony Bourdain this month too. And a family reunion. And then there's Bonnie Prince Billy in May.

My heart really isn't in the blog at all anymore but I wanted to say hi. I dont want to delete the thing entirely because it's a record of a lot of stuff for me, my feelings about when he was on the road and other things.

home

We are home from a most wondrous vacation. I want to do a google mapping of all the places we went, but that's going to have to happen another time. It really was a thing of beauty, though, and I am thrilled we were able to take the trip together. Especially since he's going to be off on the road again soon.

I came home to some unrest as it seems the trickle down effect has hit home. I guess I can say that things are fine and things are not fine. But I am hoping for the best. Hooray for this economy, eh?

mardi gras

It's Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, or, if you're from specific places in the midwest, Paczki Day. If you're Polish, then I believe Paczki Day is actually on Thursday in Poland, but we American Midwesterners celebrate it on Tuesday for convenience. I hate donuts, but every year that I lived in Michigan I ate one of those devilish Paczkis, probably because it's tradition. If you didn't know, we Catholics are pretty big on tradition.

Which is what I think about year after year, every time Lent hits.

Everyone knows that practicing Catholics don't eat meat on Fridays during Lent. Some people may also know that in place of meat, Catholics will eat fish on Fridays during Lent. (Fish is also a meat, but don't get me started on this "logic." I've got bigger fish to fry, pun intended).

So what I have never, ever, year-after-year understood is why Catholics believe that just because they abstain from eating meat on Friday, they MUST eat fish. If you want to abstain from eating meat, great, good for you. You could go ahead and eat any number of things. Eat yourself a big damn bowl of spaghetti if you want. But Catholics, for the most part, will go out of their way to EAT FISH on Fridays even though logic says that just because you are not eating meat, you do not have to choose to eat fish. I think nutritionists world wide have come to the conclusion that there are OTHER forms of protein and also that it's PERFECTLY ACCEPTABLE to miss a hard hitting dose of protein (i.e, the meat of an animal) one day a week. Like I said, there are tons of other forms of protein out there (in fact there is this entire thing called vegetarianism), but we Catholics just have to get our fish in on Fridays. A friend of mine worked at Long John Silver in Philadelphia (a city teeming with Catholics) as a teenager, and he about declared war on Catholics on Fridays during Lent, they would run that place rampant. It's a damned LONG JOHN SILVERS! In what possible universe is eating disgusting, greasy, unhealthy Long John Silvers a better choice that just not eating fish at all on a Friday during Lent?

This really bothers me. I've talked to my brother who is more invested in the religion than I am, and I don't think he gets my point.

Why? What it boils down to is tradition. Tradition is so ingrained in us that we just have to do it. Way back in Eighteendickety, people just started eating fish every Friday, Friday after Friday, Lent after Lent, year after year, and there you go. Tradition happened.

I guess it's fine, but I will never understand why every year I'll hear people talking about how they have to go out of their way to find fish on Friday when they could just eat, I don't know, anything else instead.

home

I can't wait to come home tonight. My flight is not until after 5, which is one thing I hate the most. Night flights on Friday mean getting home at around 8, which means some of the weekend is already wasted. But it's only a week until the big trip, and that's exciting.

way down in the hole

This was a pretty awful weekend, and I've very glad to see it go on its way.

My aunt and uncles went to Michigan this weekend to help my parents pack up my grandmother's home. I am at a loss. Such a stupid thing to say but it's true. Who knows what is next; my mother does not - understandable - want to put her into a nursing home but she needs 24 hour supervision and care. What an unfair, twisted, fucked-up fate so many elderly people face. It's despicable. I am grateful for her 80th birthday party, so grateful it brings me to tears. This was only last August, when she was a different person; and at least, I hope, she realized she's been loved. Before all of this.

I'm going to go a kick back to the eating and no-drinking Boot Camp plan for the foreseeable future. Most of my friends are pregnant these days; I'll just become a non-drinker like all of them. Maybe I'll make a few free day exceptions when we go to Vegas or stop along the way back to see some friends, but that's up for debate.

I am reading Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential and falling even more in love with him. I could go for some serious French or Italian food right now. I mean, this book is killing me.

Addition: This is my favorite quote from Kitchen Confidential, which is a very sound-bite friendly book. Bourdain is a genius. "I hold the waiters' meeting and tasting at eleven-thirty. The new waiter doesn't know what prosciutto is, and my heart sinks. I run down the specials, speaking slowly and enunciating each syllable as best I can for the slower, stupider ones" (188). God that takes me back to my days at the Country Epicure. It's the truth that I was one of the stupider ones at first, but I was only 17 when I started working there, and I like to think I learned quickly. I never forgot to put a souffle order in on time, either. It's funny how when you're 17 and a waiter, you think that the restaurant business is all about the Front of the House. This book really makes me miss my restaurant days, the godawful heaven that they were.

Up a mountain

This is basically an account of yesterday and today so far. Boring, I know, but whatever.

I wanted to write a quick thank you to Mickey before this day gets crazy. I expressed an interest in finding a new running pal, and Mickey wrote me saying he's been running around Ijams Nature Center in South Knoxville. I run there occasionally and I always enjoy the runs, but I don't like to go there alone (you know, the whole murderer/pervert/dead body in the woods fear). So I was thrilled that Mickey offered the invitation and off I went to meet him last night after work. I told him that I had been worked pretty hard at camp that morning so I was sorry in advance for being slower than usual. He said that he'd been "running the hills" around the quarry, and I was excited about these hills, picturing a few Lakeshore Park sized ones and maybe something comparable to the beast that is Walnut Street, coming North from Neyland up into downtown. Um, no. Mickey had me running up a damned mountain. I was not prepared, and it kicked my ass. Even if I had not had an awesome Boot Camp workout yesterday morning, it still would have kicked my ass. But it was fun, and Mickey was patient with me. After the mountain, we did a nice loop along the river and some trails and I managed to recover for the most part. Thanks for the good, ass kicking run, Mickey. I hope to do it again. Next time I will be more prepared for that beast.

Last night's 30 Rock was the funniest shit I have seen in a long time, and I went to bed afterward knowing I had to get up for Boot Camp (and anticipating some sore legs). It was so very fun to wake up to my smoke alarm going off every 30 seconds (like how they do to let you know the batteries are low). Too bad my ceiling is like 15 feet high, and I can't possibly reach the smoke detectors, even if I had a ladder. So I had to wear Scott's ear plugs (hey, when homeless people are your very loud neighbors, you've got to innovate). The problem is that I hate earplugs. They make me claustrophobic. I know; it's weird. So I didn't sleep at all from about 2 until 5, when I had to get ready for camp.

Needless to say I was exhausted after camp so I came home and took an hour nap before coming into work. I very rarely do this because I like to make use of my mornings, but today I could not resist. And it was possibly the greatest nap I have ever taken in my life. And I have good bed head now.

Finally, I opened my fridge to find that I am out of my standard breakfast yogurt. I was bummed but then I remembered lunch yesterday! Occasionally when we are out at our editors on Church Street, we'll stop in at the French Market to get carry out to bring back to Depot Street. I did this yesterday, and I was there rather early, so I was the only one there at the time and got to have a nice conversation with the owners while they made our lunches. I ordered the special for the day, which was a most delicious crepe with roasted chicken, tomatoes and spinach. I got it with light cheese and buckwheat batter, so it was actually healthy too. My coworkers both had baguette sandwiches, which are also delicious. I asked them how their recently added breakfast service as going and they said it was going well. Then they made me a cup sized sample of their cold breakfast oatmeal to try. I was a genius to save it, and that's what I had for breakfast this morning. And it's awesome. I will be going back to have it again. I love those people at the French Market and their delicious food. I am so glad they joined the downtown scene.

And that's all I have to say about that.

I list for J

Jennifer and I used to make love lists when things got really hairy. They're a way to throw some good thoughts out into the world, which the world needs. I believe that. Here goes:

I love Vernors. I really do. It is the most superior pop. And it's from Detroit, which I also love.

I love this time of year at Boot Camp, when it's warm(er) and windy. When the stars are bright up above our heads during sit-ups or plank. It's the time of year, too, when the sun starts to come up just as camp is ending; and there's something breathtaking about seeing the stars disappear, the dark disperse, and the sun and the clouds make their entrance for the day.

I love that my friend Jason listens to my idiotic complaints even though he is much more even tempered than I am. He listens or laughs along with me, and most of the time he has pretty good advice even if he doesnt realize it.

I love "The Crane Wife 1 & 2" by The Decemberists. It is still one of my favorite songs to run to or listen to as I am falling asleep.

I love black Sharpees.

I still love living downtown, even though the homelessness is out of control this year more than ever and the crime is getting worse, too. I do not love to drive, so downtown life is good for me, walking to the dry cleaner or to a movie. I do not love that I had a ticket on my car this morning at 8:15 when I left for work. Even though the meters are supposed to begin at 8, everyone knows the cops dont ticket until 9. Jerk cop got it all wrong this morning. But I DO love that my office is so close to my house I could walk and I only move my car so I dont get ticketed (today is an exception).

I love having coffee most mornings with my friends after Boot Camp. Even if we are freezing, soaking wet or muddy and covered in grass, the Starbucks crew is always very accommodating of us and we can take a half hour or so to laugh and catch up.

I love calling my dad's office and talking to Judy for a few seconds before she transfers me to him.

And I love a Vernor's Boston Cooler. I cant have them too often, but on the occasional free day, they are a delicious treat.

I love getting my eyebrows waxed. I go to Heather regularly, and she makes my brows awesome. I have been seeing her steady for over a year, and I cannot believe I never had a regular brow person before that. It makes the biggest difference, going to the same person on a regular basis.

I love the song "Barnacles" by Ugly Casanova. I have a very vivid memory of driving windy roads through Hot Springs, NC on a beautiful spring day with Scott, listening to this song.

whistle down the wind

The coming of spring always makes me a little sad, which I fully admit is unusual since crisp weather usually generates a buzz of happiness and excitement. I think it comes down to wanting to enjoy the weather and knowing I am stuck inside at work for the better part of most days. It doesnt seem fair. There's more, too, but I cant put a name to it.

Lately a lot of things dont seem fair, and I think everything is coming to a head.

My grandmother is worse and worse. And my mother is stressed and more stressed. And I dont know what to say about it. I get emails or phone calls from my mother and I just feel so helpless about the situation.

I cant seem to get back into a routine after the holiday, and it's already mid-February. Due to a few shifts at work, I've already been traveling a lot more this year than I did last year (if it's possible), and so I'll go to Boot Camp for a week, miss for a week, go back for a week and so on. And it always seems like I am home for the four day weeks and away for the better five day weeks. Some of it's my fault, but with the disjointed schedule, my motivation when I am home is out the window. Two steps forward, 80 steps back. We're about to go to the beach and the last thing I want to do is buy a new bathing suit. This is a terrible day waiting to happen, I know.

Of my two favorite running buddies, one is pregnant and the other has a bum foot, so I'm on my own. I actually prefer to run "alone," but with someone. It's safer on some of the greenways and downtown streets in Knoxville. I need to hire a 7 minute mile pacer, so that I don't do one of two things: start out too fast and then die 2.5 miles in, or stay in within the safety of the 8 minute mile, thus not really pushing myself like I need to. (I would make my mile pacer carry a flag like they do for marathons. Why? It's cute).

And then there are student loans. And I just want to pack it up and go somewhere else but this $400.00 monthly must keeps me tied here. Maybe my own fear, too, but dont I always say the same old thing?

It's a beautiful day and I should be happy. I wore a sweatshirt on my run last night and I was overheating with every step. It's tee shirt weather, a good time for a run across the Gay Street bridge with the wind and the water and the knowledge of all those footsteps that came before.