Perpetually crazy

My friend and co-worker Mike, who I met a handful of months back while working on the Loppet, happened to somehow stumble across my blog the other day…and then he told me about it.  What’s funny about this is that Mike only kinda knows me, only kinda knows a piece of me.

It actually made me wonder what comes across when people happen to fall onto these pages.  What do they see? How do I and my blog posts actually differ from each other or don’t they?

So I went back to take a look and reread some of the stuff I have scrawled down over the past six years.

Realization #1:  Good lord I have been jotting down my inane daily escapes for a while.

Realization #2:  I am so glad I have a chronicle of my kids “little-hood”, my dad’s death and life in general as it has ebbed and flowed and changed through the years.

Realization #3:  I thought I had just recently taken on an overly competitive athletic bent, I honestly did not think I had been this crazy for so long.  No seriously, I read this blog post and was totally taken aback at the fact that I had Boston marathon aspirations in 06.

And just in case you are wondering, I am totally going to smoke the 2006 Mary at the 2011 Boston Marathon.

If you pierced something, what would it be?

Yesterday afternoon, I picked up Erika and we headed to St. Sabrina’s to pick out her belated birthday present, a new nose ring (actually a ball).  The previous year we spent time in there getting it re-pierced after years of it being closed.

Since the tiny piece of jewelry had fallen out a few weeks ago and she didn’t want me trying to shove it back in her nose, we got to sit and enjoy the people watching at St. Sabrina’s for quite some time before we were escorted to the back room to get it reinserted.  And let me tell you…you would NEVER imagine who gets what pierced where.

We heard it all and I really should have taken photos of everyone, posted them and created a sort of match the photo to the piercing game.  That would have been fun.  Instead, I’ll give you a quick and dirty run down and you can try to guess.

Here are your choices: eyebrow, labia, nose, penis, tongue, nipple, belly button, ankle or ear.

Answers are on the bottom.

1.  Blond 16 year old, not old enough to be there alone.   She is in with her mom and older sister and describing the piercings her friends on dance-line have all the while signing, “Mom, IT IS JUST SOOOOOOO CUUUUUUTE!”.  She was clearly the “cute” sister and the other older sister was either thinking her younger sibling was really stupid for doing this or wishing she had the balls to pull it off.

2.  The 62 year old male who looks like your old math teacher.  He has gray hair, glasses, khakis and a Mr. Roger’s cardigan on.  It looks like you could really trust him with Algebraic equations.

3.  The mid 40’s couple.  We couldn’t really tell if the woman was undergoing a sex change or not, but she was all dolled up in over the knee fuck me boots, sheer floral tights, a very short black knit dress and a leather jacket.  Her man was just a regular looking salt and peppered guy in workout pants.  She knew these people by name and was looking for her new piercing to match her pre existing ones.  They were either going to have a lot of fun tonight or they were going to be in a lot of pain.

4.  Late 30 year old gal, dressed head to toe in black (not goth, just urban) with grey striped tights and a cane that supported the limp in her gate.  I couldn’t tell if she was going to mess someone up with that cane or not.  Although, she was also in getting a fix on a botched finger tattoo and hopefully PEACE written on her other hand.

5.  The EMT, dressed in her uniform straight from work.  She must have been about 25, pink cheeked and ready to save the next guy who was going to have a stroke.  She looked too fresh to be part of this group and when I looked at her the song from Sesame Street (One of these things is not like the other) started playing in my head.

ok

time

to

guess

Answers:

1.  dangling bedazzled belly button piercing.  2.  left nipple-he made it VERY clear the barbell needed to match the right.  3.  Lots of conferencing went on with this couple:  woman-2 additional labia piercings, man-starts with a P.  4.  eyebrow  5.  nose

How many did you get right?

How many days…

does it take to have your French Press broken by one of your small children.

23!

BooHoo.

My new hot sweet love

I have fallen in love with a thing.  That thing is a French Press.

My coffee maker broke one morning when I was up at 5 am working and I have sent it off to get fixed.  No coffee at 5am = no good for me.  By mid afternoon that day, there was a French Press in my hot little hands. I’m not sure I have ever enjoyed coffee as much as I have this past week.

So in honor of my little lovely Frechie, here is a haiku, because who doesn’t like writing haiku’s?

Dawn sky breaks early

Slow thoughts dribble through my head

You are steaming strength

Write one, about anything, it’s fun.

To all those who have loved and lost

Back when I was 15 or so I was dumped real hard like, twice by the same guy. Both dump-a-roos, for the SAME girl. I know, tragic! Funny enough, she had curly brown hair and big lips…but she was a lot softer spoken, dare I say, nice.

For everyone who has been kicked to the curb in their life, you’re better for it.

There are two videos, take your pick.

Cee Lo Green “Fuck You”
Uploaded by Push36. – See the latest featured music videos.

Cee Lo Green – Fuck You
Uploaded by Warner-Music. – See the latest featured music videos.

Antsy feelings

The sink was left, filled with dishes, ALL day yesterday.  Needless to say, by the time I got around to getting them into the dishwasher, there were little ants crawling all around the kitchen counter and sink.

I am pretty sure God has a great plan for ants, but whenever I encounter them, either in an enormous ant hill in the yard or crawling on my counter tops in search of great sweet things I immediately go straight for the jugular.

Now I’m not a killer of animals and I am pretty environmentally conscious but ants, ants I will kill and I get a sick sort or pleasure pouring out the TERRO onto the little paper card and watching them march in, eat their fill and then march home to spread the joy to everyone else in the colony.

This pouring of TERRO usually commences by me saying,”Come here my pretties” and is followed by a very very wicked cackle.

Crab-tab-u-lous

I’ve hit it.  Whatever “it” is, I smacked into it two days ago and it has not let go.

The past three days have got me in a place I question if I will be able to crawl out of.  That’s bullshit actually, I’ll crawl out, it’s just not pretty and very dark in there.  It’s not like I’m dying of cancer, I have CHOSEN to train for an ironman.  What was I expecting, a picnic?

The week started fine enough with a 35 mile ride and a 3 mile run (this is where Adam says I sound like his dad replaying his golf game–let’s talk Den).

Tuesday morning’s track workout got aborted due to childcare issues, so I had to do it at 3pm, when it was BLAZING hot.  Once I was on the third of 8 800’s at the track, I decided it was not smart to continue (the temp gauge in my shoe read 104 degrees) on the black track of death.

Wednesday was a 2 mile swim, which went fine and then a 60 ride.

Many months ago, Jon rode with us and spoke of his “pain cave”.  The place where you get to when it hurts so bad you don’t want to continue, but you have to, so you find a happy place and try to live in the cave and hopefully then it passes.  Well, I am pretty sure, in that 60 mile ride, that I bought a pain cave, lived in it, remodeled it, had a family in it and then sold it for another better pain cave all by mile 54.

I seriously crushed my 100 mile ride last week and crumbled on 60 this week.

Today, due to the fact I did not finish my 8×800’s (which I will reattempt next week), I got to do an 8 mile time trial run down by the river.  So for me, the goal was to run an average pace of 7:30’s or so.  THIS IS HARD WORK FOR ME PEOPLE.  Again, I had child care issues, so had to do it later in the day, thank God it was cooler and slightly breezy BUT when I came to the half way point (this tt is timed and then posted and then you race against yourself again later) there was construction on the way back, which brought me off track and out of the way on a detour.

I decided to stop to figure out how to get back (which totally screwed my time and rendered the tt useless), then I limped along wondering if I would ever get back, then I got back on track and THEN I decided to try to haul it home (darkness, should I keep going or not, does it really matter or not, who cares it’s totally a waste because it’s not the same as last time is what was beating in my brain) only to be smacked in the face with a 20 mph head wind.  Needless to say, all that effort seemed like a waste.

So here I sit, crabby, exhausted, mean and nasty. Simply wondering what problems I will have on my 18 mile run tomorrow and how the hell I am going to finish 115 miles on my bike on Saturday.

Maybe I should just bring a little bit of the Windsor along, because THAT will help with hydration in this heat.

So very gratifying

Are you a picker?  You know, one of those people who like to pick zits or pick other peoples zits?

I’m not, just in case you were wondering.

But, that aside, I just bought a snake.  Not a snake that slithers around but a snake you put down your drain, deep into the bowels of your plumbing.

And let me tell you, I am sure I just got as equal of a high, when I pulled out the three inch long hair/soap/skank clog in my bathroom shower last night, as a picker does hitting the mirror with their popped zit.

Live’n the dream baby

One day last week, I asked one of the woman at the bus stop how she was doing.  You know when you start up a conversation with someone you don’t relaly know, you care but only a little.

Her response made me laugh, for so many reasons.  And then I said to her, I’m going to start using that.  For the past three days, whenever anyone asks me how I am, I respond, “Live’n the dream!”

Try it.  It makes those asking the question stop to think for a second about what you really just said and then it typically elicits a laugh.  Which is the best part of the whole deal.

Signature Line

I received an email thread today regarding refrigeration usage at one of the kid’s schools.  After I got through all the hoo-haa of the email, I found this on the signature line.

Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply.  Speak kindly.  Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.