In Memoriam - Karen Flaschar

Throughout my life, music has always given me "the tingles" down my spine. It makes me feel the power of something greater than an individual, and no song has done that more frequently and consistently than this one. Flasch, this will always be your song in my mind. Today, for the last time, your choir, years and years of students, came together to sing it one more time. You've changed so many lives, and you will be missed.

The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord lift his countenance upon you and give you peace. The Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious unto you. The Lord be gracious, gracious unto you.

Sometimes standing in someone's shadow isn't a bad thing

As a teenager, all I wanted to do was escape from my brother's shadow. To this day, whenever I run into someone who I went to high school with that is a few years older than me, I always ask if they knew my brother. And, they always do. My brother was cool; he was smart; he was popular. Teachers loved him (or hated him, but either way they remembered him); he was on the pep squad; he threw keg parties every Friday night; he got in to Princeton; his friends were beautiful; . It was a big shadow.

I somehow managed to be as close to the opposite as him as was possible without being a dumbass. Instead of sports, I was into the arts. Instead of hanging with the cool kids, I got cozy with the Goths. I blended into the crowd. I excelled at the things I was good at and ignored everything else.

Since then, I've moved on quite a bit. Somehow in the intervening years, my brother and I have become more and more similar. Similar patterns through college and law school (although at very different schools for both). Along the way, I've consistently turned to him for advice. He's helped with choosing where to study abroad, taking the LSAT, studying for law school exams, interviewing for summer associate positions, applying for clerkships, and now he's helping me with my post-clerkship job search. Through all of this, his advice has been invaluable. He gave me 1L outlines to teach me to outline and looked over my resume.

Last week he discovered that he had made partner at the law firm he's been working at. Its fantastic news, and we are all very excited. I'm just about to start my legal career and he is settling into his. I've become envious of the life (particularly the family) that he has, and I've come to realize that its pretty great to have someone breaking the trail in front of you, even if that sometimes means standing in their shadow.

Mary Poppins

On the subject of television, we recently DVRed Mary Poppins, and last night I watched a good portion of it. I had forgotten how lovely this movie really is. As a child, I was an obsessive movie watcher. My three main movies (pretty much every weekend) were The Parent Trap (original Haley Mills version), Swiss Family Robinson, and The Sound of Music. Occasionally, I would throw in Babes in Toyland or Alice in Wonderland (both of those movies totally freaked me out - and to this day I'm not entirely sure why). On even rarer occasions I would watch Mary Poppins (I think this movie got lost for a while and that might explain why it didn't make it into the regular rotation).

There is nothing like the sound of Julie Andrew's voice to bring me back to childhood though. Like her character in Mary Poppins, to me she seemed to be "practically perfect in every way." Just listening to her speak makes me smile (while I'm typing this, I'm thinking how amazing it is that I've never seen the Princess Diaries movies). I think Julie Andrew's voice is what made me want to sing. No one has quite the same lilt or diction. But Julie's voice alone isn't what makes her so special in the movie. Its her facial expressions and timing and the combination with Dick Van Dyke. I had forgotten how magical the whole movie is. I think I'm going to have to buy it for my niece and nephew.

Television

My addiction to television over the past couple of years has rapidly grown. My first year of law school, my home was a complete telecommunications desert. I didn't have a phone line or cable or internet (thank god for the Panera a block away with free Wi-Fi). I spent the majority of my time at my boyfriend's apartment so this wasn't so terrible. The lack of basic entertainment items didn't really alter my perception of that apartment much as it was a complete roach infested sink hole - so nothing could make it seem much worse.

For my second two years of law school, I sucked it up and paid for high speed internet, but refused to pay for cable. I accepted life with bad rabbit ears and only 4 stations at any given time (I could get either Fox or ABC, but not both). I learned to love the wonders of Antiques Roadshow, This Old House, and the News Hour with Jim Lehrer because PBS was the station that came in the strongest. I hardly ever thought about the fact that I was missing cultural phenomenon like The Hills or Project Runway. I was content with my Netflix subscription and my PBS.

Last year, I moved into a house that already had cable, and I quickly resumed old habits from college - watching reruns of Charmed in the morning as I ate my breakfast, making it home on Wednesday nights for whatever show was currently competing for attention on Bravo. I got to know the Girls Next Door (and I was embarrassed by our relationship). I knew I could watch Law and Order at practically any time of day or night.

Still, this was not enough for me. A couple months ago. My roommate and I got a DVR. This wonderful device has changed my tv watching experience. No longer do I even consider the television schedule when making plans. Most evenings after work, I come home to the comfort of that day's rerun episode of Gilmore Girls. I don't have to wait for commercials.

And now, because my cable bundle was expiring, I just upgraded. My father had taught me well - whenever you get the higher bill, you call the cable company, tell them that you see that your deal has expired and ask what they can offer you now. Normally, my dad doesn't get the help he wants until he gets transferred to the disconnect people who will do whatever they can to keep your patronage. Today, with a half an hour of my time, I managed to secure myself a new deal. For approximately $8 more than I was previously paying, I have a new deal - faster internet and HBO. The price tag for cable keeps going up, but I can't seem to stop myself. I'm just getting myself in deeper and deeper. Its scary where an addiction will lead you...

I've been thinking...

Lately a number of blog posts have been floating around in my head. Unlike some of the posts that have been written and deleted, there was nothing wrong with the posts floating in my head. They weren't offensive. I didn't feel like I had to censor myself. No, I just never got around to actually writing them down. My mind has had time to think about things, but the thoughts never quite crystallized and my hands didn't fly over the keys.

I was going to write about the book Eat, Pray, Love, but I just read somebody else's blog post on the subject, and I'm not sure I have much to add. I was listening to commentary during On Point on NPR recently, and the book also came up there. I was surprised that the commentators hadn't read it. (I know I just said I wasn't going to add anything, but now I think I have to add my two cents). I enjoyed the book. It made me examine my own belief systems, the value of my life, where I'm headed and where I want to be headed. It made me think. But, I didn't love it.

The first two sections of the book are very strong. While I don't share much of a common experience with Ms. Gilbert, I empathized with her. I was jealous of her travels in Italy and was intrigued by her spiritual voyage in India. I wished I felt I had the ability to take a year off for self discovery. I wished I could spend days and weeks glutinously devouring food and thought and feel good about myself. Still, I did not find her time in Indonesia to be as compelling. She seemed to boring and normal in Indonesia. While she attempted to portray herself as something more than the average tourist or ex pat in Indonesia, I didn't quite believe this portrayal. She calls her Indonesian stay the "balance" portion of her trip, but I had difficulty seeing how it had anything to do with balance. Maybe I just didn't understand it, but that seemed to be the weakest part of the book.

I wonder if part of my disconnect was also a wonder about Ms. Gilbert. How did she become the person her book portrays? What was so broken about her marriage? Why did she leave that marriage to be with a man who did not have the emotional ability to make her happy? Has she actually dealt with her problems, or is she merely masking them in a cloud of self love? While these questions are ultimately irrelevant in my enjoyment of the book, they remain in my thoughts. I read the book on the recommendation of a friend. He had talked to me a bit about my depression and my lapsed faith and felt it could be good for me. While I think that some of the messages of the book did speak to me, I do wonder if perhaps he and others believe that we should regard Ms. Gilbert as a model. Based upon what I know of her, I'm not convinced that she would make a good model for me.

Anyway - that's a random smattering of thought on something I really know nothing about. I'm not a book critic - I just a girl who reads a lot.

traveling

I'm not a good traveler. This isn't really news; I've never been a good traveler. Flying makes me feel sick. I get nervous that I'm going to miss my plane, but if I get there too early I get bored from waiting too long in the airport. I don't like airport food, but I always eat way too many calories anyway (stupid Swedish fish).

Anyway, last weekend I flew to DC for a baby shower and to visit a law school friend. The flying was actually remarkable good. I had direct flights at good times. I dressed well - wasn't too hot or too cold on the plane. I wasn't seated next to someone who smelled like a bar (ug, my last trip involved this at 8 am and even though I wasn't the one who was hungover, I wanted to throw up).

The interesting moment this time actually came on my way back to my apartment - riding the metrolink. The airport here is an endpoint for our public transit system, so it waits a while on the tracks at the airport. As I'm sitting there reading my book, I notice this guy. He gets on the train, sets down two large bags, and leaves. Doesn't just move a couple seats from his bags, doesn't go to talk to somebody, doesn't go help someone else get their stuff on the train. Just, leaves. No one else seems to notice.

This is when I discover that if someone wanted to have a terrorist attack near me (or apparently those other people as well), they could easily do it. Even though I am well aware of the signs in the train that say, "please notify personnel if you see bags left unattended" especially at the airport where they are saying that every five minutes, I didn't report those bags. I didn't want to cause any trouble. Instead, what I did was calmly get up and move to the other end of the train. I decided that if the guy didn't come back before the train left the station, I would press the help button. Luckily a few minutes later, the guy did come back and sit with his stuff so my freaking out a little bit was for nothing. Still - part of me worries - what if he had intended to blow up the train. Certainly no one would have done anything.

doll

So, this story isn't really mine to tell, but I felt the need to share.

One of my friends works at a major national law firm. She's a second year associate. A few days ago, a client she worked with was at the firm finalizing a settlement. She wanted to say hi and mentioned it to a junior partner. Right at that time, the client (a 35ish year old man) came out of the office, saw my friend, and said, "hey doll." So didn't really know how to respond to that, but justsort of smiled and said hi.

Later, in passing, she mentioned it to the junior partner in a non-complaining type way, but still making it clear that she didn't know what was up with that. He had noticed the "doll" comment, but told her he thought she had "that kind of a relationship with the client." He thought she had encouraged that kind of familiarity.

What's up with that. I mean, from an older client that might not be quite so weird, but from a young guy? How could he think it was okay to call his lawyer "doll?"

Its a bad year for boots

I had a sad experience at nordstroms last night. As some of you may know, the half yearly sale started yesterday. I love the half yearly sale - its a great way to get good shoes and clothes at reduced prices, all with nordstroms service. Plus, nordstroms has a fantastic collection of shoes. But, this year it left something to be desired.

I went to the store last night with a specific goal in mind. I'm over pointy toed boots. I have big feet and pointed toed things just make big feet look bigger. Specifically, what I wanted was a nice pair of rounded toe (or square toe if cute) black ankle/mid calf boots with a moderate and attractive heel. Something that looks good under pants, and isn't too uncomfortable. I found nothing.

The pickings were slim on the not knee high boots, and man, they were all either pointy toed or really ugly. After finding absolutely nothing in the sale section, I ventured into the rest of the shoe department, but my luck was little better. I did find one acceptable pair, but I'm tough on shoes. I tend to get the heel caught in sidewalk cracks so I'm much better off with a stacked heel than with a leather covered heel. The one pair I found that I didn't love, but might well buy, have a leather covered heel. Why is shoe shopping so difficult.

(oh and I am totally against flat boots - they make me look short and fat and I'm not ok with that).

3 for Friday

Friday night was eventful...and I have three unrelated things to report so here we go:
L fucking L

On Friday night we were supposed to go to this new wine bar. When we got to the wine bar, we discovered that there was a two hour wait to be seated. There was no way that anyone I was with would be willing to wait for two hours for food and wine (at 7:30 at night) so we left. We agreed to go to another bar that was "just down the street": Llywellyn's - but I didn't know how to spell it at the time. Now, none of us knew how to get there, but we had a general idea. After driving for a little bit and being completely unable to find it, I decided to call 411. The conversation went something like this:

411 woman: What city and state please?
Me: Webster Groves, Missouri
411: What city and state?
Me: WEBSTER GROVES, MISSOURI
411: I'm sorry, what city and state?
Me: WEBSTER GROVES, MISSOURI!!
411: Alright, thanks, how can I help you?
Me: Yeah, I'd like the address for a restaurant called Llywellyn's. Its L L something...
411: What kind of a restaurant is it?
Me: Um, a bar restaurant?
Car load of Girls: ITS A BAR!!
Me: Um, its a Welsh pub.
411: How do you spell that?
Me: UM... L L...um
Car load of girls: L fucking L!!
Me: L L E...um, I don't know
Car load of girls: L fucking L! How many restaurants start with L fucking L?
411: Can you tell me what street it is on?
Me: No,if I knew what street it is on, I wouldn't be calling you.
411: um...Right
Me: I'm sorry, you're not really helping me. I'm gonna hang up now.

Random Meeting

I haven't seen my ex, the last guy I was in love with, for over two years. I haven't spoken to him or called him or emailed him. The closest I've come to having contact with him was having one of my co-clerks tell me she had judged a law school competition with him and thought he was cute and that I should date him (she had NO idea that we had a history) and my other co-clerk dealing with him on an appointed case and her finding out that he was engaged. I almost never think of him.

On friday, I walked into the bar and suddenly there he was, coming over to say "hi." It was awkward and weird. I'm glad he came over cause ignoring each other would have been terrible, but it just made me feel off all night long. So strange too. When I asked him what was new with him, he didn't tell me he was married, even though he was clearly there with his new wife. The one thing this drove home to me was that it is really time to remove his name from my cell phone. I hadn't even realized he was still the phone book until I was scrolling through later that night...Its time to let go of that one.

A diagnosis
Finally, I have some explanation for what is going on with my arm, and it came from an odd source. This weekend one of my roommates best friends visited us from Chicago. I hadn't previously realized it, but it turns out she is an occupational therapist with a specialization in hands, wrists, and elbows. When she heard my problem as we sat in that bar on Friday night, she couldn't help but ask, "do you mind if i take a look at it?" I couldn't have minded less and was excited to hear what she had to say.

Finally, someone explained in terms that I could understand what is holding me back. It seems that my doctor telling me that "you're really tight" actually has a logical meaning. The thing that connects my bones together in my arm is super tight, tighter than it is supposed to be, and that's a big part of what is keeping me from getting my supination back. Apparently, the bones need some room to move in order to be able to turn properly. Talking to Rose made me feel so much better about the future of my elbow.

dining out

In an effort to move on from my recent funk, I'm going to write about the other thing that is mildly interesting in my life. I dine out a lot - at least 3 days a week. I've been to the vast majority of "fine" dining restaurants in St. Louis (well, except Tony's, but honestly, I hear its not worth the hype).

Anyway, on Monday night I tried a place that's relatively new for the first time - Sage. I think my expectations were overly high because one of my top five ever restaurant experiences was at a different restaurant named after an herb
(Thyme in Chicago). Sage a nice little restaurant, located across the street from the AB brewery in Soulard. The atmosphere is relatively nice, although its a little too bright for in there for me and I can't really agree with the decision to have a TV in the dining room of a restaurant that charges $20 an entree. Its not like they don't have a separate bar area. The nicest element of the decor/atmosphere, in my opinion, is the stonework. It makes it very earthy (something that the metal chairs detract from - why not go with wood when you are doing an earth tone restaurant).

Moving on to the food - I order the spinach salad. The greens were fresh and it wasn't overdressed. The bite of the sundried tomatoes were a great contrast to the dressing and the salty-sweet pretzel croutons made a nice "local" touch (they were made with pretzels from a local pretzel maker). All around a good way to start the meal.

The entree was a disappointment. When I order seafood at a restaurant, I have high expectations - fish should not have bones and shellfish should not have shell. Getting a half peeled shrimp grossed me out. I have no objection to peel and eat shrimp, or fried shrimp with the tail on, but when its clear that the shrimp were meant to be peeled (umm...all the rest of them were), I do not want to have to either pass on the shrimp or get my fingers all saucy to take the tail and legs off my dinner. Plus then you have tail and legs still sitting on your plate. I felt bad about mentioning it to the waitress (did not expect to get anything free, but if I worked in a kitchen at a new restaurant its the kind of thing I would want to know). She appologized and gave us free desserts, but it left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth. I'd go back to the restaurant, but probably will not order that otherwise tasteless pasta again. The pasta really was pretty uninteresting - I was expecting more seafood and its texture was a huge letdown. It was just very mushy and bland - fine for oatmeal,not so great for pasta.

The desserts were more interesting. They come in little shot glasses, and you can take them right off the waitress's tray. We order the key lime pie, the pumpkin, and a brownie thing. The pumpkin was by far the best, but it didn't really meet its description - described as a pumpkin gooey butter cake but there was nothing resembling gooey butter cake in it (gooey butter cake is a weird St. Louis thing that most resembles extra buttery under cooked sugar cookies). The brownie was a bit dry, and the key lime pie was almost inedible. The first taste was yummy and good - the smooth creamy sweetness you expect from key lime pie, but then immediately after that first taste there was an explosion of sour, as though it was lacking the right amount of sugar or too much lime juice had been added.

Anyway, while I wasn't impressed with this place, I'll probably go back. We had heard that the sandwiches were good and they are more reasonably priced.

We can work it out...

My funk continues. When people ask me how I'm doing, how the elbow is, my standard answer is "fine" and I really mean that. Its not bad; its not good; I'm not bad; I'm not good. I'm "fine." Fine as in, it could be worse - I could be unable to do my chosen career as a result of my injuries - like a doctor or an artist or a chef. So what if I can't knit or do needlepoint or take kick boxing classes or go rock climbing or eat with chop sticks (I think its that last one that makes me cry the most - strange isn't it).

I've come to realize that I'll probably never eat or run or even wave goodbye to a friend like a normal person again. I'm frustrated, and I'm angry, and I'm scared. Its not getting better, and in some ways, its getting worse. My wrist hurts; it pops when I turn it and now sometimes the physical therapy for my elbow makes me have sharp pain in my wrist. I'm convinced that my wrist is trying to make up for what my elbow can no longer do. The last two fingers on the hand have started to hurt - its a GREAT new development. At the same time, the screws under my skin itch. Its a constant annoyance.

I know I shouldn't be so angry and upset about this. I could have so many worse problems. Still, it feels like my life was turned upside down on a hot sunny Sunday in August. I hadn't even planned to go riding that day, but I needed to take my mind off the boy I was seeing that evening. Yay, I really managed to take my mind off him.

I think I'm most frustrated right now because I have so many unanswered questions. Should it be acting this way? Why isn't it making any improvements? Why is it making those popping feelings? What's physically keeping it from turning? Is my wrist alright?

Sorry I'm such a downer lately. This is harder for me than I even expected it to be.

Leaving the comfort zone

Last night at about 3:40 a.m. (I know that because I got a text message then that woke me up and got me thinking), I made a decision about my future. I decided that I can't stay in St. Louis next year, that I have to see if I can make it in Chicago or D.C. or someplace else.

I've wanted to stay in St. Louis because its comfortable. I know my way around here - I know where to find the good grocery store, the quick post office, the best sushi. I've got some good friends here, and I can happily drive my little car to work every day, never having to interact with anyone. Yet, when I go out on dates with people who have never left Missouri, never experienced living anywhere else, I am immediately bored. I judge those people, and in that same way, I judge myself. Why not at least try "making it" in a big city? Its not like Chicago would be that big of a risk - my family is there, I have friends there from law school, I kind of know my way around already. I can get advice as to which law firms treat their associates like slaves and which ones respect a work/life balance.

And then there is the money. After talking to my friends here regarding the amount they work, I'm more and more convinced that the hours are little different from midsized firms in Chicago, but the pay - well, that's very different. Since Chicago firms would count my clerkship as credit toward pay and partnership, I would come in as a third year associate up there. Also, I would get a clerkship bonus which these days is not something to sneeze at (down payment on a condo). In St. Louis - I get jack. Plus, the firm I previously worked at is likely merging with another firm to become a mega-firm (600+ attorneys), I don't see how this could possibly be a better "work environment" than most Chicago firms.

So, that was my thought process in the middle of the night. Does it still make sense in the light of day? Possibly, no probably. Now, I just need to take some action.

a good ache

My legs hurt and so do my abs. I tossed and turned all night because in every position, I was just a little uncomfortable. I was exhausted and yet I felt more alive than I have in months. No, I didn't break my dry spell - I went running.

My doctor finally gave me approval to do everything I can do (meaning, if my arm physically can do something, I'm allowed to do it) on Thursday last week. My gym at work is closed for remodeling so I have to run outside, and I had to deal with my landlord on Thursday after work and I had to work late on Friday night. So, yesterday was the first chance I've had. It was both wonderful and miserable. It was a grey cool day and on the second half of the run, I was running in the rain. It was wonderful because there is nothing like running - feeling like I am really working myself hard, getting the head nod from other runners (amazing how ignored I felt when I was walking the same path with a giant arm splint), feeling my skin flush, going from slightly chilled to overheated. I love the feeling. Still, parts of that run were miserable - I hate running in the rain (generally I avoid it at all costs) and this time I didn't even have a hat so I was getting rain in my eyes, I had forgotten how sore my legs and butt get when I haven't run in a long time. Its a good ache, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

To update you on the arm, I'm really beginning to get scared even though the doctor and my physical therapist have told me "I'm not giving up on you yet.' See, while those words are encouraging, they are also frightening - might someone want to give up on me now? My supination is terrible and my therapist is now allowed to touch me. She's doing one of the most aggressive types of physical therapy on me "level 4s" or some such - takes me to the point of pain and then stays there with a slight pulsing. Also, the hardware is pretty close to my skin - if you touch my elbow you can feel the pin heads - um...neat huh...

On a note of life getting back to normal - I am again a terrible dish doer, even with a dishwasher. Today, we were out of bowls and spoons. I did finish loading the dishwasher and turn it on, but I ate my breakfast cereal out of a decorative dip bowl with a plastic spoon - yeah, and I think I'm a grownup...

If your going through hell...

So, I lied.

Have you ever had one of those days where you can't decide whether you want to vomit or cry because you are just so angry and frustrated,where every light seems to be red, where you realize that you messed up,but its not really your fault, where a stupid electronic recording caused all your problems? Yeah, that's my day today. Gahh...now time to eat something to settle my stomach, and possibly grab a box of tissues.

blah

These past couple of months have been difficult for me. I've had a lot of difficulty with the little things - going for weeks without being able to shower, being forbidden to workout in any meaningful way, not being able to wear sleeves, not being able to put my hair in a ponytail (and remember I couldn't shower). All minor annoyances that have added up to a very moody and unhappy Megan. Wearing an arm brace has made me feel like a bit of a socialfreak. My parents worry about me for no reason (mom freaked out when she couldn't reach me one day, thinking that I had been in a car accident or something - and those of you who know me, know that I rarely answer my phone).

Now, my arms has begun to heal, and I really hope that I will get all of my abilities back - that this time next year I'll be able to do everything I could do before. Still, I'm beginning to freak out a little. The suplanation and pronation aren't improving at all. It makes me worry that maybe they never will - I know its concerning my physical therapist as well, but she keeps telling me not to worry yet. I'm hopeful, but afraid.

On the life front, I'm afraid that I'm becoming a bad friend to one of my good friends here. I don't want to go out with her because I just can't hear about her ex-bf any more. Its been over two months since they broke up, and hearing her agonize continuously over an ass who she can clearly do better than is driving me a bit daft.

Not to mention the fact that I let my heart get involved with someone I knew better than to care about. When will I learn to trust my instincts about people and not trust them until they have given me a reason to trust. Plus then there's the weight gain that has come with sitting on my butt instead of working out 5+ days a week. I'm working on it, but right now I feel fat and unattractive and freak like. I guess I've had better self-esteem days.

So, yeah, that's generally how I'm doing. I'll try to be more positive the next time I post, I promise.

update

Today, I had my "see" appointment following my week of "waiting." Unfortunately, the news is not good. They took two sets of ex rays, one set with the splint and one set without. The set without was incredibly painful again because they needed me to twist my elbow "to the point that I could endure." That's not really a phrase that you want to hear from a doctor, and so I'm back on the narcotics for the first time since Wednesday night. So yeah, the bone fragments had moved, and not in a good way. My doc got this really concerned look as he examined the ex rays, and then called in one of his partners to consult. She's a nationally renowned elbow surgeon, and she took one look and said this needs surgery.

In that moment I got myself a new doctor. She scheduled me for surgery next Monday. They are hoping to only have screw the bone back together and not have to give me a replacement tip. If they can screw it in, then it will be an outpatient procedure, if not I might get to enjoy the wonderful hospitality of Barnes. They say I'll be taking at least a week off of work afterward, can plan on another two weeks in the splint (until surgery and a week after surgery), and it will be at least 3 months post surgery before I'm back to normal.

The good news/bad news is that I am approved to ride the recumbent bike and only the recumbent bike at the gym for the near future. The doc doesn't want me doing anything where I could trip and fall until probably 6 weeks post-op so no running, walking, elliptical or real bike for quite a long time. Being inactive this week has driven me NUTS! As you all know, I'm a very active person. Being slothful has made me moody and depressed. Not only am I concerned about gaining weight because I'm not working out six days a week, but I can't handle the moodiness. I need my endorphins hit!

I'll keep you all updated.

Always wear clean underware, you never know when you will have to go to the emergency room

and you really don't want to go to the ER when you aren't wearing any at all. On Sunday afternoon, I had my first bike crash. I got distracted, was slightly off course, overcompensated and panicked causing a crash. I landed on my face and elbow. Oddly enough, I hadn't been listening to my ipod (i almost always do when biking) and I hadn't brought my cell phone (I always do). Luckily, "Brother Tim" came along (God was watching out for me), asked me if I was alright and then called 911. He stayed with me in the 100 degree heat while we waited for the ambulance to find us. He got me to sit in the shade and fed me water as I moaned and cursed under my breathe (I'm still feeling bad about all the "god damnits" he had to hear.

10 hours later, I left the hospital with a "fractured radial head" (broken elbow), high on morphine, with a cast, sling and prescription for Oxycontin. The hospital staff was fantastic (I feel terrible for screaming during the ex rays and needing to be held down) even if they couldn't decide if I needed surgery so kept me there hungry and thirsty extra long. After seeing a specialist today, I know its "s really bad fracture" and we are taking a wait and see approach. He's not sure that he can help me with surgery, but he knows he can make it worse. So it looks like no running, biking or rock climbing for me for at least a couple months.

Typing is difficult cause I can only use my left hand so i may not write much for the next couple months. Just thought you all would want to know what's up.

blisters and bikini waxes

Its amazing what we women put up with for the sake of beauty. Right now, my big complaints are blisters and bikini waxes.

On Saturday night, I went out with some friends to party like rock stars as part of a bachelorette party. I didn't manage the rock star part so well because of my g-d shoes. The traffic downtown was terrible because of the Cardinals game, so I ended up parking my car on the street (ok, so I drove and I wasn't planning on partying too much anyway, but regardless this blister sucks) about 10 blocks from the bar (maybe further). One of the girls in my car, desperately had to pee so we basically ran all the way to the bar. When I got there my foot hurt - running 8 blocks in strappy silver stilettos is not a good idea. I looked hot, but it hurt to stand, move, be. A humongous blister had already both formed and popped. I ended up taking a cab back to my car (um, yeah, really couldn't walk that far and I was leaving alone and that's just not safe) earlier than I would have like (stayed out till 12:30ish).

The next day, my blister killed me as I put on my climbing shoes, but then it was ok. I tried those super blister bandaids, but even those won't stay on cause of the location of this particular blister. I can't wear strappy heals, and even my full on shoes hurt terrible. Those strappy silver stilettos were not worth this much pain. Now, I can't even go running, but not cause of a running blister, no...cause of stupid cute shoes.

Tonight I'm getting a bikini wax. Its been months for me, and I sort of feel like I'm gonna have to apologize to the waxer for not coming in sooner. Its gonna hurt like hell, but again its all of beauty. Why is this our societies standard that a girl has got to groom down there? What's up with that? I suppose I could fight it, but like shaving my legs, ultimately it makes me more comfortable. I know I'll enjoy long bike rides far more post wax than I would right now...but that doesn't mean I enjoy the process. Ug.

athletic and fit

I know I don't have the body type of your typical "athletic and fit" person, but I have to admit I'm always a little surprised at the reaction of fitness people to my abilities (although in all cases its not the trainers who are surprised, but the person at the front desk). Recently I experienced this twice (not to mention the guy I wanted to slap when I joined 24 hour fitness last year who kept saying "when you start a fitness routine..." - screw yourself buddy, I work out at least 5 days a week; I ain't just starting nothing).

A couple weeks ago, I decided to go to my first boxing class at this gym that does exclusively boxing. While I'd never done boxing or kickboxing before, my friend who trained with me for much of the half marathon invited me cause she knew the instructor and thought I would really enjoy it. I did love the class; it was hard, and my entire core hurt for two days, but it was completely manageable for me. What I particularly enjoyed was the guy at the front desk though. When I walk in saying I want to do the class, he looks at me and asks, "Well, what's your fitness level? You need to be really in shape for that class." I respond that I work out about five days a week. He still looks sceptical until I mention the fact that I ran the half marathon in April - then he responds with "well, then you should be fine." I love the scepticism.

Last night I went to a different gym on a free five day pass to take a kickboxing class with the same teacher. I'm thinking of joining this other gym cause it offers a bunch of class (kickboxing, dance, spinning, yoga, Pilate's) that are all included in the membership. The only problem is the gym is SUPER expensive, and I don't need to add to my monthly payments right now. The class went great, I learned proper kicking technique, and sweated so much that it got in my eyes, but again I found the front desk person funny. Afterward, I was talking to the membership lady when the class's instructor came up to talk to me about it - congratulating me on jumping right in to that class. The membership lady had just finished describing the classes and mentioned the number system and how the higher numbers were hard and I might not want to jump right in to those. When she heard the instructor's complements, she then said, well, if you can jump right into that class, you can pretty much handle anything we've got.

Just makes me wonder - do fitness people (not trainers - people who work at gyms) expect that the only fit people are the ultra thin muscular kind? Am I judged as fat, lazy, and unfit just because I carry an extra ten pounds around? I also think its funny that actual trainers never seem surprised by my abilities. They don't start me too easy, but push me ahead. They never tell me they don't think I can handle their class, they just smile invitingly and teach me what to do. I hate that the average member of the public sees something different than the truth - I am athletic and fit, even if I don't look like it!

disconnect

Until recently, reading an article like this one wouldn't even have crossed my mind. I've always been one of those disconnected people. No one in my family has ever served in the military (my father had a job deferment in Vietnam and I'm still unclear about my grandfather and WWII - I think I was told something about flat feet), and it generally hasn't been something that felt relevant to my daily life. Just last week, I actually had a conversation with one of my friends about my lack of understanding. Even after my changing perspective, I stand by what I said to my friend - I still can't comprehend people who join the military to pay for college. Its too hard and its not enough money. I stand by my belief that I can only really understand joining the military for more - for a love of country, for a belief that its something that you have to do, to become the person you want to be.

I don't think money alone should ever be the enticement to join, and yet, it seems so often that must be a driving force. Why else would the vast majority of people who are enlisting be from lower class families? Why the class distinction? Are poorer people more patriotic or do they just have less options? Its difficult for me to understand how a 15K signing bonus entices people to enlist/re-enlist, but I think that might be another example of my disconnect. I've got 80K in student loan debt and pay my loan provider about $500 a month. I believe that this debt is worth it, and never even considered not going to law school due to costs. But, I come from an upper-middle/upper class background. $10,000 is a lot of money to me, but not so much money that I would ever base a decision on that (as exemplified by my current job choice over the other options that I had). I can't really comprehend what it would be like for $10,000 to be enough money to change your life.

I think that's possibly just as great of a disconnect as the one talked about in that article. While I think its not healthy for our Country, that civilians like me can't even remotely relate to those serving in the military, I also think its terribly unhealthy that wealthy folks, like me, can't relate to those at the bottom of the income bracket.

:-P

I've been instructed to blog, but really I have nothing much I care to share on here going on these days. I got a letter back from the Marine boy, but I'm not sharing. Work is slow. I'm running on a treadmill two days a week cause its too hot and humid here to run outside. I'm seeing Ani DiFranco tonight at a free concert. I made cookies last night. I only ate two. That's it. That's my exciting life. Can't wait for the joy that will be reading Harry Potter tonight at midnight.

breaking up is hard to do

Don't worry, I'm not speaking of boy breaking up (although I am TERRIBLE at that as well), I'm instead speaking of a "running partner" breakup that I haven't done yet. I put "running partner" in quotes because, well, she hasn't been much of one. We have a standing agreement that I will drive over to her apartment building and meet her at 6:20 in the morning for a 40 minute run in the park, 2 days a week. This is not for my benefit. I have no trouble getting myself to workout 5 days a week (though if left to my own devices, this might involve more biking and elliptical machines in the summer and less running). The timing also isn't for my benefit - I could leave my apartment at 7:45 and still have plenty of time for a 45 minute run. I don't leave my apartment in the morning until 8:15/8:20, and I just hop in the shower and grab some breakfast post run. So, I've been getting up 40 minutes early, driving over to her place, and waiting for her to come down two days a week (unless she kindly calls or texts ahead to tell me not to meet her).

Unfortunately, I'm getting annoyed. At least one day a week, she cancels. Either by calling ahead or just not showing up when I'm waiting around outside her building (I wait until 6:30, if she's not there, I go run by myself). This week she texted ahead to cancel on Tuesday, and then just didn't show up this morning. Now, the texting or calling ahead is better than just not showing up, but still not great. I still wake up early and then have to check my phone. Even if I go back to sleep, its not the same as sleeping in until my regular wake up time (I normally end up sort of going back to sleep and then working out after work or at lunch in the gym at work). I'm annoyed, but I don't know how to end this running relationship.

At first, I tried to be understanding because I know she has a history of insomnia. If she can't fall asleep until 3 A.M., I can totally understand why she would need to sleep in as late as possible. Then she broke up with her boyfriend, this process took a couple weeks, with her staying up very very late talking to him on the phone. I tried to be understanding and didn't complain about her missing the runs, but here's the thing...I'm not that understanding, its still pissed me off. And now, I'm sure she's depressed about the breakup and still has insomnia issues, but that's not my problem.

Plus, while she is a lovely friend and I enjoy spending time with her, she doesn't help me much with my runs. She's slightly faster than me in the beginning, but then can't keep up as we hit mile 3 or so. Plus, she doesn't talk while running - she's a total headphones girl. I have no beef with running with headphones. I do it myself when I'm running alone or on a treadmill (yes, I know its not safe while running outdoors, but my love for running just isn't strong enough to allow me to do it without the benefit of music). Still, when I run with others, I try to carry on a conversation. It helps the time pass and allows me to avoid hating every playlist on my ipod. I ran the entire half marathon without music, as well as all of my long runs where I had company. So, running with her is quite a bit like running alone. I've only agreed to meet her in the morning to help motivate her and that's obviously not working.

The question is - how do I end it? I don't want to kick her while she's down, but I don't think I can put up with a couple more weeks of this.

Thanks for calling

On my birthday I got a rather unexpected phone call. The first three digits after the area code were from the same area as where I grew up, and so, I answered thinking perhaps it was someone I knew, but didn't recognize the phone number. In response to my "hello?..." I heard a rather nervous sounding woman introduce herself, "Hi, this is Sally Momwithlonglastname*. You went on a couple of dates with my son Marine boy*." Now I recognized her name immediately, and these are the immediate thoughts that popped into my head - God, I hope he's not dead or something...if he is, why the hell would she call me...ummm, why they hell is she calling me...we went out two months ago and I never heard from him again after I let him sleep over at my place...Wait...why is she calling me?

She then explained that Marine Boy had been too busy to call me before heading off to boot camp and had sent her a letter asking her to call me on his cell phone to give me his address at boot camp. She wrote back that she had turned off his cell phone and so couldn't call me with it (apparently she's not that techno savie and didn't realize that while she couldn't use the phone to dial my number, it probably still worked to turn it on and find my number in the address book, but I digress). He then wrote back telling her that he remembered that I lived across the street from a guy he went to high school with, and so, she called my neighbors who she probably hadn't spoken to since he was a sophomore in high school (he spent his last two years of high school out of state). My neighbor then called my parent's house (ummm, I don't live there anymore) and told my mom that his mom would be calling to get my phone number, that they are normal/good people, and that he's not stalking me or anything. Then his mom calls my mom, who gives her my phone number and his mom then proceeds to call me (I can't MAKE this shit up). I get his address at boot camp and then hang up. After describing this bizarro scenario to one of my co-workers, my phone rings again...its Ms. Momwithlonglastname again calling to tell me that if I write to him I should make sure not to put anything other than addresses on the outside of the envelope cause apparently that would cause Marine boy to have to do extra push ups or something at boot camp.

I ended up writing him a letter, but I didn't really know what to say. I mean, what do you say to someone who you haven't spoken to in 2 months, didn't call you after your last date, and you only went out with 2 times? I settled for describing my new apartment and the bike ride I had taken on the 4th.

When I described the whole situation to my friends at my birthday celebration, I was told what the proper response would have been - an envelope with hearts and flowers and perfume all over it with a letter inside that said, "Thanks for calling..." I don't think I could be that evil;-) My roommate has jokingly told me that if his mom went through all that trouble to reach me (and man, she really did), we are destined to get married...hmmm...I'm laughing a bit in my cubicle right now thinking about that one.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

It looks like a dude's

I've recently been told, by more than one person, that the inside of my refridgerator looks like it belongs to a guy. We have eggs, (soy) milk, two kinds of juice, a couple things of mustard, ketchup, cheese, butter, and beer that you can see when you open it up. The veggie drawer is now full of wonderful things like jicama, beets, mushroom, mixed field greens, homegrown tomatoes, and onions, but you can't really see any of that without opening the drawer. Apparently, this comment (as both speakers have indicated) was in part inspired my our near complete lack of salad dressing. I must admit, that like most girls, in the past, I had bottles and bottles of salad dressing. I had light italian, fat free raspberry vinegerette, light ranch, fat free ranch, thousand island, etc. Now, we have one lonely bottle purchased by my roommate. These days I don't buy salad dressing. For me ranch dressing is a bit of a binge food - mmm ranch on practically anything - and so I don't keep it in the house.

And oil and vineger dressings - well, those I can make myself. I'd rather make up a small batch of my special balsamic dressing than keep a big bottle of acceptable but uninteresting italian dressing ready for those occassions when I want it (ummm almost never). This morning, after chopping up a salad with jicama (a surprising favorite of mine), beets, tomatoes, and blue cheese, I mixed up a tiny container of my special dressing - hands down it beats any store bought dressing: balsamic vineger, olive oil, sugar, and whole grain mustard. That's it and its so wonderful. So, now, for lunch, I'm eating a beautifully pink tinged salad with the crunch of jicama, the odd sweetness of beets, the bright zing of balsamic balanced out by the stinky mild flavor of the blue cheese.

After an excruciating weekend, its good to be eating lunch at work today.

Cherries

For years, I loved Bing Cherries. As a child, they were my most favorite food. I thought that they were special - just for me. They only came into season for a few weeks before my birthday and then, a week or so later, like magic, they were gone. I remember sitting on the floor in front of my parent's couch watching DuckTales and eating cherry after cherry out of the thin plastic bag. I would eat until I was sick. I love the firm ripe deep red ones and would savor the sweet juice as I ate each one. I would leave even most slightly mushy cherries behind - they weren't worth my effort and ruined the wonderful perfection of the other cherries. I really loved Bing cherries.

Then, two years ago, I discovered Rainier cherries, and suddenly the Bings seemed like a cheap imitation. Everything about the Rainiers is better. They are sweeter without being too sweet; they are firmer; they are perfect even when bruised and blemished; they taste like heaven with blue cheese and honey. The only problem with them is the price. It hurts to spend $6.99 a pound for fruit, but what can you do when its true love and its only available for a few short weeks each summer?

Last winter I tried to get my cherry fix with something that can't remotely live up to either of those fresh varieties - frozen sweet cherries. While far better than canned, nothing about them compares to the sensation of popping a a firm ripe cherry in your mouth and scraping the pit clean with your teeth. They serve a purpose, but frozen cherries only make me long for summer and its bounty.

I'm so glad summer is here.

Opinions

One of my dear friends said something last night that really hurt me. It hurt me because I couldn't understand why she would think that about me, how she had formed that opinion about me, as someone who knows me so well. Its wasn't a big thing, and I'm not even sure what she meant by it. It left me a little bit hurt and a little bit surprised and quite frankly a little bit angry. It also made me wonder what sort of image I put off about myself.

I guess I should tell you want the comment was - "I can't really see you enjoying life in Colorado" - after I had just stated my desire to live there at some point in time. While I admit that I'm not really the North Face Fleece wearing type (well, I own one and wear it on weekends in the winter). I enjoy nice clothes. I like wearing heals, and I guess I don't do drugs. But, I don't really see why any of that would make her come to that conclusion. As I have discussed her, I'm not a beach person (I could never visit another beach again and probably not be all that sad about it), and I love the mountains and outdoors. I love spending weekends biking or hiking or running outside. I love watching leaves change, catching a deer unaware as I head down a path, or playing in the mounds of freshly fallen snow.

I don't know why I let this opinion get to me so much. This friend's opinions really do matter to me for some unknown reason. As a thirteen year old, singing along to 4 Non Blondes' What's Up, I remember be angered by her comment that I shouldn't sing that song because I didn't have the voice for it. I actually felt vindicated from that comment when my college a cappella group chose me to sing the solo on that very same song. Some might say that I have a memory like an elephants, but I don't really. Its more that her opinions and minor comments can wound me more than almost anyone else's. I don't know why that is. Its so strange because I've sort of grown as a person to the point where most of the time I don't give a damn about what others think about me, but for some reason that's just not true with her (or my mother for that matter). Why do some people's opinions matter more?

Food

I don't write about food much on here. Its not that food isn't important to me - in fact, I would actually say that I have a bit of an unhealthy obsession with food. Its more that my experiences with food seem to me to either be embarrassing (hello eating an entire box of weight watchers giant fudge bars in one sitting) or boring (dinner often consists of a green vegetable, whole wheat pasta, garlic, and olive oil). I think that's part of the problem. I love food and I love eating, but so often I'm fighting myself over these loves. I'm feeling guilty about the dessert I shared with a friend last night, or sneakily gobbling down an entire bag of white cheddar cheese popcorn in my car (both things happened last weekend). I need to give up guilt. I need to stop regarding foods as good or bad. I need to accept that sometimes I eat for reasons that have nothing to do with hunger and everything to do with emotion. Food is not the enemy. Since I already think about food far too much, I want to revel in the tastes and textures, in the scents and flavors.

Today's lunch embodies what I want to feel about food and the kind of food I particularly enjoy putting in my body. I've been excited about this lunch since I thought of it yesterday afternoon. I was sad yesterday when I realized I couldn't have it for dinner cause I already had plans to go out. I convinced myself to go on my run this morning instead of going back to bed when my running partner didn't show up by reminding myself that if I went running I would have time post-run to create this perfect meal (and if I had gone back to sleep I certainly would have overslept and been unable to make it).

Today's lunch tastes of the sweetness of fresh home grown tomatoes, the tangy crispness of chopped green bell peppers, the slightly bitter zing of diced white onions, and the mellow nutiness of olive oil. It tastes fresh and clean. It uses food from my fridge that had sunk to the bottom of my refridgerator drawer and begun to shrivel, but tastes as though I had purchased the produce at the farmers market yesterday. Its food that fills me up and leaves me satisified, yet without a trace of guilt. It nurishes my body and soul.

My lunch is simple - its just couscous with diced tomatoes, onions, green pepper, olive oil, and a tad of garlic. Its just a tabouleh salad. I didn't measure anything, I just boiled some water, threw in some couscous and began chopping. I'll probably never make another salad just like it again. I have no idea how much olive oil or salt I used, and I'll probably stink to the high heavens for the entire afternoon (garlic, check, onions, check). For all I know, it could be horrible for me due to the amount of olive oil, but this is how I want to eat. The reverence that I felt as I dined on this simple salad is how I want to feel about food.

I'm tired of fighting myself over food. I'm tired of feeling guilty. So here's what I want to do - eat foods that satisfy me. Think about what I'm putting in my mouth and why. I want to stop worrying about the amount of olive oil in the salad, and recognize that its just food. Its tomatoes and green peppers and onions and couscous. Its nutrious and healthy. It tastes good. I dwell on the joy in eating and stop being consumed by a fear of food.

To some extent, I've been living with this mindset since the half marathon. I eat what I want to eat. I try to eat at least 5 servings of whole fruit and veggies a day, not because I should, but because it makes me feel good. My body feels better when I do that. I've lost the weight I gained at the end of the half, and in fact, last week (before the striking of PMS bloating), I was back down to 155. If I can eat as I please and maintain my weight, I think I'm ok with maintaining a weight that is slightly higher than is considered "healthy."

pseudo-date

Tomorrow night I'm going to dinner and out dancing with a guy who is pretty damn awesome. He's smart and funny and passionate and close to his family and friends with my friends. I've known him since high school, and he's in town on a break from working on his Ph.D. in Chemistry. But is it a date? Chemistry boy will probably pay for dinner cause he's that kind of guy. He's picking me up at my apartment at six and there will be lots of dancing the night away. He's straight. He had invited me to go to a wedding with him, but I had to pass because I'll be at a different wedding that night. With most other guys in this situation I would think - DATE - but with him, well, I'm not sure.

He came over to the apartment last night, nominally to see the roommate, but ended up hanging out with me instead. In passing, he mentioned that he had been telling his parents about me. Does this lead more to the date theory? Oh, and he called me his dancing partner if that influences the determination. I've never kissed this guy (and honestly the attraction thing is maybe the problem - nicest guy ever, but I've never thought that I wanted to jump him). So, I guess we will find out if its a date or not tomorrow night ;-)

half again?

So, I was talking with my friend Matt today, and he asked if I was going to run the Lewis & Clark half marathon in September. L&C is the other major half marathon in St. Louis - in fact, its where Dean Karnazes' 50, 50, 50 started last year. I hadn't really thought about whether I would do it or not until Matt's question. And now, I don't know:

Pros:
- I want to run another half marathon someday
- Its convenient (I don't have to travel)
- Matt will probably run it too (and in under 2 hours)
- Being in training makes me feel good about myself (physically and mentally)
- It would keep me on a workout schedule
- I've already written the daily mileage in my day planner

Cons:
- I hate running in heat
- I like sleeping in on weekends
- I've been looking forward to having weekends for long bike rides, float trips, weddings, rock climbing, and relaxing by the pool
- I was so bored with running by the time I finished training for the St. Louis half that I just started running regularly again last week
- I hate running in heat
- I like running in the cold (even sub 30 degree weather with snow on the ground)
- I've already missed the first week of training (not that big a deal, training for the week calls for 13 total miles, and I was gonna run 10 or so anyway)
- Training would mess with my current agreement with a workout partner who would not be training

After this analysis, I think I am just gonna keep doing what I'm doing and not train. If what I'm doing ends up looking like training, then maybe I'll sign up for the race. Otherwise, I think I will enjoy long bike rides, float trips, weddings, rock climbing, and relaxing by the pool (while still getting in 5 or more workouts a week). I think I am more suited for spring racing rather than fall racing because of my very strong training weather preference. What do you all think?

Movin' on Up

I’m almost completely moved in to the new apartment. YAY! I love the new apartment and my new furniture looks fabulous.

Yesterday was difficult. The only thing wrong with my apartment is that it’s a third floor walkup, which is only a problem when you are moving in and moving out. I moved two Toyota Camry loads myself, up all those stairs, and unpacked all the stuff. As you can see it was a lot of boxes.


Once I saw the apartment, I realized that my bedroom is a wee bit smaller than I had imagined it in my minds eye. My solution was to cancel the sleigh bed frame. My room looks very finished even without a bed frame, and its going to look even better once I get my curtains up (pretty much the only thing I have to do on my end of things).

Now, I need to buy a couple more things. First, I need groceries. Next, I need a chair. All I want is a simple wooden chair that looks good with my office furniture and fits in the corner when I’m not using it at my desk. Right now, there are only three places to sit in my apartment: my bed, the floor, and my balance ball. I’ve written this entire post while sitting on my balance ball – isn’t that supposed to be good for my abs or something?


The apartment itself is BEAUTIFUL. The kitchen is gorgeous! My bathroom is quite nice, but currently has a slight problem.

So, I started moving yesterday at 7 AM. I didn’t finish and sit down until around 10:30 pm. It was a long move. When I got done, all I wanted was a nice hot shower. First problem: the hot water wouldn’t go on in my shower. This problem was easy to solve – the water had been hooked up backwards, so I just set the water to cold and voila hot water. The next problem caused my bigger problem, the water was spraying in my face too much so I attempted to adjust the shower head so it was behind me more. Um, ouch, not a good idea. I push a bit too hard, and um, broke off my shower head. I got hit in the eye with an incredibly powerful stream of water. I got out of the shower, and used my future roommate’s bathroom instead. Luckily I had already cleaned her bathroom for her. I just didn’t have the energy to deal with the broken shower last night, and although I’m sure its fixable, I think that might be waiting for my dad to fix it for me (I’m too embarrassed to call the landlords about this one unless dad can’t fix it).

btw – I love my new bed.

on the run again

I have this big post written up on my laptop about my move last weekend with photos and everything, but internet access isn't cooperating at home so that post is going to have to wait until tomorrow (when the cable company comes out and sets things up again - lets just say there was a slight miscommunication with my landlord).

Anyway, there are two wonderful things that I am already enjoying about my move. The first is that my commute is literally 6 miles. When I leave my apartment at 8:10, I'm sitting in my desk chair at 8:30. There is no traffic and I'm not going to need to fill up my gas tank every 5 days. Its wonderful. I'm still inclined to try taking public transportation, but right now I'm reveling in the quick commute time. I'm not ready to have a 45 minute commute again just yet.

The second thing is the park. I now live about a half a block from Forest Park. I've written about the park before - its the place where I did my long training runs. I can't say enough great things about having it right outside my back door. I haven't been able to resist the lure of having it just steps away. Yesterday, even though I had Zumba after work, I got up early and went for a 40 minute run. Today, I drove to the other side of the park to meet a friend at 6:20 for another 40 minute run. While getting up at 6 isn't my favorite thing, I have found that I'm already awake so I might as well be running. 6 am in the park is almost a magic time. Its sunny and bright, but the weather isn't too hot yet. There are plenty of other runners on the path so you feel safe, but its not crazy busy like a nice Saturday morning. It has enough hills for diversity, but it has enough flat stretches that you don't get too worn out. Based on the way I live my life now, I never want to live anywhere else in St. Louis. I couldn't be happier.

note to self

Don't ride my bike in the evening without sunglasses, 2 reasons: (1) the sun is right in your eyes when you aren't in the shade and (2) bugs, lots of bugs. Bugs in your eyes suck.

big plans

This past weekend, I had big plans. I was supposed to ride my bicycle over 70 miles in two days. I was supposed to get a little packing done, but generally just enjoy spending two days in Southern Illinois. I was supposed to wear my new Fat Cyclist jersey (orange). None of that happened.

We had thunderstorms this weekend. Friday night, the power went out in the movie theater while I watched Knocked Up (eh, entertaining, but mediocre at best). Saturday, I still wasn't feeling 100% after the wonderful bought with the stomach flu during the week, and thunderstorms were projected for Southern Illinois. I'm a pansy and have no real desire to ride my bike in the middle of thunderstorms, or get picked up by the sag wagon and hang out with a bunch of random people I don't know in the rain. And it was supposed to rain all morning on Sunday. So, I didn't go. I stayed home. I did a lot of packing, reading of books, going to a housewarming party, getting a bad manicure (stupid not letting the polish dry between coats and hence having bubbling nails), and going to brunch. It was a wonderful weekend, even if I was a lazy behind and didn't do an ounce of exercise. It turned out Sunday was perfect in St. Louis (though who knows what things were like 150 miles away in Southern IL).

My only regret is that I didn't get to ride that morning and wear my brand spanking new jersey. Its super cool and I feel so connected to the world when I wear it. I know people have received those jerseys across the country and even throughout the world.

On that note, I have another post about his Pink jerseys. As I mentioned before, his wife is being treated for Cancer, and he has come out with a pink jersey. Twin Six, the company that is making the jerseys, isn't making any profit off the them. The profits are all being divided three ways: to pay for fatty's wife's cancer treatment, to pay for a trip to Italy for her after treatment, and to go to the Lance Armstrong Foundation. I've got to admit that though I have never met fatty and likely never will, I have begun to feel like I'm a part of that community and that I truly know him. I'm looking forward to getting my pink jersey and wearing it with pride.

bleagh!

Um, so, well, the reason my body hurt everywhere wasn't just muscle pain. I had the stomach flu. Missed two days of work. Ached all over. Curled up in a little ball in my bed. Generally hated life. Things are better now...lets just pray there is no rain this weekend in southern Illinois...

I hurt. Everywhere.

More honestly, I could say that I hurt everywhere below my chin. My head actually feels fine. The pain is a result of a fantastic weekend, though, so really its a good thing.

My exercise binge on Saturday has resulted in some somewhat lasting repercussions. My legs are still sore for the crazy amount of squats that we did in that sculpt and tone class. I don't think it helped much that I also did a spinning class and a two hour bike ride that day. Its not really suprising that every time I even looked at stairs the rest of the weekend, my legs screamed in protest. I had forgotten how much I hate squats, but man, I really do hate them. They make me hurt; they are boring; they make me want to hurt someone. Really nothing good about squats - other than the fact that they make my butt and legs look good ;-)

The rest of me hurts from the really fun activities of this weekend at the Lake of the Ozarks. I got driven around on a jet ski and well, I got thrown off 3 times (the driver claims only one of these times was intentional, but I have my doubts). It was a total blast, but my butt is SORE from slamming into the side of the jet ski on my way down. I haven't laughed so hard in a long time so it was totally worth the pain and the lost and gone forever sunglasses (at least they were cheap ones). My back, neck, shoulders, and arms are sore from the tubing. We got pulled around in a big tube and bounced around on the lake. I was holding on for my dear life, and again, a total blast. I felt like a teenager - part of that was probably going on the lake vacation with my parents and family friends, but part of it was just the joy of playing on the lake. It was great to relax in the sun, go for boat rides, play in the lake, and eat badly (oh, the best cookies and cakes, hot dogs and smores...mmmmmmm).

Weight: 161.5 (ug, but after my eating at the lake, not a big surprise - I gotta get this back under control!)

holy crap

I had a number of blog posts I wanted to write today. I went on somewhat of an exercise binge today (spinning class, sculpt and tone class, 2 hours of biking the Katy) and I've discovered a new favorite food (locally made all natural peanut butter), but I have to write about something else because I need my heart to stop racing.

My bike rack broke on the highway. Yep, BROKE! My bike was then being held onto my car by 1 strap and the cord I use to keep my front wheel from moving around. The back wheel had moved off the rack and WAS DRAGGING ON THE GROUND!! I don't have a cheap bike rack- nope - I recently spent over $100 to buy a Saris Bones-3 bike rack. Its supposed to be one of the top trunk racks on the market. One of the straps that holds the bike to the rack snapped right in half right where it joins to the rack. I want to cry - I love the bike rack, but now how can I trust it anymore (there are two other slots that aren't broken)? I need a good bike rack cause I have to drive a couple hundred miles next weekend for a bike trip I have planned.

I just never expected anything like this to happen. I expected if there was ever a problem with my bike rack it would be because I had installed something wrong. But, this wasn't my error. I have no idea how this could have happened, and I don't know what to do to prevent it. Luckily I was able to get off the highway and put the bike on a different slot without incident. Hearing the sound of that plastic snapping (and I heard it snap) is going to continue to freak me out for a while.

After I get back from the road trip next weekend, I think I will be sending the rack in to Saris. Its supposed to have a lifetime warranty - hopefully they will replace the part.

Vegan Pad Thai

So, when your lunch makes you want to vomit, you know you have done something terribly wrong. Lately, I've been attempting to eat vegetarian for most meals of the day - in part because it tends to be lower calorie and in part because its environmentally friendly. Anyway, I had purchased this vegan pad thai at whole foods cause I wanted a change for the wonderful Amy's Organic meals that I love so much. This was a mistake. The smell wasn't particularly appetizing, but I never let that rule my food decisions by itself. I've had some quite yummy frozen entrees that don't smell so great. What got me, though, was the taste and texture. Bleech! Luckilly the smell wasn't too strong so I didn't have to take the uneaten box out to the bathroom trash to dispose of the stink - it could just go in the regular trash can.

Then I found something else to eat in the cafeteria - yummy popcorn shrimp and french fries. Nothing about this was the healthiest option, but man was it good.

Weight: 161 (ug)

traveling woman

Well, my mission to avoid being at home as much as possible during the month that I am home with my parents is working quite well. This trip to Chicago for the weekend was quite a blast. I got into the city at about 11 pm on Friday night, and what a night it was. One of my friends from law school had flown in for the weekend from DC for a wedding and he wanted to go clubbin’. The thing about Navid is that he doesn’t drink, but boy really can dance. We didn’t even head out until 12:30 and then we headed down to the Rush street area. The bars aren’t really my scene. They are the kind of places that make me feel old, but I suppose that can’t be helped. We hung out at a table at one bar until about 2, when our friend Scott finally showed up (he had a prior karaoke engagement, apparently). Only problem was that Scott had gym shoes on – the bar was not going to let him in, even after Laura tried to use her feminine whiles on the bouncer. So then we had to leave, and find a new bar – at 2 a.m. We ended up at another bar that in the past has really really not been my scene. I had a blast that night, but it wasn’t cause of the bar, it was cause of my friends. Navid is a great guy to dance with – he knows how to dance but he also keeps an appropriate distance so that I don’t feel at all uncomfortable. The bar was one of those places that constantly amaze me. People were making out every where, couples were grinding on the floor – craziness. What did I expect from a bar after 2 a.m. on a Friday night? We finally got back to Laura’s place at about 4, and sadly, I only managed to sleep until sunrise. I stayed in bed until 9, but I have gotten to the point where I can’t sleep well after the sun comes up. Its really sad.

Saturday involved a trip to Target, where I encountered my first (English as a native language) person who had no idea what a cooler was. She just looked at us with a completely blank stare when we asked her where they were in the store. The sad thing was I was so shocked by her complete lack of understanding that I couldn’t think of a description of a cooler. The best I could come up with was “you know, one of those things that people sometimes put ice in.” Somehow my magnificent description allowed her to tell us that they were in fact downstairs (actually the ones we wanted were upstairs, but we later discovered that they were also downstairs so perhaps she wasn’t a complete moron). The morning was rounded out with a trip to the grocery store, and then there was an afternoon of eating. We got back to Laura’s around 1:00 and she had invited people over for a BBQ. The BBQ ended up lasting all day long, and she wouldn’t start grilling till other people got there. Now Cheerios are all well and good, but at bowl of Cheerios at 9 a.m. will not see me through until 3 p.m. so I started snacking, and snacking, and snacking. I think I consumed about 1000 calories worth of pretzels. It was a perfect Saturday in Chicago to be sitting out on a roof deck, sunny and about 80-85. But, by the time the BBQ ended, I was exhausted and very very full of pretzel and fruit salad. We had planned to meet the law school crowd out again after a nap, but when I woke from my nap at 11 (there’s more of a story there) no one wanted to go out anymore.

Today was kinda dreary and bleak. We got a nice brunch out – mmmm eggs benedict. Then we sat around watching the Cubs/Sox game and then Indiana Jones. I had forgotten how much those snakes creep me out. I think that movie (Lost Arc) is what inspired my fear of snakes. When I was really little I used to not be scared of snakes at all and would even catch them in my creek. Now, I freak out even when I see a completely harmless one on the path when I’m riding my bike.

So, my one disappointment of the weekend was that I didn’t get to see Sean (train boy) at all. He invited me to a party on Friday night, but none of my friends wanted to go (I don’t blame them). I called him on Saturday to invite him to the BBQ, but I didn’t hear from him until 11 (that’s what woke me from my “nap.”). We made plans to get together this afternoon, but then he told me where to meet him. Then I got a call from him after I had gotten back on the train to go home. I sort of feel like it was intentional, but who knows? I certainly didn’t make too much of an extra effort to see him, and so I didn’t really expect him to go out of his way to see me. Still, if he didn’t intend to hang out today, he shouldn’t have told me last night that we would hang out at a bar this afternoon. I don’t really care, but I must care more than I think I do because I’m writing about it here. Oh well…

As far as athletic stuff goes, I actually did sign up for that bike trip the first weekend in June. I’m a little nervous about the 70 miles in 2 days. That’s the longest I’ve ever ridden in two days together. Also, I hope the Tunnel Hill Trail is just as flat as easy as the Katy trail and doesn’t have an incline like Grant’s trail.

Stupid

I can't even begin to describe to you all how mad at myself I am right now. This morning when I got to work, I realized that I had left my cell phone at home. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem. I don't use my phone much at work, but today, I needed my phone cause I'm catching a train to Chicago at 5:00. I don't know most people's numbers without my cell phone, including the number for the girl I'm supposed to be staying with. So, at lunch time, I took an extra long lunch break and drove all the way home (50 miles round trip) to get my cell phone.

I got home, grabbed the cell phone and charger and decided that while I was home, I should change shirts cause it was chillier here than expected (so undoubtably its colder in Chicago). I listened to my voicemail as I went up the stairs, deleted the voicemail, set the phone down on my bad, changed shirts, got back in my car and drove home. As you will note, there is a slight step missing in that sentence - picking the phone back up off the bed. I got to the parking garage at work and decided that I should check to see what time it is. I began digging in my purse, but no cell phone. I dumped out the contents of my purse, but still no cell phone. Now, that's what I call stupid.

Anyway, my dad is currently on his way, driving downtown (50 miles roundtrip remember) to bring me my cell phone. My own stupidity amazes me sometimes...

Patience

I don't have a lot of patience, either with myself or with other people. Last night, I learned that this applies to my biking as well. I had gone for a ride on Grant's trail and was the first person at a cross walk waiting for the walk signal. This couple (who I had just passed) came riding up and pulled right in front of me. I was almost at the end of the bike path before the street, but even though they got there after me, this couple decided that they needed to place their bikes right in front of mine. This wouldn't have bothered me much, although it seemed pretty rude by itself. I mean, the rules of the road apply to biking too. I got there first so the line should have formed behind me. The problem - the signal changes to walk and the husband starts riding (their bikes weren't one in front of the other, but were side by side). Wife, who is parked directly in front of me, attempts to start riding, but can't get her bike going. In fact, she has to stop in the middle of the street and try again.

This really pissed me off. I have no problem with beginning bikers. Not that long ago, I consistently had problems starting my bike. No, my problem was that she intentionally placed her bike directly in front of mine, passing me to get to the front, and then couldn't start riding. This is so rude, I don't even know how to explain it. What possessed that couple to think that was a good idea? If you don't know how to start your bike at a light, wouldn't you stay at the back? Why would you hold up other people? Its not like they got there first and just didn't move back, nope, they intentionally passed me.

Its funny, while I enjoy biking more than running most days, I enjoy runners more than bikers. Runners nod hello, are willing to go on training runs with people with less skill, and generally just nicer all the way around. Bikers on the other hand tend to be so focused on what they are doing that they don't notice anyone else. Its just interesting.

BTW - today was national bike to work day. I didn't bike to work because my commute is 25 miles each way over a very very hilly city. It would have taken me the rest of my life to bike to work (partially cause I would have died on the hills long before I got to the city). If it was next month I probably would have ridden in cause my apartment is much much closer to work. Regardless, I found it interesting that I didn't see a single biker on my entire trip in. This is likely because I drive in at the very end of rush hour for work and also because almost my entire commute is on the interstate.

Bicycle, bicyle goes so fast

Yesterday, I went for my first bike ride of the year. I had really missed it, and now I know why those weekends spent running felt so painful - I enjoyed this so much more (well, until I realized that setting out on a 30 mile bike ride when I no longer had a biker's butt was not a good idea). I rode 30 miles on the Katy trail. I was actually really worried that I wouldn't be able to do this ride yesterday. As some of you may know, Missouri is dealing with a wee bit of flooding right now. There was talk that the Missouri might be covering highway 94 at Klondike and that would have meant it was covering the trail too. As you can see, the river and tributaries were pretty high. Luckily, the river crested at lower levels than they were predicting and everything I care about stayed dry. The news media keeps comparing this flood to the Flood of '93, but its nothing like it. Even though the river is nearly as high, many of the houses that were in the flood zone back then have been moved,and those last couple feet make a huge difference in damage.


Yesterday was perfect weather on the trail. When I started out it was about 70 degrees and sunny. There wasn't a cloud in the sky all day, and after the days of thunderstorms that was pretty great. For those of you who think of my home state as fly over territory (which I won't argue with), I will say that Missouri is beautiful. It has some of the most gorgeous landscapes in the country. Its not like Kansas - we have hills as well as plains (some people pretend the Ozark hills are mountains but come on people, if you have seen real mountains, you know better). The Katy is an old railroad line so its pretty flat, and it runs along the Missouri river basin so the land around it is pretty flat too. But, there are rolling hills in the distance. In fact, some of the hills are up close and personal and you can see where the railroad cut through the landscape to form the trail.

Around mile 17 or so, this guy passed me in opposite direction and wondered how far I was riding that day. When I told him that I planned to do 30 that day and that I figured that was enough for my first ride of the year, he told me I was gonna be sore tomorrow. I said probably not, other than my butt hurting. Without blinking, he replied that was probably because I was "so athletic." Despite the fact that I ran a half marathon last month and set out for a 30 mile bike ride without a second thought yesterday, I still don't see or think of myself as athletic. If I signed up for match.com again (ummm...unlikely to happen anytime soon btw), I would certainly not check the "athletic and fit" box for body type (I think of myself as "about average"). Anyway, that was such a great compliment for me partially because it was just such an off hand comment for that guy. To him, I look athletic - how cool is that!? Maybe I just have a distorted body image (I think this is very possible). Anyway, that was a big excitement for the day.

I also experienced the biking bonk for the first time. By the time I stopped for
lunch, I had ridden about 20 miles on a half a bagel and some tomatoes. I was starving, I didn't realize how hungry I was until I got off the bike and walked up the hill to order my favorite biking lunch (beer and the best darn grouper sandwich north of Florida). By the time I got to the bar to place my order, I was practically shaking and almost felt like I was going to throw up. I desperately needed to eat. I drank about half the beer and a bottle of water while waiting for my oh so wonderful sandwich. I don't know if the sandwich is really that good, or if I am always that hungry when I eat it. It doesn't matter - either way it is a sandwich that always tastes perfect to me and gives me exactly what I need. I also like the motto of the brewery in question.

By the time I got back to my car, my butt was hurting like no other. I'm beginning to worry about whether it will be able to handle the 70 mile weekend I have planned for the first weekend in June. I'm sure it will be fine as long as I get some miles in between now and then. I was going to ride today, but I decided that my butt needed an extra day off. Tomorrow I have my second Zumba session. I loved the first class, and I figure it can only get better as I figure out what exactly I'm supposed to be doing. I'm getting less than 10 miles in a week running these days, and honestly that feels pretty good. I'm not getting out of shape, but I have time for these other things that I love doing.

Weight: 157.5 (yesterday morning)

P.S. - In case you didn't realize I finally took my camera with me so I could record a little bit of my life to share with you all. Hope you enjoy the pictures:-)

and I just posted about being a feminist

I sort of debated about whether I should post this. I won't say who I received this email from and I'm kind of mortified that anyone would send this to me. I originally wanted to pretend like it didn't happen, but after I told e about it, she encouraged me to confront him and to tell you all. This decreases my faith in men. This is the email I received (copied word for word) today from a married man who was on law journal with me:

"You looked terrific at the bar ceremony. Did I notice a tan? And your hair was done? very sexy -- you're an impressive woman -- especially in a suit. I'm glad I was wearing loose pants when I watched you walk across the stage -- You have a confident walk, and it accentuates that small, sexy little butt you have.

Since I've been unsuccessful in getting you out for a drink, ;), we'll have to get lunch one of these days when it's warm an sunny outside -- Is it work approrpriate to wear those pants that only go to your calves? that are tight around your hips? ;) and a little sleevless shirt? --- just a suggestion. ;) -- but of course if you go out with me wearing something like this, you'll have to forgive me if I lean my head back once or twice to peek at that small, sexy little butt -- but I promise I won't make a scene, ;)"

In no world would this be an appropriate email to send to a professional acquaintance. Its particularly sleazy because said man is MARRIED. When I first began receiving flirtatious emails from him, I had forgotten this fact (I've never met his wife and he and I weren't good friends in law school). I flirted back, and we went out to lunch a couple times. When I realized he was married, I ditched him on a weekend evening when we were supposed to meet for drinks. I haven't seen or heard from him since then. Even still, I never expected to get such an email from him. I can't attribute this email to a "drunk email" - it was sent at 8:30 this morning.

The feminist in me is mortified that someone would be thinking that as I was handed my license to practice law. How degrading as a woman! I'm not sure what to do? Should I confront him and tell him that this email is not appropriate and that I do not want to talk to him again? Its sad cause I do enjoy his company (on a TOTALLY platonic level), but this is just not acceptable. Even if he wasn't married, this email would not be acceptable. I can't imagine why he thinks that this is something any woman would want to read. Am I wrong?

It just makes me sad...

ok, I'm a feminist

I don't normally associate myself with the word feminist. Its not that I think that I'm not, its more that I am lucky enough not to need to think about it. I can live the life that I want to live.

Today, as I sat in the Illinois Bar swearing in ceremony, I was reminded of one of my pet peeves - "girly" handshakes. I have nothing against girly handshakes in the proper context. Debutantes are welcome to shake hands with men by just using the tips of their fingers. Women who frequent Renaissance fairs are welcome to use this gesture. I can't really think of any other place that they are appropriate, but I'm sure there are some. Where I find them unacceptable is in any business context. They bother me because they say that women shouldn't be treated the same as men that we are too delicate. They really aggravate me because they are the reason why men often attempt to give me one as well. Women who give the "girly" handshake in business situations cause men not to know how to treat those of us who shake hands like regular people. Watching several women give the girly handshake to an Illinois Supreme Court judge made me angry and embarrassed. Its such a simple gesture that says so much about how we expect to be treated.

On another "feminist" issue, I'm fascinated with people who are mortified that I wouldn't want to take my potential future husband's name. Its not that I'm against women taking their husband's names on principal. Honestly, I don't really care what other people do, but people seem offended that I will probably keep my last name for the rest of my life (don't ask me how this comes up in conversation, I don't really understand that myself). When I was younger, I liked the thought of losing my last name. My last name causes people to make certain assumptions about me - which while perhaps true about my father are not true about me. Its very Jewish, and dad is Jewish, but I'm Catholic. My (ex-nun) mother came at the request of the school and taught my elementary school about Jewish holidays like Hanukkah, and I dread facing a similar request myself. I don't know much more about the Jewish holidays than the average Catholic person. Anyway, not long ago I came to the realization that I will likely have my last name for the rest of my life. I want to keep my name because it means something. I sometimes think that I would be shooting myself in the foot if I took on another name. I'm in a career where networking is especially important. People I met in college and law school will hopefully be people I interact with in the future. I will have to build a client base and keep myself employed. If I shed my last name, I shed all of those connections. People I meet now or don't keep in good touch with will not know this new named person. I'm a professional and no one would expect a professional man to give up his business name because he got married. Now, potentially, I could hyphenate. Hyphenating is not for me. My last name is already nine letters and three syllables long. Adding anything on to that is absurd. Now, what I want to know is who am I hurting by keeping this name forever? When one of my friend married and kept her last name, the minister kept insinuating that this was terrible, that she wasn't respecting her husband, that it foretold bad things for the future of their marriage. Why? I don't understand. Alright, enough feminism for now...

cycling for a cause...

So, I don't normally link to other people's blogs. I actually read quite a few, but I figure with my audience mostly being six people I knew in college, I really don't have much advertising strength. That being said, one of my favorite blogs is Fat Cyclist. He's very funny and makes me wish I were an endurance cyclist. I feel like I know him, even though he wouldn't have the foggiest idea who I am if we ever met. He seems like a very cool guy, though. Right now, he's going through a rough patch - his wife's cancer has come back and she's in the middle of treatment. He's thinking about creating a pink jersey in her honor. The company that makes the jerseys isn't going make a profit on them, its a good jersey company, and the profits are going to cancer research and his wife's jewelry making hobby. I want one, this is something I really can support, and I just thought I would let you all know that its out there.

wants to be big time

Memphis is weird. As my friend Matt put it, it wants to be a real grown up city, and it tries really really hard, but it just doesn't quite get it right. Take for example, the trolley. What is the point of the trolley? Does it actually function as a public transportation system even though it really doesn't go anyway? Is it really helpful that it travels the length of Main Street? Now, honestly, I shouldn't be criticizing other cities' public transportation systems because I live in St. Louis. In St. Louis, paying for "metrolink" is largely optional. Sometimes a guy gets on the train and makes sure that you have a valid ticket, but oftentimes he does not. Metrolink also doesn't really go anyway (well, it now goes to Clayton, downtown, and the airport) so again, I have no room to speak.

Another aspect of Memphis just not quite being a real city is the sports. I enjoyed my Redbirds game quite a bit, but I was not alone in the stadium in wearing Cardinals paraphernalia. Its a bit odd to be in a city 300 miles away from home and have the baseball fans be St. Louis fans. I love the Cards, but it seems odd. The Redbirds are the Cards' AAA minor league team, so it makes sense, but why not just wear Redbirds gear?

Well, one thing Memphis does right is Bar-B-Q, and I must admit that I partook. mmmmmm...so good, on Texas toast...

Also, I have a love for the Flying Saucer (its one of a chain of restaurants that pretends its not part of a chain) because of its pretzels and beer. Lots and lots of kinds of yummy beers, beer flights, ciders, and did I mention beer. The pretzels were also quite yummy. A trip to Memphis is worth the drive just for the visit to the Bar-B-Q Shop and the Flying Saucer.

As you can tell it was not a good weekend for my weight. Today, I'm trying something new - one of my friends just got licensed to teach Zumba and she is offering an experimental class (to work out the bugs of teaching a class before she agrees to do it at her gym). I'm really looking forward to it.

nothing much happening

Sorry, I haven't written since I got back from vacation. The cruise was good, not awesome, not terrible. All in all, I did alright on the eating plan (my weight last Monday at ww was 159.5 - so I was down from my last weigh in). I really don't have much to write about with it though. I refuse to complain in my online journal about a vacation that many people would kill for. I enjoyed spending some time with my family, enjoyed good food and wine, got minorly sunburned, and read 6 books. That about covers it.

This week the big change is that the 'rents are back from Florida. I wasn't expecting them until more like mid-month and thought I wouldn't have a lot of sharing the house time after their return. I was wrong. They came back last Wednesday, and its taking a bit of getting used to. I'm just not accustomed to someone wanting to talk to me at 7:50 as I eat my bowl of Kashi, watch reruns of Charmed, check my email, and get out of the house by 8:10. I'm not used to people wanting to know if I'll be home for dinner. I'm not used to having to think about when I can do laundry because other people are using the washer. I'm not used to parking on the curb and having to brave the rain. Really, so far the talking in the morning thing is the biggest problem. My mom has had several conversations with me already that I don't really recall at all. She talks, I grunt, and apparently she thinks that we have communicated about something. I'm not a morning person. The nice thing is that they make me coffee in the morning - I think its to make me more of a human being.

Oh, one more thing I'm not used to, the body image comments from my mother. This morning, she asked me "Oh, so I see you are wearing the size 8 pants today." I responded that I wasn't, that I was wearing the size 10 pants (not something I'm either happy or proud about). I didn't ask her, but I immediately began wondering what she meant by that comment. So much so that when I got to work, I asked one of my coworkers if my pants looked too tight on me. Was my mom trying to tell me that my pants looked to small and I needed to move up a size? Was she trying to say that it didn't look like I was wearing the ginormous size 12 pants (I didn't own size 10 pants - yes they are all the same, gotta love ann taylor triacetate - when she left to go to Florida so I either wore the kinda small on me size 8s or the way big on me size 12). I don't know. Having her here commenting on the way I look, what I'm wearing for makeup, and my clothing choices is really bad for my self image.

To make the sharing the house time longer, I was a nice person and told my future landlord that we would be ok with moving in a little over a week late because the current tenant is having problems with the house he is building. This means that I need to come up with ways to be out of the house. This weekend, I'm headed to Memphis to catch a AAA baseball game, drink some beer, eat some BBQ, and maybe hang out a little on Beale Street. Next weekend, I'm thinking a possible trip to Chicago. I recently figured out that I have to stay here for Memorial day weekend because my godparents' daughter's (and one of my best friends from childhood's) wedding is that Saturday. I had been thinking of a trip either to NY to visit my friend Courtney or ABQ to visit Elisabeth. Now neither of those trips will happen for a little while.

The one other trip option I'm thinking about right now is for the first weekend in June (my last weekend living with the 'rents). There is this bike trip in Southern Illinois. I've never done a bike trip before, and this one looks really doable for me. Its on a rails-to-trails bike trail and you ride 35 miles a day. 35 miles is longer than any of my rides last year (longest I did was about 30), but I really think 35 is not unreasonable, especially since we wouldn't really be doing hills (rails-to-trails). The price is reasonable considering it includes lodging and some food. I've got to make a decision by May 10 if I want to register, and I really think I might. Its the kind of thing I've wanted to do for a while. Any thoughts?

Weight: 160.5 (home scale - I don't like it, but its that time of the month so whatever)
Worked out 3 days this week with some minor running. Its amazing how quickly you lose the leg/lung power. But, part of it was the one of those runs was in 90 degree temps and you all know how I feel about running in the heat (ICK!)