As you know, I’m in “training” (AKA: deluding myself) for a triathlon (The Spudman) on July 31, 2010 . I do not look like a porn star nor do I resemble an athlete. As a 5 year-old, however, everyone always told me I looked like Gretel from The Sound of Music… but that’s neither here nor there and doesn’t help in the fitness department.
Last Friday A, my trainer, suggested I run in Alexandria’s annual Turkey Trot — a 5 miler through parts of the city. Of course since the “new math” concept never really sunk in with my generation (which might be why we purchase milk and gas in gallons but soda in liters), I assumed 5 miles was 5 kilometers (3.1 miles). Not so. 5 miles. Ugh. And the worst part? I’ve only worked out once in the last 2 weeks… so I was in no way prepared to do anything. Oh well.
By mile 2, need to pee permeated my thoughts. Blisters, lots of dogs to avoid, and misty rain joined me on my journey (I left visiting family behind). But wait. It’s all good news: No asthma attacks! I didn’t wet myself! And the biggest accomplishment… I ran all 5 miles without stopping!!!
I know there are scores of real runners out there who are no doubt harrumphing my “triumph.” I don’t care. It was my first real race and while I can’t feel my legs right now, I finished. Imagine what I could have done if I’d actually prepared for it! OK, I realize that’s a stretch but maybe I could have shaved a minute off time. I’m not looking for miracles here.
I think there are a few 5K races I’ll do next month. Maybe (hopefully) I can improve my run time but if not, at least I know I can finish. Next stop… Burley, Idaho!
This is Cédric, a French photographer whose portraits and landscape shots are stunning. You can take a quick glance of his work here. He looks cool and comfortable, reading his paperback in the sun. His jean shirt appears somewhat dated, notably faded and something I’d see in a cowboy dance hall (yes, I used to country dance every Thursday night so I know of what I speak). And while I’m not a fan of his shirt, it contains something that took my breath away…
The heart that his wife embroidered on the inside of his shirt pocket. No need to wear your heart on your sleeve when it’s cradled in your pocket. It’s the little things.
I’ve got nothing on Janet Lee and her ill-fated shower, but man oh man… this morning was quite the experience.
Before you all think I’m an exhibitionist, let me state that I’m well aware of the many situations revolving around nudity that have come up in my life. Believe me when I say 1) I’m so not showing off; and 2) It’s definitely not on purpose.
On Wednesdays, rather than working out from 5:30 – 7:00 am I show up a little before 7 and work out with with my personal trainer for an hour. Due to the gym’s location (nestled between 395 and about 73 schools) and the fact that it’s rush hour, the trip home can take up to 20 or 30 minutes. This puts me in a mad dash to shower, maybe shave, blow dry my hair (I can usually skip this step in the summer and just slick it back into a ponytail), put on make up, dress, and shovel some kind of food product down my throat before jumping into my car and sitting on the parkway for 30 minutes.
Let me give you a little background on my apartment. It was built a short while after WWII by someone who thought putting a window right next to the shower head would be a swell idea. I’m on the second floor and my view is of a parking lot, so I really don’t care. Or didn’t care… until today.
This morning the drive home from the gym took much longer than usual (3 school buses were in front of me) so I was slightly behind with my schedule. I walked into my bathroom and came THIS CLOSE to having a stroke because there were 2 construction workers fixing the bricks above my window.
Can you see them? They kept bending over and standing back up which made it almost impossible for me to pull down the blinds without being noticed. In addition, the blinds thought the situation was funny and had no interest in being pulled down and blocking their view. So I ate breakfast, watched a little of the Today Show and picked out my clothes. After 10 minutes they were still there! I struggled with the blinds for a bit but finally got them to cooperate and turned into the Wild Woman of Borneo to put myself together.
Hope they enjoyed the show because there won’t be a repeat tomorrow.
Leave it to kids to tell you like it is. My boss has twin 6 year-old girls who really are a kick in the pants and couldn’t be more different. The girls came to the office today after visiting the National Portrait Gallery and decided to draw MY portrait.
I seem to be bald and wearing dangle earrings. I also appear tall and apparently she views me as someone with the body of an Ethiopian famine victim. This first portrait appears to resemble more of Picasso’s style as opposed to presenting me in a Rubenesue fashion. Is that a good thing? Would I rather be fleshy or have a sideways head, three eyes, and drink a milkshake with my nose? Good thing my name is right there (on the white board in the conference room, no less) so no one will mistake who I am.
In this next one, I suppose you should know that I’m wearing a black and white poka dot dress (straight out of Donna Reid’s closet circa 1957) and a pink cardigan sweater.
I have mini arms. I mean really… they’re just ever so slightly out of proportion to my body. Whenever I see someone with mini arms I know I shouldn’t look stare, but I can’t seem to help myself. I know I’m terrible. Don’t worry… my hair looks like something out of Star Wars because today I pulled it into a ponytail (not because I liked Princess Leia’s hair). My jaundice appearance can mean one of two things: 1) Since I didn’t get my flu shot, I’m getting sick and little eyes notice everything; OR 2) I’m wearing a bit more bronzer than necessary. And finally: three fingers people… and yet I’m able to accomplish so much.
Who thinks they can do better?
No doubt you have heard of the H1N1 virus, commonly known as Swine Flu. Maybe some of you (your children, spouse, significant other, co-workers, bus drivers, mailman, whomever) know someone who has come down with it. So tell me: is it as bad as the media is making it out to be?
Due to my asthma, I’m what the medical field calls “special” (I’m socially “special” too, in case you haven’t figured that out yet) and am now eligible for the vaccine. Breathing is an important part of my daily life. Much more important than blinking, hair growth, and even my digestive track (Jamie Lee Curtis has convinced me that Activia takes care of all that). Last time I had bronchitis, I asked my doctor what her opinion was. She said:
1. The media is blowing the Swine Flu out of proportion and it’s not as dangerous as they want everyone to believe.
2. She, as a medical professional, is not getting the shot.
3. As an asthmatic I’m a high-risk case, so I should definitely get the shot.
I found her counseling to be a bit confusing, kind of like the return in popularity of fluorescent-colored socks and shoulder pads.
I wasn’t going to get the vaccine but I’ve been having a difficult time with the regular sitting at my desk breathing and have had near asthma attacks each time I do cardio (just ask my trainer… I gasped and then nearly barfed on him last week), so I thought the shot might not be such a bad idea.
This morning I called the doctor’s office and not only was I put on hold for 15 minutes to really bad hold music (think Michael Bolton), but the three times someone (the same someone) picked up the phone and asked what I wanted, I asked the same question (“When are you getting the vaccine?”) and was told each time to wait.
I was finally rewarded with, “We don’t have it, don’t know when we’ll get it, and if/when we do it will only be available to children and pregnant women.” “But I’m a high risk case and HHS said people in my situation can have it now.” “Oh. Well, we don’t have it. Bye.” I hung up before she did, just to let her know her customer service skills suck.
All I wanted was a few options: 1. We don’t have it yet but we’re compiling a list of patients who want it. Can I have your number? -OR- 2. You can go to X and get it there.
So before I stand in line with the masses at the free clinic on Saturday, anyone have an opinion they want to share?
I know there are thousands of people who love scary/horror/slasher type movies or else there wouldn’t be a reason to release Saw VI. I’m not into the gore, torture, missing body parts, vomit, and strategically placed bikini tops. I think there are 50 billion other interesting things to watch (Anthony Bourdain comes to mind as do reruns of Laverne and Shirley).
There are, of course, exceptions to every rule and my first exception is Carrie.
Oddly enough, I first watched this movie with my mother when I was in middle school. It didn’t have a lingering affect of how horrible dating might be (AKA: rejection), or make me feel bad for being a weird outcast loser, force me to call my breasts “pillows”, or prompt me to say ‘No’ to Scott What’s-his-name when he asked me to the prom for fear of the gym exploding. It’s looking at my prom photos now that make me want to kill myself… I resembled a head of lettuce in that horrible, horrible green dress. That dress was truly frightening.
But what did Carrie really do to me? I was terrified of getting my period in public and the great humiliation that would surely follow. Guys: I’m sure that part of the movie didn’t even make a blip on your radar but at the time, I couldn’t think of anything worse. To this day I’m still paranoid about it.
My other great irrational fear is actually no longer irrational. About 18 months ago, I shared an experience with you that will no doubt the closest I will ever get to this fear… a fear that is only exacerbated by my inability to NOT watch Shark Week. You see, my fear is now justified. Yes, that’s right… I believe JAWS is the scariest movie out there because it could actually happen!
Don’t tell me I’m being paranoid because this time I’ve got proof… and not proof from the Insaneo’s Journal of Paranormal Activity. Real proof, boys and girls. Real. No Photoshop here.
What more proof do you need than this?
That, my friends, is a 10 ft. Great White Shark and it was BITTEN IN HALF by a “monster-sized” Great White Shark in Australia. This “monster” is only 5 ft. smaller than the one in Stephen Spielberg’s mind (which I believe was somewhere in the neighborhood of 25 ft). One of the words to described the attack was “maul.” Death by shark mauling. Now I could go the mall and die happy, so “death by malling” doesn’t sound all that bad but mauled to death by a monster-sized shark? I don’t think so.
According to another report, “Whale carcasses left to rot in southeast Queensland’s Moreton Bay could be attracting the monster shark.” Thankfully I believe their definition of “whale” most likely means a sea-faring creature and not how I describe myself in a bathing suit. Still doesn’t make me feel any better nor does it make me want to frolic in the ocean. Of course the closest body of water is the Potomac River and there’s no way I’m frolicking in that cesspool.
But the part that sticks in my crawl the most? Now I’m freaked out about my Australia trip. I’m not supposed to go for 3 1/2 years but still. Here’s hoping the bastard will be dead by then because if I’m going to meet my maker, the cause will not be “death by shark mauling.” Nu-uh.
I can only hope that since I’ve already lost it and it’s only 9:30 am that the rest of the day will be cake. I mean really… how is it possible to get up at 5 am, work out for 70 minutes, do the dishes, get ready, and then have the day be shot to hell?
I take the bus to work, which I actually enjoy. The commute is only 15-20 minutes (vs. riding the Metro which is close to 30 or 40) and there aren’t any tourists. Ever. As the bus pulled up this morning, I realized that I didn’t have my SmarTrip card with me (which had close to $200 on it).
I walked home and ransacked my apartment… no card. As I quickly calculated where I lost it, I realized that I dropped it on the bus after I used it on Tuesday afternoon. I got in my car and drove to work. Metro’s website told me my card had no value (!) when I tried to transfer the funds. I called and let the phone ring 21 times. No one picked up and their mailbox was full. I was, by this time, close to having a hissy fit so I huffed myself over Metro Center.
Metro Center has 3 street entrances and of course I went to the other two before finding the correct one with customer service inside. The guy in the booth said he couldn’t help because it’s a contracted situation. Gee, thanks. His contribution to my story was 1) ticking me off; and 2) giving me a phone number to the company that contracts the SmarTrip cards.
That organization picked up on the third ring and I actually spoke to a human! Wow. She gave me some directions but I dropped the phone in the middle of her soliloquy. I quickly found myself on my hands and knees, kneeling where a homeless person had most likely peed the night before, and scribbling her instructions to transfer the $200 to my new card.
The escalator continued belching up commuters. There was a tour bus full of passengers, a UPS truck, FedEx truck, and people of all sorts rushing around me. I got up and narrowly avoided being hit by a cab. I found myself crossing over F Street on 13th and then felt a rather odd sensation. Did I mention I’m wearing a wrap dress today?
The ties in the back had come undone and I was not only on my hands and knees 3 minutes earlier (to the untrained eye, I’m sure it looked as though I was praying to Allah), but now I was taking my clothes off a few blocks from the White House and showing my goods to the world.
Some days I can not control my coolness.
For the past 6 days, Mother Nature has either A) decided to play a trick on the east coast; or B) is just being vindictive for our constant abuse of the environment. I not only turned on the heat in my apartment, I also pulled out my winter hats, scarves, gloves, coats, thermal underwear, boots AND sweatpants. Don’t forget the umbrella since it’s been raining like Noah’s gonna show up. I even made chili and cornbread yesterday (both homemade, by the way… nothing from a can or box here).
It’s mid-October. AUGH. What happened to Fall?
And the best part about this bad weather… a little boy who was sitting behind me at church yesterday kept coughing (the wet, nasty kind of cough) in my hair. I wanted to turn around and scream, “Hey… Typhoid Mary! Back off!” but he was only 5, so I just kept shooting the father dirty looks.
So cold, wet and now possibly sick. Again. Awesome.
Due to my need to make a serious dent in my Christmas shopping (and the fact that I could see my breath), I put my Philadelphia trip on hold until spring. Rather than traipsing through the cold to see historic sites and wacky museums, I stayed home and I took a friend to lunch. FYI: I am now no longer curious about Vietnamese sausage.
While I can’t give you details about the goodies I purchased (some of the recipients are my loyal followers), just be aware that I’m a damn good shopper and bargain hunter. I hope some people weep… THAT’S my goal: a gift so good that someone actually sheds a tear or two. Maybe if no one cries, I really do hope to hear a deep gasp for breath followed by, “Wha? Woah! Wow!!!” I know exactly who I want to hear that from, too.
Yes, I’m well aware of how self-serving my attitude is at the moment and that it’s not in line with the whole idea of giving and NOT receiving. But I never said anything about publishing MY Christmas list and raking it in. To be honest, I’d rather buy or make people stuff that they really want/need and then just sit back and watch. Man I’m getting old! It’s also my lame attempt to show the world I’m not as insensitive and heartless as I may seem.
But I’m about 2 1/2 months ahead of myself so let’s revisit yesterday: Columbus Day. Isn’t great working in a place where the city basically shuts down for ALL the federal holidays? Even the ones I don’t necessarily endorse? You bet!
I took my camera out to the GW Parkway and the Potomac River to capture the one season I truly missed while living in California: Fall.
I know my new winter hat is on sideways… you try taking photos will a bill poking out of your head and see what happens.
