Remember when I was all rah rah Marathon 2009? Those were good times. I ran 1.2 miles yesterday and it felt great. It's a start. Neither good nor bad, but a start.
I'm trying to be contemplative. There's really nothing to be contemplative about at the moment. Good time for me start reviving this blog again, right?
Check back tomorrow. Something good is bound to come up.
Showing posts with label miscellany. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miscellany. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
From the abyss
I don't plan on making a habit out of leaving a 7 month gap between posts. A week went by then two...before I knew it I caught myself saying "Didn't I used to have a blog?" and here we are. A lot has changed since last we spoke, most of it for the better. I'm getting my writing portfolio together and going through the daunting task of applying to MFA programs, both in the US and abroad. And by abroad I mean the UK and Australia. I'm not sure what it is that makes me feel the need to uproot myself and spend large amounts of time in other countries for no good reason. I figure if I'm going to move for a graduate program, I'm going to move BIG. I suppose Edinburgh (again) or London or Adelaide or Melbourne would be pretty big moves, yah?
In other news, I'm employed again. When people ask what I do I try really hard not to say "I'm a receptionist. I don't do jack" because that sort of makes me sound like an idiot. But really, I don't to jack. I mean, work-wise. I read plenty of books, write papers, play around on facebook, you know, get the important stuff done. Then at 5 o'clock I pack my stuff up and go home to read books, write papers and play around on facebook. You may be thinking to yourself "that sounds really boring. Is she nuts?" and yes. Yes I am. If you've read my blog before this shouldn't come as much of a a surprise.
Running is non-existent. Thiswill must change.
In other news, I'm employed again. When people ask what I do I try really hard not to say "I'm a receptionist. I don't do jack" because that sort of makes me sound like an idiot. But really, I don't to jack. I mean, work-wise. I read plenty of books, write papers, play around on facebook, you know, get the important stuff done. Then at 5 o'clock I pack my stuff up and go home to read books, write papers and play around on facebook. You may be thinking to yourself "that sounds really boring. Is she nuts?" and yes. Yes I am. If you've read my blog before this shouldn't come as much of a a surprise.
Running is non-existent. This
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Nothing exciting.
It's late on Sunday night and I'm trying to gear myself up for the week ahead. I wasn't able to run at all last week, ahem, I should correct that. I didn't run at all last week. It's difficult for me to get my butt out the door when my schedule is so cattywhampus and running is not my highest priority. However, I'm still on my health kick and feeling much better as a result of that. My insides feel clean, if that makes any sense.
I recently made another impulsive bike purchase, only this time it was only $30 and it's a road bike. Wahooooo! Riding it really makes me think about doing a triathlon someday, something that would have been ridiculous on my 1972 Schwinn Suburban. Even if it is schweet, it's not ideal for road racing. This new one is. I've been zipping all over town this week on it. You may have seen me go zooooom because it's that fast. Now my house has more bikes than people. Hee hee.
So to the land of dreams I go. Another week over and a new one just begun.
I recently made another impulsive bike purchase, only this time it was only $30 and it's a road bike. Wahooooo! Riding it really makes me think about doing a triathlon someday, something that would have been ridiculous on my 1972 Schwinn Suburban. Even if it is schweet, it's not ideal for road racing. This new one is. I've been zipping all over town this week on it. You may have seen me go zooooom because it's that fast. Now my house has more bikes than people. Hee hee.
So to the land of dreams I go. Another week over and a new one just begun.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Slack
I wish I had better numbers to report for this week but I just don't. Plain as that. Lots of biking but that's implied by now, right? That's my main mode of transportation so...yeah. Lots of biking.
My excuse for this week is that I had family in town visiting: my cousin, her little baby girl and my aunt. They are a lot of fun and I spent more time with an 11 month old than I think I ever have in my life. Seeing her almost makes me want to have babies of my own. Almost.
School continues to rock my socks. My writing professor is giving us lots of prompts and mine yesterday was a prescription bottle. This is what came out of my noggin:
Prescription bottles always remind me of my grandfather. I have 12 medications of my own that I take every day, however whenever I see an orange see-through bottle with a white cap, I don’t think of the 12 of them I have lined up on my nightstand at home; I think about my grandfather’s veiny hands struggling with the childproof cap. The pharmacist often offered to replace the childproof cap with an easy-open snap off cap, but my grandfather wouldn’t hear of it. My mother, his caretaker, would sigh and continue to be available to him at all times in case he couldn’t get a bottle open. “Why, I do believe they’ve given me a broken bottle,” he would say. He would tell my mother to call the pharmacy and complain, but she never did. Instead, she would read the auxiliary labels to him explaining what each one meant as she went along. “Take with food or milk.” “Do not drive or operate heavy machinery while taking this medication.”
My mother bought him a pill organizer one year for Christmas. It was a large rectangle box organized by day of the week and time of day. Each individual plastic day, containing four separate boxes (Morning, Noon, Evening, and Bedtime), could be popped out so that he would only have to carry one day’s worth of pills around with him. Each morning he selected the appropriate plastic day and placed it in his breast pocket, along with two gold pens and a comb.
Every Saturday night my grandfather would meticulously arrange his pills for the week. Each pill was dropped into its correct box in precisely the right order. One day he dropped his heart medication in before he dropped his thyroid medication in and had to start all over from the beginning. When he eventually became unable to perform his Saturday night ritual on his own, he instructed my mother, watching her with a scrutinizing glare in order to make sure every pill went from bottle to box in precisely the right order. After several weeks of practice my grandfather felt confident enough in my mother’s pill dispensing abilities to relinquish control over his pill box.
When my grandfather died I took the pill box for myself, not that anyone else in my family particularly wanted it. I saved it from the “Throw Away” pile and took it home to my nightstand where it sits empty. I have 12 prescription bottles lined up on my nightstand table and a pillbox in which to organize them, however I have yet to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps and create my own Saturday night ritual. The boxes have not been opened since his final Saturday night ritual and I’m afraid opening them now would allow tufts of him to escape, tufts of him I want to keep on my nightstand table.
My excuse for this week is that I had family in town visiting: my cousin, her little baby girl and my aunt. They are a lot of fun and I spent more time with an 11 month old than I think I ever have in my life. Seeing her almost makes me want to have babies of my own. Almost.
School continues to rock my socks. My writing professor is giving us lots of prompts and mine yesterday was a prescription bottle. This is what came out of my noggin:
Prescription bottles always remind me of my grandfather. I have 12 medications of my own that I take every day, however whenever I see an orange see-through bottle with a white cap, I don’t think of the 12 of them I have lined up on my nightstand at home; I think about my grandfather’s veiny hands struggling with the childproof cap. The pharmacist often offered to replace the childproof cap with an easy-open snap off cap, but my grandfather wouldn’t hear of it. My mother, his caretaker, would sigh and continue to be available to him at all times in case he couldn’t get a bottle open. “Why, I do believe they’ve given me a broken bottle,” he would say. He would tell my mother to call the pharmacy and complain, but she never did. Instead, she would read the auxiliary labels to him explaining what each one meant as she went along. “Take with food or milk.” “Do not drive or operate heavy machinery while taking this medication.”
My mother bought him a pill organizer one year for Christmas. It was a large rectangle box organized by day of the week and time of day. Each individual plastic day, containing four separate boxes (Morning, Noon, Evening, and Bedtime), could be popped out so that he would only have to carry one day’s worth of pills around with him. Each morning he selected the appropriate plastic day and placed it in his breast pocket, along with two gold pens and a comb.
Every Saturday night my grandfather would meticulously arrange his pills for the week. Each pill was dropped into its correct box in precisely the right order. One day he dropped his heart medication in before he dropped his thyroid medication in and had to start all over from the beginning. When he eventually became unable to perform his Saturday night ritual on his own, he instructed my mother, watching her with a scrutinizing glare in order to make sure every pill went from bottle to box in precisely the right order. After several weeks of practice my grandfather felt confident enough in my mother’s pill dispensing abilities to relinquish control over his pill box.
When my grandfather died I took the pill box for myself, not that anyone else in my family particularly wanted it. I saved it from the “Throw Away” pile and took it home to my nightstand where it sits empty. I have 12 prescription bottles lined up on my nightstand table and a pillbox in which to organize them, however I have yet to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps and create my own Saturday night ritual. The boxes have not been opened since his final Saturday night ritual and I’m afraid opening them now would allow tufts of him to escape, tufts of him I want to keep on my nightstand table.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Facebook and stuff
I took yesterday off, if you don't count the biking. Which I do so I guess I didn't take the day off. Whatever, I didn't run and I'm ok with that. I think my body is going into shock what with all the healthy eating and all this...movement. It's grown accustomed to sitting in a chair for hours upon hours trying to figure out the relationship of
prediction : augury
The GREs are hard, people. But my butt is not so it's time to get moving. Today is yoga day which makes my socks roll up and down. I have a lot of kinks in this 29 year old body that need to be worked out and it just so happens that I got a 10-class yoga pass for my birthday. Yippee!
In other news, I've joined the rest of the planet and signed up on Facebook. Add me as a friend. Please. I'm desperate to look cool and I only have like 4 friends. No, I'm kidding. I don't just want to look cool. I want to be cool. And you can be cool too if you add me as a friend. I promise to write witty things on your wall and I'll send you flare. Go on, take a chance...
http://www.new.facebook.com/profile.php?id=721237475&ref=profile
prediction : augury
The GREs are hard, people. But my butt is not so it's time to get moving. Today is yoga day which makes my socks roll up and down. I have a lot of kinks in this 29 year old body that need to be worked out and it just so happens that I got a 10-class yoga pass for my birthday. Yippee!
In other news, I've joined the rest of the planet and signed up on Facebook. Add me as a friend. Please. I'm desperate to look cool and I only have like 4 friends. No, I'm kidding. I don't just want to look cool. I want to be cool. And you can be cool too if you add me as a friend. I promise to write witty things on your wall and I'll send you flare. Go on, take a chance...
http://www.new.facebook.com/profile.php?id=721237475&ref=profile
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Bullets
The problem with not posting for nearly 2 weeks is that a lot happens that I couldn't possibly sum for you eloquently. Hence another dreaded bullet point list of the most recent events here in my corner of the globe:
- I ran TWO races the weekend of St Patrick's Day.
- Saturday was a 4 miler, time 37:00 on the nose. Quite happy with this one seeing as how I'd indulged in some green beer the night before.
- Sunday was a 5k on a hilly terrible course, time for that one: 28:33. Meh. I'll take it, but only because they gave out some great SWAG. Probably the best I've ever gotten for any race, let alone a 5k. We got a technical t-shirt, 2 sports bottles, a sample of Hammer Gel, electrolyte tabs, and an energy bar, two free movie passes, 35 music downloads, and a St Patrick's Day Luck O' The Irish 5k drinking glass when we crossed the finish line. All in all, not too shabby.
- Things are going along swimmingly with the Boy Toy. No major blips since he reemerged and in fact, I dare say it's going better than ever. (Knock on wood.) He calls when he says he's going to and introduced me to his friends. Yesterday, I went home to meet his family. Mom, dad, brothers, sisters and spouses....everybody. I was nervous as all get out but I think things went ok. His entire family runs so we at least had some easy topics of conversation to cover. I'm not quite sure I'm ready to have him meet my family but that's another topic for another day.
I will post more often. I will post more often. I will post more often.
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