Saturday, August 31, 2013

But I refuse to wear the miniskirt. I want some kickass black jeans, biker boots, and a sexy leather vest.

How can I have so much to say yesterday that I made three posts and today I can't get started?

I think it's the sugar rush. Yesterday was my last day at my old job. No more one hour (one way) commute! But I loved all my coworkers, they are really awesome. I'm going to miss them. We were a little family. They bought me cupcakes and a cookie cake for a going away present. I had a piece of cookie cake for breakfast and now I have...

SUGAR RUSH! OHMIGOD WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO TODAY OHMIGOD WE NEED TO CLEAN THE HOUSE NO I DON'T WANT TO WE'RE SUPPOSED TO HAVE A GIRLS DAY WITH THEDAUGHTER WE SHOULD GO FOR A BIKE RIDE WILL IT RAIN TODAY WE HAVE TO FOLD THE LAUNDRY OHMIGOD THEMAN SAVED US PIZZA FROM LAST NIGHT!!!!!!!!!

Well, this is what happens when you reduce your sugar intake for a long time and then eat chunk of cookie cake with purple icing flowers. Should've remembered that.


And now we must dance and sing. On the roof. Get me a band.
picture credit: Empire Records - Warner Bros.


Criminey, don't ever Google for images of "sugar rush" unless you want to see that shit. That is just wrong and evil. I was not expecting that.

Okay, I can't sit here anymore. I'll try to post again later. Hopefully I don't crash too hard and fall asleep.

Note to self: I need to buy a new copy of Empire Records.

Friday, August 30, 2013

C'mon, you'd buy that on a tee shirt, wouldn't you?


They need more work. I need to dig up one of my less frequently used sketch books, to get going on this.
Jane and Lefty

They need a whole lot more work.

Couch to 5K – Week 4, Day 3

First thing to note…I went out late today. On purpose, thinking I might like a later start time, but I did not enjoy it. Not doing that again.

Late for me means I went out at 7:45 am instead of 6:15 am. Do you know what is out there an hour and half later?
The sun. And people. Shudder.
The sun was well above the horizon. It’s the brightness that bothers me, not the heat. Yo, Helios, could you get your effin’ spotlight off me? I’m going blind here. Thanks. And what the hell are all these people doing out here in my space? 
And Helios replied, "Bitch, don't make me go medieval on your ass."
Picture credit: NASA



 “All these people” consists of maybe six or seven more cars passing me, two old guys riding around leisurely on their bikes, and various and sundry children walking and biking to the elementary and middle schools. No one actually spoke to me or got closer to me than about five feet, but their mere presence in my field of vision was annoying. I think I’m past introvert and into misanthrope territory with this attitude. Live and let live! Just don’t do it when I’m out on my run.
 
DIS MAH ROAD! YOU NO BE HERE!
Picture from: Chicago On The Aisle
 
I remembered to drink water and eat before I went out, so I did not splatter myself on the wall of exhaustion.  The second run segment (five minutes) felt really good: good breathing, warm muscles, only a bit of pulling in my shins. It felt sustainable. In those moments I felt like I might have been able to keep going at that pace for a mile. I didn’t do that though; I’m sort of terrified of breaking training and pushing myself into injury. A two mile non-stop run is scheduled for day three of week five. That’s next Thursday. It can wait.  Slow and steady wins the race (with myself).
Googling turtle tiger netted me this. Turtle tiger is an actual thing.
It's a sculpture named Tiger and Turtle and you can walk on it. It's in Germany.
picture credit: World Landscape Architecture 
 
 
Inner Bitch has dialed her attitude back a lot lately. Mostly she’s just trying to get me to do stuff I shouldn’t. She’s not Inner Bitch anymore so much as Inner Rebel. This I can handle. This is somewhat productive. Inner Rebel wants to run up Hwy 23. No. It’s too far. I will wear myself out and it will take gods know how long to limp home. I have chores to do today and I have to go to work tonight. Inner Rebel wants to run on that trail cutting through the field when I’m almost home. No, that is in the opposite direction of the house. I have laundry to do. Another day I will run on the trail. The trail is not going to disappear.

So now I have to eat something else, because I’m STARVING. And I have to do the laundry and yay! I have the latest episode of Copper saved to watch!

Friday 5 - Let's Get Personal (or Not)

Friday 5 time! I skipped last week’s because I didn’t have any good answers to the questions, but this week I think I can do it!
  1. What are you on?
On…a chair, which is on a floor, which is in a house in a small farm town in Illinois, in the United States of America, on the planet Earth!
 
I’m on the New Madrid Seismic Zone.  It's a prolific source for intraplate earthquakes!

I actually live a bit north of the main fault zone.
picture credit: USGS, public domain
 
I’m on the fourth decade of my current incarnation.
 
I’m on caffeine and nicotine, having had most of a large mug of coffee and four drags off an American Spirit cigarette - the brown box organic tobacco, thank you! Only the finest, most natural poison for me!
 
  1. What are you hiding?
What, me? Nothing! Well, maybe I’m hiding how terrified I am that I won’t be able to find a decent massage therapy job close to my new home. Because I don’t want to have all the life sucked out of me by constant driving just to make money. I want to have time and energy to write my stories.

Sh. I'm writing stories in my Ya Ya hat.
picture credit: www.mrwallpaper.com
 
  1. Who gets it when you go?
Gets what? Where am I going? Don’t touch my stuff!

Get away from my coffee and nicotine!
 
  1. What’s in your wallet?
All the usual wallet-type junk: Driver’s license, vehicle and medical insurance cards, bank cards, business cards, coins, a million receipts, and fortune cookie slips.

picture credit: asiaheritagefoundation.org
 

  1. What do you waste?
I won’t say time…I don’t really feel I truly waste time…but I do waste energy sometimes, worrying about things I can’t change, or feeling upset over something some assclown did. When I obsess over assclown activities, it’s the assclown that wins. So I try not to do that, as much as possible. That is energy wasted, in my opinion, and it’s my own fault.

I also occasionally waste money on food and drink bought in gas stations and other convenience places. Like the $26 I dropped at the concessions counter at the movies with DB and Dexter this past Tuesday. Normally I insist on going to Walgreens to get the candy before we go to the theater, but we were running late on time (it was either make the 12:00 show or we didn't get to see The World's End that day). I could've said no candy (then the total would've been $18.50 for the large popcorn and two medium drinks), but I didn't.

Because Simon Pegg and Nick Frost.
picture credit: www.calorielab.com

 

 

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Do you have to use dragons' eggs to make those pancakes?

Bike ride! I mapped it when I got home, 2.9 miles of mostly flat roads at a leisurely pace, fifteen minutes. That was fun! There’s just something so delicious about the freedom of a bike and feeling the wind rushing, blowing your hair back, knowing you’re going faster than your legs could possibly carry you. Eating up the distance like it’s nothing. My glutes and quads are still going to be feeling it…seriously, what is the deal with those tiny, tiny bike seats? But it’s nothing major. Just good tired muscles. Ah.

My good night reading right now is Dragon’s Egg by Robert L. Forward.
It is a hard science fiction novel, meaning yeah, that science is the hard shit. I don’t understand any of it. My eyes glaze over when I’m reading it, but there’s enough human interaction (meaning it feels like these are real people with real lives and hearts doing this science thinking and talk stuff) mixed in with the science explanations to make it palatable for me and then it gets to the alien bits and whee! Real, true alien bits!
 Picture credit: www.robertforward.com
 
I googled for images of a cheela, hoping some other geek artist fan had rendered the alien awesomeness…and found a bazillion pictures of Indian food. Because cheela means pancake, I believe. In Hindi. I think.
I see what you did there, Dr. Forward.
picture credit: Mharo Rajasthan's Recipes
Though the five different Hindi to English translators I tried before I got frustrated (I do have to leave for work soon) just told me cheela means cheela. And when I tried English to Hindi and put in pancake they gave me something written in Hindi, which surprisingly I can’t read.  So apparently I fail at working internet translator widgets.
If some kindly Hindi speaking person would like to educate me on these things I would be more than happy to learn. I want to be respectful. Also, if you have your own recipe for these delicious looking edible items, please do forward it.
I finally found a drawing of the cheela-as-alien-life-form at Alien Species Wiki. Thank you, fellow geeks!

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Should I worry that there's less to worry about?

I'm wondering if I should be more concerned about the fact that I'm not sore after my runs. Does it mean I'm not pushing myself hard enough?

I know this is kind of silly. Worrying about lack of pain. But I won't get better (stronger, faster, what have you...) if I don't push myself out of my comfort zone. I'm referring specifically to muscle pain here, the "good" pain you get from a workout. Not joint pain. I have a little joint pain, but it fades quickly.

I really did think I was going to have a lot more trouble with the Couch to 5K. And while each new week presents a difficulty, it just doesn't hurt like I thought it would.  I'm being careful about knee and ankle pain especially, I don't want to have to fall back if it's not necessary. I thought I would be in a lot more pain. And I'm just not. It's part of the reason I feel I should be doing a different kind of exercise on my off days, because building myself up means a certain amount of breaking down first. Right? It's just the way it is.

Is the program just that awesome? Am I just in better shape than I thought? Or do I need to push harder?


This picture of Simon Pegg has nothing to do with running.
He's just adorable.
I've been looking it up, how much pain should be normal. In the links I'm finding, everyone is having pain and there's lots of talk of what's normal pain and what's injury pain. No one seems to be asking about having no pain. Am I just doing everything correctly? I'm confused!

Couch to 5K - Week 4, Day 2 and another in the series of things you don't see everyday in Illinois.

I felt a bit tired starting out this morning but its six am and I’m awake. I always feel a bit tired. After my pre-walk and my stretching I start the first three minute segment and I’m hit full force with a goddamn WALL of exhaustion. WTF? I went to bed early last night! How the hell is this making me so damn tired? 

Is this a (dum-dum-DUM) BAD RUN? Fuck it. Slow down to a shuffle, push through. I am not in any actual physical pain; I’m just tired, push through. Push through the walk, the second run segment, the second walk.
Into the third run segment, I realize. I get it. I SEEEEE. I remember something else I read in Jim2B’s Good Run/Bad Run post, from the list of things that contribute to a good run. Things I have not done today.  I’ve only had coffee to drink this morning and I haven’t eaten anything, not even a piece of toast. Now what would I say to massage therapy client who told me they trained like that?
I’d politely advise that’s not the wisest idea, because chastising clients is not therapeutic. Also, any and all advice on nutrition and exercise is “outside my scope of practice”.
But when I make the realization for my own training I say to myself, “Eedjit! What the hell are you thinking? Well, obviously you weren’t thinking. Don’t do that again.” So I won’t go for my exercise unhydrated and unfueled again, because damn, that was just unfun.
So…yesterday was a day. I went in to the DMV and waited an hour and a half to get my name and address changed on my license. The DMV lady did me a solid which I won’t explain because it’s long and boring, but technically I feel I owe a favour to the nice DMV lady now. Hopefully it won't require my first born son or my immortal soul...those are already spoken for. I got my name and address changed on my license and my voter’s registration and my address changed on my vehicle registration. Later I went online and changed my name and address on my car insurance. Things are slowly turning over.
This was not the monk I saw,
but this is type of habit he was wearing.
I saw a Buddhist monk buying a flat of Redbull in Podunkville, IL. I was a bit astounded. I really, really wanted to take a picture, because how often do you see that? Here? It’s not very often. I’ve gone forty-two years and today was the first time I’d ever seen a Buddhist monk, much less one paying for Redbull.  I wasn’t sure I was even seeing him correctly. When he left the store and I put down my drink to pay for it I said to the lady behind the counter, “I wonder if that was a Buddhist monk?” and she said, “Yep. They have a place near here.” So there’s that.

 
 
 
 
 
I took DB and Dexter to the movie theater and we saw The World’s End. It was as amazingly hilarious and wonderful as I thought it would be, because Simon Pegg and Nick Frost and all the others in the wonderful ensemble cast. Simon Pegg is a peach. As the credits rolled, Dexter remarked, “Well, there’s hope for modern cinema.” Because my kid is a badass. DB and I agreed with him. Thank god for the British.

 Now I have to run, because I'm late as usual. Well, not late. I'll get to work in plenty of time, but I prefer to be early. I'm late for being early.

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

A little bit means a lot.

The stupid number on the stupid scale has gone up again.

Just a couple of pounds.

Why is it so important? Aren't I feeling pretty okay?

I want the stupid number to go down. I'm not eating sugar. I'm eating lots of vegetables. Raw vegetables. I'm watching my portions. I'm watching my fat intake. I'm drinking water.

I really have to find my tape measure. I have four of the damn things, why can I not find a single one of them?

The stupid number is important because it's a type of concrete evidence. Yes, all my hard work is working. My willpower is worth something. My discipline is worth something. I want the jiggly, orange-peel skin to GO AWAY. Logic tells me I'm getting stronger and faster, because I did my Week four training yesterday just like I was supposed to and I'm not hurting today. But somehow I can't make that particular concrete fact mean as much as the number on the scale.

The tape measure would show that too. So where the fuck are my fucking tape measures?

And before I weighed myself this morning? I wanted to go on a bike ride. After weighing myself, seeing that the number had gone up? I felt defeated. Like...it's not helping, so why do it? Stay home and be lazy.

Well, I can't stay home anyway. I have to get ready to go get my new license and then drive an hour to pick up the boys for their driving lessons and see The World's End. Because fuck you, scale, I'm having fun today whether you like it or not.
Property of whoever it's belongs too. I'm too annoyed to look it up.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Week Four, Day One - Couch to 5K and more things that are things.

Couch to 5K – Week Four, Day One

This week’s sequence: Jog 3 minutes/walk 90 seconds, jog 5 minutes/walk 2 min 30 seconds, jog 3 minutes/walk 90 seconds, jog 5 minutes.
Today’s mindset: I’m okay. Not “ooh-rah” great, but definitely better than last week, when I felt like I was dragging myself through mud with weights strapped to my arms. I started out feeling, “okay, let’s get this done,” and ended feeling, “hey, I did it!” So that’s good.
I did have to drop back down to shuffling (from jogging) during the first five minute segment and keep to shuffling during the remainder of the jogging segments, but I tacked on an extra three minute jogging segment at the end. That’s my personal “fuck you, low self-esteem, I win!”
Today was the first day I felt a serious amount of pulling in my calves (specifically soleus, it’s the lower part of the calf that becomes the Achilles tendon) when I was finished. Not pain, just my body telling me I need to stretch them longer, both before and after.
My awesome spirit-sister, B3, sent me a pair of Experia sports socks! I wore them today, wonderful padding without heating up my feet. Must have more!

This morning I also looked up nearby places for tandem skydiving. Yesterday my younger sister went for her first tandem skydive to celebrate her fortieth birthday. It’s something I had decided I wanted to do awhile ago, because I want to be Zee to be able to put real emotion into describing Joseph Kittinger’s freefall when she tells Micah about it. Seeing my sister’s video made it clear this to me this is something I have to do. Plus damn, that looks like fun. How is it I don’t like roller coasters, but skydiving looks fun? There’s a place very close to me, the Chicagoland Skydiving Center.

 

Skydiving also makes me think, "dirt in the skirt." I don't know why.
(Photo/Sports Illustrated) All American Girls Professional Baseball League

Now I just have to save for it, because the package I want will cost $420 at least. That’s if I booked it today, which I can’t do. Save more in case prices go up.
Okay, while looking for images of "dirt in the skirt," I found the Dirt In Your Skirt webpage, a thing I did not know was a thing. Here's the Mission Statement:

Explore. Conquer. Inspire.

Dirt in Your Skirt creates a supportive community to foster and encourage women to step out of their norm and explore new possibilities, conquer old fears, and inspire those around them with their daily actions. All in an effort to support a healthy active lifestyle in the process.
I'm down with that.

And now? I must steel my nerves for the trip to the social security office. An hour drive, however long waiting, and an hour drive back home. Just to get my name changed on my card. The things I do for an awesome last name. It's worth it. At least I’ll get some writing done while I’m there.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Things you didn't know you didn't know.

I didn't know E.B. White was a man.


E. B. White
E. B. White was the author of the beloved children's book Charlotte's WebThe girl child part was written so well, was so accessible and believable, that I assumed White was a female. Silly me. A good author knows the human condition, the miniature human condition even. A good author is observant enough, intelligent enough, empathetic enough, to write any part, if they are willing to go there.

I also did not know this White was the same White that co-authored The Elements of Style.

See, you CAN learn something new everyday! You just have to try.

I need a copy of The Elements of Style.






Mr. White was seems to have been an introvert too.
Most of us, out of a politeness made up of faint curiosity and profound resignation, go out to meet the smiling stranger with a gesture of surrender and a fixed grin, but White has always taken to the fire escape. He has avoided the Man in the Reception Room as he has avoided the interviewer, the photographer, the microphone, the rostrum, the literary tea, and the Stork Club. His life is his own. He is the only writer of prominence I know of who could walk through the Algonquin lobby or between the tables at Jack and Charlie's and be recognized only by his friends.
— James Thurber, E. B. W., "Credos and Curios"

And now for something slightly different, I have decided I should read some current science fiction magazines.

I've never enjoyed writing short stories. They are an effort for me. The one college level course I've took that required me to write short stories was difficult; I feel like I have to make the story instead of the story making itself.  I just don't enjoy the short story form. I've never had characters come to me in snack sizes. My characters invite me in for five course meals. But I think I ought to at least try short stories.

I'm going to start with one magazine. I've ordered a six month subscription to Asimov's Science Fiction.

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Bad day.

No reason for it. Just a bad day. Just a day that hurts and makes me want to cry even though nothing bad happened. I can't make my brain stop being unhappy right now and I don't want to go on for thirty minutes about how I feel bad for no reason, so no post today.

I offer Elmore Leonard's Ten Rules for Good Writing instead. I'd never heard of this guy before a few days ago, when I was listening to NPR and they said he'd died. They mentioned "ten rules of writing," but they only named one of them...number 10 is "try to leave out the part that people skip." And so I'm leaving out the part where I whine in print.

The list below is copied from the link above. I did not write any of the below bit.
  1.  Never open a book with weather.
  2.  Avoid prologues.
  3.  Never use a verb other than "said" to carry dialogue.
  4.  Never use an adverb to modify the verb "said”…he admonished gravely.
  5.  Keep your exclamation points under control. You are allowed no more than two or three per 100,000 words of prose. 
  6.  Never use the words "suddenly" or "all hell broke loose."
  7.  Use regional dialect, patois, sparingly.
  8.  Avoid detailed descriptions of characters.
  9.  Don't go into great detail describing places and things.
  10.  Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.
 My most important rule is one that sums up the 10.
 If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it. -- Excerpted from the New York Times article, “Easy on the Adverbs, Exclamation Points and Especially Hooptedoodle”

Friday, August 23, 2013

Couch to 5K - Week Three, Day Three

The Waterman Gobbler Gallop 5K route goes right past my house.

Now, I'm not really interested in doing a 5K just so I can say I did a 5K. But I am interested in using the map of the route for my later weeks of training.

Today's entry is not so encouraging. If you have self-esteem issues it might be a trigger for you. Just so you know.

I did NOT want to go out this morning. This was not mere grumbling. There was hardly any grumbling, because I did not have energy for grumbling. I only had energy for dragging myself through my repetitions. I did three repetitions, as I have the past two days, but I did not like it. I did not feel any exhilaration. I felt like I was dragging myself through mud with weights strapped to my arms.  I felt (and still feel right now) fat. When I got home I just wanted to go back to bed. I dragged myself through my stretches.

Obviously I have found a reserve of energy somewhere, because here I am on the computer typing up my training log instead of lying in bed where I want to be.  I think the desire to whine in public has trumped my desire to lie still.

Why am I so damn tired? I went to bed early last night. I ate my vegetables. I ate all my meals.

The number on the scale has crept up a couple of pounds this week despite my good eating and exercising properly. Good eating and more exercise are supposed to mean less weight and more energy. My clothes still fit fine and I even tried on a smaller size work pants on yesterday's shopping trip (almost there, but not quite) and my brain knows all about the fat/muscle comparison thing...but my brain has also been trained for a long time to see that number on the scale as the be all, end all and it's not going down. I know I'm being illogical. Today I just want the stupid number to go down.

Robert E. Howard
This man wrote Pigeons From Hell.
Boo, yeah.
Thank god I don't have to go to work until three pm. I have a new movie to watch. The Whole Wide World, with Vincent D'Onofrio and Renee Zellweger. Based on a true story, the romance of Robert E. Howard and Novalyne Price. I found it at the Walgreens the other day, a day when I decided to make a right turn where I usually go straight, which is very unlike me. I tend to be uncomfortable deviating from a known route. I wasn't sure if I remembered exactly where the Walgreens was, but I needed tampons. So I found it and I found this movie too.  It's a story I'd never heard, about a person I didn't know anything about...but should, as he's considered the father of the sword and sorcery subgenre of fantasy fiction.

So there's that.

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons...

I don't have thirty minutes left this morning to write, so let's choose a random photo to post, shall we? Yes, we shall.

Let sleeping dogs and dragon babies lie...
Years from now, when DB is a famous actor, this picture will be famous too. Taken around 2002 or  2003 if I remember correctly.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

This "being a girl" thing...

Couch to 5K – Week 3, Day 2

Today is the second day of two repetitions of 90 sec running/90 sec walking/3 min running/3 min walking.
Last night I was very much looking forward to running this morning. This morning…not so much. Despite seven hours of sleep I was exhausted for most of the day. I’m fairly sure it’s my period dragging me down.

But I did it, I went out. I put on my new coral pink running shoes. No, not the Vibram Five Fingers I wanted. These were just thirty dollar shoes from Target. But they are lighter and roomier than my other shoes, which I was also using for work. They feel cooler too, like they have better air flow. I wanted a pair of shoes just for running.
 
 

So out I go, grumbling about having to do the warm-up walk, grumbling about stretching. At that point I kind of felt, “I just want to get it over with for today.” But I did the warm-up and the stretching anyway. Then I head up Garfield St. and back down. I notice I’m breathing harder. It’s because I’m moving faster. Should I slow down? I’m not really moving that fast, but faster than before, and without even thinking about it. Because my shins aren’t dragging me down as much as they were before. I don’t feel like my muscles are clenched as much; I don’t have to remind myself to bring my joints into alignment as often. Hey…you know what? I think…I think…I’m actually jogging. Not shuffling…JOGGING. As in, almost actually running! And it doesn’t hurt! It’s a bit uncomfortable, but it doesn’t hurt.
I did three repetitions and walked home and felt pretty darn good, both mentally and physically.
The exhaustion came back though. Stupid menstrual flow, ruining my endorphin high.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Who is a real writer? Or should that be whom?

From there to here, and here to there, funny things are everywhere.

I had to write that sentence three times before I realized I'd misspelled "here" as "hear". And I just edited the post to correct "right" to "write".

All over the interwebs you can find writerly advice, from the serious (yet funny):

Are You a "Real" Writer? Is This Even the Correct Question? - Kristen Lamb's Blog

To the hilarious (and entirely correct):

How and why to use whom in a sentence. - The Oatmeal

I knew I was a "REAL" writer when I accidentally closed out of a half-finished blog post and felt physical and mental pain like I hadn't felt since I lost the stone out of my engagement ring. But I buckled up, buttercup, pulled on my big-girl panties, and put on my "I am a queen; I got this shit handled," crown. I opened up Word (where I should've been typing in the first place) made some notes, saved my remaining links, and resolved to rewrite it.

This blog may look like a silly bit of posturing to get my funny on, but it's also my first step in being a published writer, writing fiction books for a living. It's my discipline. I may be starting late, but goddamn it, I'm starting. I write every day at least half an hour.  Even the shorties are half an hour of writing, if my anxiety is high it sometimes takes me that long to drag a few sentences out of my brain. If I truly haven't spent half an hour I'll make a second entry that day. It's getting to the point where if I don't write I feel jumpy with pent up mental energy, like an athlete who hasn't trained. But as a mental athlete, I don't have to take a rest day! Yay! My brain doesn't get injured from overuse!

I do need to find out if I'm over using commas. That's kind of important.

I will publish. If it takes me the rest of my damn life I will publish. I'll do it for the trousers, steeds, and bourbon. I'll let Matt keep the monocles and mustaches.

It's possible I didn't grasp the full meaning of The Oatmeal's post, but what the hell.. I'm having fun.


They were out of steeds, so they gave me this nifty car.

Tuesday is "self-pity" day. Every day is "miss my sons" day.

Today I need to drive up to see my sons and give them both a driving lesson.

I miss my sons. I miss them a lot. I worry about them and miss them and miss them and miss them.
I do not feel capable, today, of going into the 5 Ws. I just miss them and worry and miss them.
Once a week driving lesson is not enough for them to learn driving. But there’s more that goes with that story too.
And I miss them.
I want to be able to be there for them, make sure they eat, make sure they feel supported, motivated, loved. I want to be able to watch SFDebris with them. I miss them.
So this is not much of a daily writing exercise, because all I can say today is I miss my sons.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Want to be like Zee...

While I am happy with my C25K accomplishments thus far, I would not be me if I didn't want more.

I want to be faster.

I know that endurance and strength is more important. I know that avoiding injury is most important.

Damn it, I still want to be faster.

I know that speed will increase with strength and endurance. I know this takes time. Especially because I am a 42 year old woman with diminished lung capacity and beta thalassemia minor who hasn't run on a regular basis since I was 19 years old.

Damn, damn, damn. I want to be faster NOW.

Sigh. I want to be like Zee.

Yeah, dipshit, Zee is an imaginary character in your HEAD. She runs easily because she has always run easily. And because she's imaginary! She doesn't get injured or worried or anxious unless the plot calls for it.

Looking up pictures of running redheads to cheer myself up.


Yes. You go, pigtail girl!


No. Not this.


Yes.

Double yes.
http://cautionredheadrunning.blogspot.com/

Dafuq, Google?

I love Pippi.

Oh, honey. We talked about this outfit.

http://wunderohana.wordpress.com/


I want to feel like this.
I am tiger woman! Hear me rawr!
Right now I feel more like this.
"I haz feetz! Wat I do wif dem?"

We now return you to your regularly scheduled schedule. I'm going to go take a bath and eat lunch. A tiger lunch!




C25K - Week Three, Day One

Couch to 5K – Week three, Day one

I want to get going and yet I don’t. What is that about?
Today starts (at least) two repetitions 90 seconds running/90 seconds walking – 3 minutes running/3 minutes walking.
I went out without music again today. My brain and body are still far too over stimulated by the past weekend. Four hours of a very crowded renaissance faire in the heat on Saturday (nearly four hours of driving total there and back again), a grocery shopping trip on Sunday morning followed by a trip to the farm for dinner with TheMan’s mom Sunday afternoon (left at 1:30 pm and didn’t get home until 9:30 pm). That’s a very full weekend for an extreme introvert like me. No music this morning.
Things went well. I didn’t feel the extreme exhilaration I felt on Saturday morning but I did feel a happy sense of accomplishment at being able to do three repetitions of the training schedule.  About the time I got back to the driveway my shins finally stopped that pulling feeling – which I think means they were finally adjusted and could’ve gone further, but my left hip was putting up a tiny protest. No pain, just a bit of pulling that said, “Don’t push it.” And well, I was at the driveway.
Now I’m starving! And I have to walk TheDaughter to school in about ten minutes, that’s bonus walking!
Today is an inside day, a recharge day. An all to myself day. Except for having to go out later and get sandwich meat and cheese which I forgot to purchase Sunday morning. But other than that it’s all for me.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Handmade soap, earrings, and sweater coats - becoming a warrior has somehow made me want "girly" things. How does that work?


Staring, staring, staring at the blank page on my screen. What to write about? Yesterday’s trip to the Bristol Renaissance Faire? I lost the soap I bought. It fell out of the top of my bag. A bar of Ocean and a bar of Dragon’s Blood.  I was highly annoyed. I’d been looking forward to using that soap. But fortunately it was just the soap and not my wallet, which I had purposefully shoved to the bottom of my bag under everything else. I found the vendor’s online store so I can get the soap again if I want.

While I was at the faire I thought I might get some tiger’s eye earrings to celebrate my victory of five minutes and 12 seconds of non-stop shuffling. I couldn’t find a pair that called to me though. I only want to buy them if they sing to me. Honestly, while tiger’s eye is a beautiful stone, I prefer ocean jasper. I was looking on Etsy this morning and found a beautiful set of ocean jasper earrings that I’m thinking about. I like the simplicity, the oval shape, the gorgeous mottled, silver-grey color. I’ll think about it awhile longer. I haven’t worn earrings (or any jewelry really) on a consistent basis in a very long time. I don’t want to buy something just because it’s pretty. I want to actually wear it.

Speaking of Etsy, have you seen Katwise Creations? Freakin’ gorgeous recycled sweater coats. Everytime she posts a batch of coats they sell out in minutes. There was a booth at faire yesterday selling coats of this style. I’m thinking about getting Katwise’s tutorial for making my own coat. Then I can have just the color’s I like. I’d need to buy a serger sewing machine, but I’ve been wanting one anyway. I love making costumes and clothes and serged edges add strength to a garment, as well as possible decorative features.  Below is an example of the coats she makes. I really love the tied waist on this one, but I'd want different colors. Maybe ocean colors.
This photo does not belong to me. I put it up here to better sing the praises of Katwise Creations.
Go forth and look at her awesomeness on Etsy!
 

Saturday, August 17, 2013

C25K- Week two, Day three - Is this those endorphins I heard tell about?

Couch to 5K: Week two, Day three

Before Run:
I have to go out and do my run. I'm finding it very, very hard to get my butt motivated today. I know I will be fine once I'm out there. But I just don't wanna. This is a sort of faux exhaustion I get with my time of the month.

I know I have to push through it or I will only feel worse if I don't go out. I remind myself that I have lost 24.6 pounds since February and the running pushed me off the plateau I had reached. I remind myself I want to keep building muscle and endurance. I remind myself that I am going to the Bristol Renn faire today and will selectively indulge in treats so I need the running.

I remind myself how much harder it will be to go out tomorrow morning if I skip today. I remind myself I am not truly sick and I will feel better when I'm done with the run (this is from personal experience, I promise I'm not pushing myself too hard). Okay. I'm gonna go get ready now. Grumble, grumble, grumble.

Post Run:
Before I start let me just say….Yes!! I am awesome! Okay, let’s return to the grumpiness of before the run, to set the mood.
I didn’t want music today. I didn’t want to fuss with cords and today the idea of music annoyed me for some reason. I started out an hour later than usual and the sun was already up. Fuck you, sun! Stop shining! You’re hurting my eyes!
Inner Bitch, sensing hesitation and weakness and knowing that time of the month (the week of my menstrual flow) is HER time, put in a protest after being a no-show for Thursday’s run. “I don’t wanna do this! Let’s go home!” I ignore her.
I do my five minute walk and stop to stretch. My current route is mostly straight up and back a road named Garfield, an infrequently used road at the back of the half-built subdivision in the neighborhood. The subdivision development stopped when the economy died, so there’s a number of open lots on this road and across the street is a field with mounds of dirt grown over with grass. There’s an unpaved track cutting through the field where I’ve stopped to stretch.
“Hey,” says Inner Bitch.  ”Where does that go? Where does it go, let’s see!”
Well, I guess she’s good for something. “Another day,” I tell her. “Another day, settle down and another day we’ll follow it.”
Run(shuffle)/walk, run(shuffle)/walk, run(shuffle)/walk…to the end of Garfield. The road tees into Hwy 23, where if you turn left you’ll be heading north to the nearest large town. A vista stretches out, cornfields and countryside as far as the eye can see. The sun is shining off the mist still overlying the cornfields. I feel like goddamn Rocky at the top of the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. I enjoy this feeling for several seconds and now we turn around.
Like this, but without getting my ass handed to me by Apollo Creed later.
Run(shuffle)/walk all they way back down Garfield until I reach the required twenty minutes. I always do a run segment at the end of the time, even if I’m done with the twenty minutes, just because I like ending with the running bit.
So I start the last run segment and you know what? I think I feel pretty good. The 90 seconds passes and body check? Yep, still feel pretty good, let’s see if we can reach that sign…pass the sign…still feeling good? You can stop anytime you need. Let’s see if we can reach the corner. Pass the corner. Still okay? You sure? No pain? I think I could do this for awhile. Want to try to reach the driveway? You can stop anytime you need, you did the twenty minutes. No pain? Okay…let’s see if we can reach the driveway…
Five minutes and twelve seconds of sustained shuffling! Five minutes and twelve seconds! I am a goddamn warrior!
I am the eye of the tiger! Fear me!
 
 

Friday, August 16, 2013

Friday Five: The Person Who...


Since I’m not feeling any word flow yet today, let’s do the Friday Five!
  1. At a business establishment you patronize regularly, what might the employees refer to you as, when they speak of you behind your back?
It's true.
Hm. Tough…I try hard to be invisible, so I can observe as much as possible without being a creeper about it. The only place I frequent on a regular basis that the employees might remember me is the Starbucks that is one store over from the massage clinic at which I work. I don’t order any one drink too often, so I can’t  be identified by that. I don’t think they talk about me once I walk out the door, honestly. At least I hope not. I used to work at a different Starbucks and we generally only discussed the really difficult customers. I try to always be polite, knowing how it is to work in the service industry as I do. Maybe “that nice therapist”?
 
 
 

  1. Similarly, at your places of employment, current and/or past, what do either the patrons or brand-new employees who don’t remember your name yet probably refer to you as?
You’re making this one set hard on me. I don’t know. I have really curly hair, but it’s usually all pinned up for sessions, so it’s hard to tell it’s curly. If a client wants the same therapist he or she had last time, or two sessions before, but can’t remember the name the front desk assistants can just look it up. So the clients don’t really have to remember.
Maybe the other employees might say I’m quiet, because I am when I first meet someone new.
 

  1. Aliens have come to earth to observe families and take notes. If each member of your family is listed as the one who __________, which are you? (bonus question: what are the others in your family written down as?)
Not an actual picture of my family.
We're much worse.
Me: The Watcher (or The Reader or The Writer, depending on when they observe)
DB: The Political One
Dexter: The Artistic One
TheMan: The Fixer
TheDaughter: The Friendly One
 
 
  1. You meet someone you had a crush on in high school, someone who didn’t know you felt that way (let’s say you meet him or her in the grocery store and that the snow is falling Christmas Eve…). He or she doesn’t remember your name, but does remember you. How are you cataloged in this old crush’s memory?
This Star Trek novel is far more interesting
than conjugating French verbs.
Brownie points to the Question Maker, I LOVE that song. I really don’t think anyone from high school who wasn’t in my very small social circle remembers me. But if by happenstance they did, I could only assume I would be “That quiet girl who read books during lectures.”
 
 
 
 


  1. If a hobby of yours were to have some kind of club, and if the other club members only knew you by your particular preferences, styles, or behaviors in that hobby, how would they refer to you?
Heh. This one is easy. I’m wearing the shirt right now! “Geek Mom”
And damn proud of it.