On Blogging

When I try to explain to some of my 'in real life' friends (and family) about the friends I've made through blogging, I get blank stares back. Crickets. Maybe a 'that's nice'.

To be quite honest, before I got into blogging, I probably would have reacted the same. In fact, I KNOW I would have been skeptical.

Over the last two-ish years, I can honestly say I've made some of the greatest friends online. Many of whom I've gone on to meet in real life. I've actually gotten on a plane and flown away to stay with people that I know nothing about, save our email conversations and what I've read on their blogs.

Thankfully, they were not ax murderers.

In my former life - meaning the life I had when I worked out of the home from 9-5 and didn't have time to email, let alone blog - the whole concept of online community was foreign,. and let's face it, WEIRD to me.

But strange things start to happen in your head when you're suddenly laid off and a stay at home mom. You feel isolated. Adult conversations are few and far between. And in real life? I'm a little shy. So meeting other moms, or even women I could relate to at all, was difficult. I'd go to the playground and try to strike up conversation, but that would usually go nowhere. My son and I had fun at playgroups...but playgroups usually consisted of me running around like a madwoman after my child. So there's not a whole lot of opportunity for meaningful conversation.

Online? I'm free to jump around to different sites. Meet people that have common interests. Have long email exchanges that fill a bit of the void I sometimes feel socially. So now, what started out as a way to feel less lonely, has blossomed and grown into some true friendships. Real life friendships.

It's pretty awesome.

This week has been stressful. I've been struggling with being super uncomfortably pregnant, tired, stressed over being prepared for baby. Things were not coming together in a fashion that was making me happy - meaning, perfectly.

On Friday morning, I was running around like a madwoman and I got an email alert on my phone. I opened it up and started crying.

My girlfriends, my online girlfriends, had gotten together and sent me the BEST baby gift ever. A gift certificate to Dream Dinners.

Why was I crying (happy tears of course)? Because these women, some whom I've never laid eyes upon, know me so well that they knew WHAT I needed, even though I had no idea.

I needed something taken off my plate. I needed to be taken care of.

And more than that, I know they put a ton of thought into that gift.

More than the gift itself, can I just say that knowing I'm loved is the best? I needed that too, so much.

I am not discounting my wonderful, long time, real life friends in any way. Because I adore them more than anything. They are my family. My sisters.

But it is so beautiful adding to that family. And I truly believe that in the last few years, the love and the friendship in my life has expanded exponentially. And it's real.

So when I get the skeptical looks over blogging and 'online' friendships, do I get upset? No. Because I know what it means to me and how it's brought so much good to my life.

Race Recap, My Style

Two weeks ago I was packing frantically for San Diego. Making checklists. And checklists for those lists. Double checking...shoes, GPS watch, running clothes, fuel belt.

And, and, and.

Little did I know what was going to happen to me three days later. I knew that I was going to run, or attempt to run, 13.1 miles. I knew that I had to get up at 3:30 am. I knew that it was going to be grueling.

What I didn't realize was how this race was going to affect me, as a person. How it would touch my heart and my spirit in so many ways that I didn't think running a race could. Yeah, it was a lot about running, but even more? It was about being part of something greater than myself, knowing that I'd played a part in an event that was bringing good to a lot of lives.

While I could do a play by play of how much it hurt, or what each mile was like, I want to actually talk about parts of the race that really moved me, emotionally. Cause there were a lot. Christy and I decided to pace together, and for me, that was so incredible. To share so many things with someone over a physically challenging course is something that I will always treasure. And I'm glad she's a sap like me - there were many times we were crying while we were running. At one point, Christy said she was hyperventilating from crying. Running and crying do not combine well. But there were so many moments:

• Running by men in the military who were SERVING US WATER. Oh, my goodness. They already do so much. Them standing there, handing us those little cups? Seriously, that really got me.
• On the freeway stretch, we ran by a little person. She was maybe up to my waist, her legs were bowed, and running looked painful for her. But there she was, pushing her limits. I mean, how can I EVER complain when someone with the physical challenges she has is running a 1/2 marathon?
  
• Passing a woman who had clearly done chemo recently. Her hair was starting to come back in, downy and soft. She was walking, head held high, with a shirt that exclaimed 'SURVIVOR.'
• The blind woman, walking the half, and I'm pretty sure she was on her own. She was using a cane, feeling her way along the pavement. She was small and her shirt read 'Little Giant'. When someone who literally is missing one of her senses can get herself out there and do a half...well, that's pretty freaking amazing.
• All the supporters lining the route. A sea of purple. I could not have asked for better motivation than people yelling 'GO TEAM' and high fiving as I passed.
  
• Whenever we hit a hill, I'd say 'WE OWN THIS HILL.' I'm sure that didn't get old (ha ha).
  
• At mile 12, when I was running out of gas, I looked to my left and out of nowhere, I saw the mom of one of my high school friends. She is a Team in Training coach. She gave me a hug and ran with me for a little bit, and I so needed that.
  
• Crossing the finish line with (okay, almost with, she beat me by a second) with Christy. What an incredible experience to share! Half mary sisters for life, girlfriend!

• Celebrating afterwards with all my girls from Team Shrinking Jeans. So amazing to get to see everyone in real life. They're all in my heart forever.

So I guess that's not a traditional race recap, but out of everything, these are the things that stick with me. Not the pain, not the damned slanted freeway (okay, that sucked), not the heinously disgusting porta-johns and how gross runners are with their pooping. Not how I thought I lost my driver's license through the entire race (thanks again, Christy, for talking me down) only to find it in my checked bag at the end. Not Christy forgetting sunscreen and having to holler 'SUNSCREEN?' at every TNT coach on the route.

Not the guy who ran in Batman briefs. Okay, maybe that.

When I signed up with Team in Training, I was thinking, yeah, I'll train for and run a 1/2 marathon. That's awesome.

And it was.

But I didn't bargain for how I'd feel differently inside, how this would change me. For the better, I think.

GO TEAM!

Hot Mess

Today is my birthday - I'm the big 3-2.

Woo. Hoo.

No, I'm not all freaked out about getting older. I just don't get so excited about birthdays anymore. I really can't remember the last time I did anything for my birthday except maybe go out to dinner.

Which is fine.

No, really. I promise.

But sitting here today made me think about where I was ten years ago on my birthday. England. Having way too much fun. WAY TOO MUCH. As in, if you look up pent up, goody two shoes set loose in a foreign land with lots of booze in the dictionary, there's my picture.

See?

That's me on the left. Yes, I am standing on a table (I was wearing a miniskirt standing on a table, cause I totally am classy like that). Yes, I am doing 'rock on horns' with my fingers. I can tell you that I remember that night and it didn't end pretty. Oh no.

Did I mention I drank a lot? Yeah. This drink in my hand? It's called a Snakebite and it is pure evil in a glass. In fact, many pubs over there will not serve this concoction because people end up doing stupid things after drinking a few...YOU DON'T SAY. The bartenders never had a problem serving those bad boys up to us silly exchange students.

Which brings me to this day,exactly ten years ago.

The birthday celebration extraordinaire. My twenty-second birthday fell at the end of the school year. I'd made some great friends and we were ready to cut loose.

I decided that I wanted to cook dinner for all my roommates. Nice gesture, no?

Except for the fact that I started drinking around noon. So, by the time dinner time rolled around, let's just say my knife skills weren't so great. I did not cut myself, but I'm pretty sure I grated some knuckle with the parmesan.

We hit the pub, stayed there till it closed, then hit the local disco. I remember pretty much everything that night, which is amazing, because I counted how many drinks I had and I hit 22 between 5pm and 3am. 22 for my 22nd.

Wow. Maybe I should be proud? Or not.

Here is the sole photo I have from that night. It is blurry. Kind of fitting. (OMG, I'm totally drinking peach schnapps.)


There are times I get nostalgic for that crazy time in my life. Cause I've for the most part lived a pretty down to earth, responsible existence.

But for a year (or two) I was a bit of a (FUN) trainwreck. I made it through, unscathed.

That hot mess? I miss her. Carefree, LOUD, probably obnoxious as hell.

But would I go back to that? Um, no. Not in a million years.

This morning, my husband brought my son in to me to snuggle at 7am. He got right under the covers, rolled over and hugged me and said 'I wuv you mommy'.

I'm pretty sure that no birthday party could EVER top that.

No Axe Murderers Here. (Texas, Day One)

If you'd have told me a few years ago that I'd meet a bunch of people online and eventually travel halfway across the country, by myself, to meet them all? I would have laughed in your face. Heartily.

Especially because I'd made a hell of a lot of fun of my poor brother in law when he was in the wedding of a couple he'd met online playing World of Warcraft (okay, that is still pretty high-larious).

So Friday morning, when my husband dropped me off at the airport, his concern was almost palpable. But, I assured him, I have pretty good intuition. And every bone in my body told me that I needed to go. To Texas. To B.F.E. Texas. Where there was no cell phone reception. I told him that if they were all axe murderers, it was like the most elaborate axe murdering plot in all the history of axe murderers and I had to go because it was that good. He didn't think that was so funny.

I sat in the airport, nervous, but so excited - giddy, even. My flight was delayed. And the asshole who checks your boarding pass made me check my carry on. It wasn't too big, there were just a bunch of other assholes who took their TOO BIG carry ons onto the plane and I think he thought I wouldn't put up a fight. I barely avoided a Meet the Parents situation (bomb bomb bomb bombbomb bomb bomb bomb). But after six hours at an airport or on a plane, I was there.

Lisa met me at the Austin airport. We loaded my luggage into the 'minivan that can' and off we went to San Antonio, chatting the whole way like we've known each other forever. And we met these hookers for dinner.

Clockwise from left: Christy, Lisa, Amanda, Me, Tiffany, Kirsten, Thea (OMG, I just realized Elaine is not in the photo...she must have taken it.)

I'm pretty sure I had the best fajitas I have ever had in my entire life. Did you know that they put melted garlic butter on their tortillas in Texas? True story. Manna from Heaven.

And there was a mariachi band. Unfortunately they were only playing sad mariachi music. It was kind of pissing me off.

We rolled ourselves out of the restaurant and took off on the two hour trek to Christy's in the hill country. Leakey, to be exact. After following the wrong black Tahoe for a bit, we were finally headed in the right direction.

And, I witnessed the most amazing thunder and lightening storm I've ever seen. Crazy. CRAZY. Kudos to Lisa and the minivan that can for delivering us safely to the banks for the Frio River.

Our long anticipated Hooker Retreat 2010 weekend had officially begun...

Yippee Kay Aye!

Okay, I'm tired, and my son is really wanting my attention.

And I missed him SO MUCH, so I love that he wants to cuddle. LOVE.

But, quickly, here are a few quick takes from my trip to Texas. And trust me, there are lots of stories to be told and photos to show... be patient. They will come. Trust.

For now:

My first glimpse of Texas.

I got to stay here! I don't think it gets more beautiful, for reals.

There was a haircut. With kitchen shears.


And I think I may die if I do not obtain one of these for my living room.


I'm not kidding. I'm on eBay right now.

Hoarders: Accessory Edition

It started about a month ago. I was up visiting a friend in Bellingham (My hometown - or the largest town nearby to where I grew up. Also known as the city of subdued excitement. I'm not kidding) and after we got our hairs did, we had a nice little lunch and ended up doing some shopping.

We were in this adorable, trendy little shop and I was feeling terribly old. And out of style. I decided then and there I needed to update myself somehow. And that somehow was accessorizing.

Truth be told, I suck at accessorizing. I have my ears pierced, twice, yet I never wear earrings. I had a brief tryst with necklaces that came to an abrupt halt when I realized that I didn't want to be strangled by my toddler while trying to be fashionable. I will not wear watches or bracelets because they make my wrists look weird...in particular, they bring attention to my hairy arms (I am convinced they are so hairy because I tried to shave them once when I was 7).

So basically the only accessory I wear regularly is my wedding ring.

For some reason, that afternoon, a little voice in my head said YOU MUST START WEARING SCARVES.

And so it began. Introducing my first scarf.

Hi, I'm a dork. That is all.

Since then, I've kind of lost the plot. Old Navy has reasonable, super cute scarves and I can't seem to control myself. Like, at all.

Last count I was at twelve.

Intervention, please?

Tales from the Hometown

I feel like I haven't been here forever. I have opened up my Blogger account multiple times, stared at the computer, and then closed down wistfully.

Not that I haven't been busy. I have. Mostly mundane, everyday stuff. But also, I had some fun. Like this weekend, for instance.

My brother, his girlfriend (H) and her son are visiting. This weekend, we all headed up to the parents house - some highlights:

* Friday night I accompanied my bro and H to dinner with his friends. At Olive Garden (A side note? I don't think I've ever consumed that much salt in one sitting, ever). Dinner conversation included stories of people pooping themselves. Funny. Even funnier? All recent stories and all said boys men are 28. But I laughed till I cried. I think the margarita helped.

* Later that night I was lectured by one of the guys about how unfair it is that hot chicks are immediately judged as bitches by normal women - like me. He was so fired up about it, I swear he had TEARS in his eyes. Ouch. I'll take it with a grain of salt as he arrived on the back of a SCOOTER, not even a motorcycle, all Dumb & Dumber style.

* Saturday morning I went for a run - my weekly long run for Team in Training. My parents live out in the country - I was SO looking forward to fresh air. I didn't take into account that THEY LIVE IN THE COUNTRY, so I instead enjoyed the stench of freshly sprayed manure. Oh shit, indeed.

* Before said run, I nearly had a nervous breakdown because my GPS watch battery was dead (it turned on in my bag and drained), and I had no charger. I didn't realize I was so dependent on that thing, but I was pretty much rendered helpless. How can I run if I don't have a timer, know my distance, and my speed? Breathe. Breathe. Then I remembered my brother had his iPhone, and there was, thank goodness, an APP FOR THAT. I wrestled the phone out of his hands and took off.

* I ran 6.5 miles. I completely misjudged my distance and by the time I hit the 6 mile marker I was AT LEAST two miles from home. I considered cutting through a field and the woods, but then I remembered where I was, that people have guns, and that I'd probably either sprain my ankle in the field or run into barbed wire or get attacked by a rabid raccoon in the woods. So I called for a bailout. Again, good thing I stole my brother's phone.

* H needed to return some stuff to Old Navy. Upon walking into the oh-so-flattering fluorescent light of the local mall, my darling little bro says ' WHOA! When did you get so gray?' I bought two new scarves and some cardis to make myself feel better. It worked.

* We got pedicures. When I say we, I'm including my brother. I think he *might* have enjoyed it the most considering he nearly fell asleep during the foot/leg massage. P.S. My pedicure is purple for Team in Training (GO TEAM! Even my toenails are on board!).

* Later, on Saturday night, I took H to my girlfriend Rachel's for Rachel's birthday party, an all ladies affair which she entitled 'The Real Housewives of Whatcom County". There was lots of booze, lots of food, and the best part? A Tarot card reader. Oh yes. She was amazing - doesn't do scary readings - tends to make whatever you draw, even death, a potentially positive thing (such as, death can mean you will have your first baby, which is 'death' to your childless self). I won't go too much into it, but my birth and year cards are Emperor/Emperor, which basically means I am bossy and in charge. And I am a 'leader'. And my card for the year is the Hermit, which could mean this should be an introspective year for me. I should write a lot. INTERESTING.

* At the party, I got to catch up with so many friends, some of whom I haven't seen in almost 10 years. Loved it.

* When I told my mom we did Tarot her eyes got really big and I assured her that I wasn't worshipping the Devil or even worse, considering becoming Mormon. (Bless her, she is so cute).

That's what I've been up to, at least some of it...still trying to fit in all my running and desperately clinging onto my sanity (it's a slippery little sucker).

Mix Tape (Ok, CD)

Last weekend, I met up for lunch with my girlfriend Rachel. Sans kids. It was so nice - refreshing. We don't get to see each other much so when we do, I savor it. We've been close friends since we were both duped into playing the baritone horn in junior high band. Seriously, we must have both been pretty stupid. Because I really don't know how you get convinced that playing a miniature tuba is cool.

At the end of lunch, she pulled a mix cd out of her purse - that our other friend, Megan, had made me for Christmas. Megan lives in San Diego, and I wasn't able to meet up with her when she was up over the holidays. I instantly knew I would love it - she has great taste in music, and always has introduced me to new stuff. Okay, new to me.

I was listening to the compilation on the way home, and these lyrics jumped out at me:

Don't push so hard against the world.
You can't do it all alone
and if you could, would you really want to?
Even though you're a big strong girl,
come on, come on, lay it down,
the best made plans,
come on, come on, lay it down,
are your open hands.

[From Deb Talan's Big Strong Girl]

I don't get all sappy about music very often, but damn. Megan knows me really well. So well, in fact, that she knew that three months from when she made that cd, I'd need to hear that song. That exact song.

I am really bad at taking on too much. Internalizing too much. Feeling overwhelmed. Taking things personally. Getting wrapped up into impossible situations that I can't, no matter how hard I try, fix.

You know when a song makes you cry, well, maybe something. somebody, is trying to tell you something.

And you'd best listen.

Share the Happy!

Aw, shucks! My darling Lissa over at Whooo's That Girl tagged me with this sweet award! And, she doesn't know it (till now) but I owe her big time, cause it gave me something to write about today. Muah!

So, here are the instructions:

1. Copy the image and display it on your blog.
2. List 10 things that make you happy.
3. Try to do at least one of them today.
4. Pass on the award to 10 bloggers who brighten your day.

What makes ME happy?

Coffee. I know it's probably a caffeine addiction, but I can't sub soda or tea for my beloved coffee. So maybe it really IS the way it tastes. The way it smells. How my temperamental coffee pot grumbles to life as it brews that sweet, sweet nectar...

Farmers Markets. Probably because they coincide with spring and summertime. And the best part of autumn. All the colors and smells. Getting to eat produce that's actually local and in season, rather than imported from places I'll probably never even go in my lifetime (not that I wouldn't go to Chile, but I'm not sure the opportunity will ever present itself).

Footie Jammies. ON CHILDREN ONLY (don't get me started on the creepiness of adults in footie jammies. And if you wear them, sorry. But it's creepy! More so on guys. Ok, rant over). There is nothing more snuggly than a baby or small child in footie jammies.

Soup. There is something super comforting about having a huge pot of soup simmering on the stove top. I love making a ton so I always have soup in the freezer. It's a go-to meal for me. When I feel like I've overindulged throughout the day, when I'm chilly, when I'm down in the dumps. Soup is healing. I'm convinced.

Little Kid Voices. I love listening to my son talk to himself in his crib, sing songs read himself books, or say 'Watchu doin', Mommy?' I'm relishing it now, before it turns into marathon whining. He's so sing-songy right now. Love it.

Reading in the Bath. Two of my favorite things, combined. Especially after a hard run. Hot bath, lavendar essential oil, tea or water and a good book or magazine. I find it's the only time I really read - if I'm in bed, I'm either passed out or watching Roseanne reruns (Nick at Night, holla!) and if I'm in the living room I'm on the computer or reading No No Yes Yes to my son for the 500th time.

Extreme weather. Okay, not weather that puts anyone in danger...but if it snows, I want it to be DEEP and stick for a while. I want to be stuck at the house. If it rains, I want a torrential downpour. If there's a river to watch flood, count me in...and I'm not dumb enough to actually drive through the water acros the roadway. I just like to watch it. If it's sunny, I want the sky to be perfectly blue and the temperature to be over 80. I want to complain about how hot it is then miss that heat when the weather turns gray and nasty. Wind? As long as there aren't any huge trees to fall on my house, bring it on. I don't even mind if the power goes out...we can cook in the fireplace!

Music. Life needs a soundtrack. That is all.

My family and friends. Without them, I'm lost. My husband keeps me grounded, and loves me when I'm not doing a very good job loving myself. My son is truly the light of my life. The rest of my family, my friends...well, I keep them around for a reason! They're amazing.

A clean, organized house. This is aspirational for me, to have both. But, some days, when I manage to pick up all the Hot Wheels and Legos, vacuum, bleach the kitchen and bathroom and wash and fold and put away all the laundry? I love those days. My house is never perfect, or even close to it, but my version of clean works for me.

And now to share the happy - I'm passing this award on to ten bloggers who make ME happy!

• Andrea at The Train to Crazy
• Tiffiny at The Story of My Life
• Ann at She's Gonna Blow!
• Thea at I'm a Drama Mama
• Lisa at Growing Up Mo
• April at Did That Just Happen?
• Allison at Gifts from the Heart
• Jamie at Not Just An Ordinary Girl
• Jenn at Have you Hurd?
• Liz at 30 Days of Fun

Have fun, ladies!

Decade

Do you remember where you were on New Years Eve, 1999?

I do. I was back from England on Christmas break. Single. A functional alcoholic...uh, probably. I say that affectionately. It is up for debate how I survived that year, learning to drink like a Brit. Rough.

My girlfriend Christine and I rang in the new millennium together at a house party. And I am straight, but she was truly my girlfriend that night. We gave each other a nice smooch at the stroke of midnight. I mean, there weren't any guys there except for Christine's brother and his friend. And we were not kissing them. There was no tongue, okay? Sheesh. Plus she's pretty cute. See?


And that concludes my college 'experimenting'. Anyhow...

When I look at that picture it boggles my mind that was ten years ago. I look like such a baby. No gray hair. A lot thinner. Apple cheeks. (By the way, Christine looks totally the same. I am glad she is so awesome or I'd have to hate her).

Ten years, a wedding, a baby and much, much more later. Crazy. I can't even imagine what the next ten years will bring.

Not so crazy? My new years celebration this year. I will be surprised if I make it to midnight. Maybe I will celebrate New Years with my east coast friends...and head to bed at 9 PST. That sounds doable.

Happy New Decade everyone!

Dear 2009, Good Riddance...

This year has blasted by. And thank goodness. I don't know how much more yucky stuff could have happened this year. Okay, I know it COULD have been worse. I don't even want to THINK about that.

2009 - A Crappy Year in Review.

I was laid off (but actually this is kind of a positive too)

• M.I.L. diagnosed with lung cancer.
• High school friend passed away after fighting breast cancer for five years.
• Drama.
• Brother in law laid off.
• Did I mention drama?
  

But, in retrospect, many great things happened this year.

So, as this year (DECADE?!) draws to a close, I'd like to focus on the happy things. Because I anticipate many more happy things in 2010.

My Top Ten Good Things of 2009.

1) My husband. He teases me mercilessly. He stays thin even when he eats, seriously, like the worst, crappiest food in the universe. He makes me watch the Science Channel and MMA. He is physically incapable of putting the laundry in the laundry basket. And I'm still crazy about him. He is an amazing man, and after this year, I am truly amazed that he turned out like he did. He is a testament to the apple falling VERY FAR from the tree.

2) Babies! So many of my girlfriends welcomed little ones this year. A few surprises, many meticulously planned out, all delicious and wonderful!

3) B got a great promotion. He is finally getting recognized for the GENIUS he is - not even sarcastic - he is truly one of the most intelligent people I know.

4) The Sisterhood. What can I say. I love those hookers (and Brian, our, um, pimp). I can't begin to tell you what a huge difference these peeps have made in my life. I can't wait for our new challenge to begin (go check it out!) and for all our crazy adventures this year - including a 1/2 marathon. I AM RUNNING A HALF MARY IN 2010!

5) Kauai. Never has a vacation been more needed. That is all.

6) Reconnecting with B's Dad, Stepmom and Half Sister. The more I get to know them, the more I know what my life was missing. I'm so thankful for them!

7) The Whole Fam Damily. Even though some of them did hurtful things, I must step back and realize that they are human and not as perfect as I. Oh, I kid. Overall, I love my family and my husband's family very much. Some of them don't make the best decisions, but at least they are entertaining.

8) Old friends (you know who you are). I've had a lot of the same girlfriends since junior high (some even earlier - and I've picked up some more along the way). There's a reason they're still in my life. No, not because you have some horrible photographic blackmail material (hello, grunge years), but because you are all amazing women. I have a fabulous collection of girlfriends. Love.

9) Running. I love it, I hate it. But nothing peels off the pounds and keeps me out of therapy/off meds like good old pounding the pavement. Who knew?

10) My G-Rex. Is it sad that my 2 year old is my best bud in the world? I don't think so! He is just amazing. I can't remember (and don't want to) what life was like before him. How can you be in a sour mood when a toddler runs up, grabs your cheeks and kisses you. Impossible!

So, when I think about 2009, there was a lot of heartbreak, a lot of um, yes, DRAMA, and a lot of anger.

But, in so many ways, the bitter makes the sweet SO much sweeter.

Shrink-a-Versary Extravaganza!

There are some VERY exciting things happening over at The Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans.

I'm serious. VERY EXCITING.

Tomorrow we start our newest challenge - running from October 28 through December 16th. That's seven weeks to whip your heinie into shape before the Holidays!

And there's more. This challenge coincides with the Sisterhood's one year anniversary. There will be much celebration. And giveaways galore.

So, if you've been looking to drop a few pounds (or stone) and get fit with some serious Sisterhood (boys are welcome too!) support, make sure you visit the Sisterhood tomorrow for all the details.

A Meme Saves the Day

Mendie (who is just the sweetest thing) over at The Little Ladybug That Could tagged me for a fun little meme today. And thank God for her, because I clearly am having the most colossal fit of writer's block EVER. So Mendie, you're my hero tonight!

Without further ado, ten things you probably don't know about me.

1) I hate cotton balls. They make my skin crawl. Even worse? That cotton they stuff in your mouth at the dentist...is that necessary? REALLY?

2) I absolutely, positively cannot whistle. Many have taken it as a personal challenge to teach me, but I am unteachable. I think it is physically impossible.

3) I consider condiments a food group. I have at least 30 residing in the door of my fridge. My current favorite? Hoisin sauce.

4) On the subject of condiments, I have been known to drink pickle and olive juice. Digusting? Possibly. Delicious? HECK YES!

5) All of my animals have human names. Our dogs are Carl and Sadie, and our cats are Boris, Bridget and Violet. Why we have five animals is another issue entirely.

6) My husband suggested our son's name (which I will divulge here this once - George). I agreed, after a while. It grew on me. Many asked if he was named after someone, as it's quite old fashioned. I always thought no, we just picked that name. Well, I found out months after our son's arrival that he IS actually named after someone, per my husband - Ken Griffey, Jr., whose real name is George Kenneth Griffey, Jr. However, I like to pretend he is named after George Clooney.

7) I love MMA and UFC. I know. How embarrassing for me.

8) I would eat McDonald's soft serve every day if I could.

9) I do not find either Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt attractive. And yes, I am heterosexual.

10) I still hold the girls high jump record (5'4") at my high school, according to my mother, who still checks on a regular basis (glory days!).

I would tag some peeps, but my brain hurts and, let's face it, I'm LAZY tonight.

Yeah, I said it. LAZY.

For Colleen

Today I got news I knew was coming.

I knew it was coming, but I was not ready. Not in the least.

There are some people that you lose contact with, but never forget. For me, my friend Colleen was one of those people. We met in grade school. We played soccer together. She was slight and sprightly with the hugest blue eyes you've ever seen. She had a super cute giggle. Collen was someone who had a truly pure, beautiful soul. Kind, funny, sweet. All those things.

In a word, lovely.

Colleen and I have not been in close contact since we graduated high school, but I have thought of her often. I would get periodic updates from her mom, who I'd run into from time to time.

About five years ago, I was out at my parents' house and her mom showed up. I was the only one at the house. She hugged me hard and we sat down. She told me Colleen had been diagnosed with breast cancer. As she looked in my eyes, her pain bored down into my heart. I ached for her.

Over the past few years, I've heard news from time to time. I could not even fathom the fact that Colleen would lose her battle with cancer. It just never crossed my mind.

I found her on Facebook, and watched in awe as this woman, who was incredibly sick, was living her life with so much vigor.

Colleen lost her battle last night. She was at home. She was, no doubt, enveloped in love.

On October 24, Colleen was going to ride in the Livestrong Challenge in Austin. As of tonight, she has raised $40,830 for the cause.

Amazing.

Tonight, I will cry for Colleen. I will mourn her and celebrate her. I will think of her loving husband and her wonderful family.

I will hope for peace and comfort for those who loved Colleen.

And there were a lot of us.

(If you are so inclined, Colleen's fundraising page is still up. How awesome would it be to get her WAY past her fundraising goal?)

Aqua Net, Def Leppard & 30 Something Mamas - OH MY.

If I had to pinpoint when I fell in love with Def Leppard, I'd have to go way back. We had a neighbor boy who played drums (he was very cool, in high school, in the band - before I realized marching band wasn't THAT cool). He would practice to Van Halen (not Van Haggar), whom I also love, and Def Leppard. Of course, when I got into junior high and high school, it became clear that Def Leppard was NOT COOL. This was at the height of the grunge movement. So I proclaimed my love for Eddie Vedder, thought Kurt Cobain was a tortured artist, and wore lots of plaid and corduroy (wide wale, naturally). So, my Def Leppard obsession was closeted. I bet if you asked ANY of my friends from high school, they probably had no idea that I rocked out to Pour Some Sugar on Me while I was driving my little blue VW Rabbit. In college, I was going through a particularly bad breakup, and the Def Leppard flame was reignited. Love Bites. That song was set on repeat. Over. And over. Many tears were shed as Joe Elliot cried out: LOVE BITES. LOVE BLEEDS. IT'S BRINGIN' ME TO MY KNEES...

Seeing them in concert has been on my to do list for a long time. And finally, on Saturday night, my dream came true!
As any good hair band fan knows, any concert experience must begin with the gold standard:

We set off to the ampitheathre. It was 85 out and I was DYING in my super tight jeans (but I'm committed). All the windows were down and we were blasting Leppard out the windows. We got a few looks. One guy did take a photo of us with his cell. A lot of people refused to make eye contact with us. Maybe because we appeared crazy? Nah. Here are my three other partners in crime (from left): Stephanie, Tiffiny and Jenn. Yes, Jenn is wearing a bustier and a tutu. How cute is she? Best comment of the night (by a couple of HATERS): 'Rock of Love, much?' Some people have NO sense of humor! Once we were settled in on the lawn, it was group photo time! I don't smoke, but I totally brought a lighter. Here I am practicing. And the skinny jeans? The zippers = AWESOME! Poison opened the concert. They were pretty amazing. It would have been better if Bret Michaels were on the big screen. I wanted to check out his hairpiece. And then, Def Leppard. Oh. My. Physical. Lord. They were incredible. Everything about the show was kick ass. The energy, how great they sound live, THE ONE ARMED DRUMMER. Seriously. That guy is A-FREAKING-MAZING. Next year, we're going big time. As close to the stage as we can get. I'm saving my pennies starting NOW. I am the biggest dork ever, but luckily I have dorky friends too. Love you girls! LET'S GET ROCKED!

A Reunion Nine Years in the Making

Almost ten years ago, I made a decision to take a year abroad - I'd had a rough few years and really needed to get away from the town where I grew up. I could have transferred somewhere a few hours away, maybe moved to Seattle.

But I needed a serious change. So I moved to England.

I flew into Heathrow, completely alone, toting two huge rolling suitcases, a backpack, and a laptop. Being completely naive, I thought I would be able to navigate my way from London to Plymouth by myself. But as soon as I landed I knew I was wrong.

Have you been to Heathrow? It is CRAZY HUGE.

By some divine intervention, the school I was attending had sent a coach that day to pick up exchange students. I KNOW. I still to this day do not know how I got so lucky.

On that four hour bus ride from London to Plymouth, I met the person I would share everything with - hangovers, studying, LIFE - for the next 10 months. Ashley.

(Here we are - yes I cropped someone out. Deal.)

I didn't think it was possible to connect with somebody so quickly, but man, we just hit it off immediately. She was quite possibly one of the coolest people I'd ever met. In spite of being Canadian. I kid, I kid!

Ash and I spent nearly every day together, travelled to Wales, Ireland, Italy and France, and even decided that in lieu of spending money going to Scotland, we would instead spend that cash and go on a one week bender. Priorities, right?

The ten months flew by and before I knew it, we were in London, saying our goodbyes. We promised, through tears, not to lose touch, and that we would see each other soon.

We have NEVER lost touch. But, as it does, LIFE happened. And it wasn't until today, nearly nine years to the day, that we saw each other again.

And it was like we'd never been apart.

I love you forevs, Skid. Let's not wait another ten years.

Put a Roof Over Someone's Head

I've known Andrea and her family for years. Just recently, her brother Rusty and his family packed up and moved to Liberia. They're doing some great things over there.

She just posted about an orphanage over there that is in desperate need of a roof to keep the rain out. During the rainy season, they get at least an INCH A DAY for five months. These children are sleeping in damp (at best) beds.

Head on over to Andrea's Blog, The Train To Crazy, for a simple way you can make a huge difference for these children.

I Have A Stroller & Am Not Afraid to Use It.

One of my oldest friends, Bethany, and I met up at the mall yesterday.

We've been trying to meet up fairly regularly now that she's out on maternity leave. Her little dude is just three months old. G likes to point at him and scream 'BeeeeBeee!' He also likes to grab his chubby cheeks and try poke out his eyes. Yes, we're still working on gentle. It's not quite sinking in.

I cannot stress how important it is to try to get out of the house when you have a small infant. I WISH someone would have told me to get out of the maternity sweats, wash your face and put on some mascara. We're going out!

And it really doesn't matter where. Just getting out of the cocoon is the point.

Bethany is doing much better than I did. I literally would not leave my house for a week at a time. I wouldn't go so far as to say I had Postpartum Depression. I'd call it Postpartum 'there is no way I'm leaving this house while I'm leaking milk, breaking out, carrying 40 pounds of residual baby weight with an infant who won't stop screaming and hates being in the car seat.' Yeah, that about sums it up.

Suffice it to say I'm happy she's doing so well.

So there we were, navigating our strollers around the mall on a Friday afternoon. It's fascinating to me how many people are at the mall on weekdays. I mean, now I'm one of them. But back when I was working full time I thought the malls were deserted during the work week. Not so.

I really wanted to find eyebrow scissors (I'm teaching myself to groom my own eyebrows - possibly a recipe for disaster), so we popped into Sephora.

In my former, child-unencumbered life, Sephora was like my idea of Heaven. Stuff to sniff, crazy awesome make-up, products I didn't know I needed but suddenly would die without. It's like a crack den for a product junkie.

I have come to realize, though, that apparently Sephora (and many other retailers) don't want mothers of infants to purchase their wares.

Why this conclusion? Because they make their aisles so small, there is no possible way to get a stroller through. It was like bumper strollers.

We finally found the eyebrow scissors, which I decided were a little expensive for my taste ($18 for tiny little scissors I'll probably lose... no thanks!). They were CONVENIENTLY located in the back of the store.

After again bumping every single object in my path, I was nearly out the entrance. The only thing in my way were two teenage girls, doing their makeup for free, literally hanging out of their shorts that required bikini waxes.

'Excuse me.'

'EXCUSE me.'

'EXCUSE ME!'

Three times I asked. Three times ignored.

So I proceeded to steer the mammoth stroller directly towards them.

And they moved.

I looked over to Bethany who I've know since we were 12. 'Were we ever like that?'

'No way.'

And we laughed. Because we totally were.

Let Them Eat Cake!

I went to my dear friend Stacie's baby shower this last Saturday. It was wonderful to catch up with a whole bunch of friends I haven't seen in quite some time. And so many of them are pregnant!

Towards the end of the shower, I look over to the food table and THEY'RE ALL EATING CAKE. It was only the pregnant ones, and it was priceless.

I had to take a picture. Thanks ladies for humoring me!



Aren't they beautiful? From left, Tosha(due in June), Stacie (due in May), Tara (due in July) and Rachel (due in April).

Oh yeah, they're all having GIRLS. G will have lots of girlfriends to choose from in a few years!

I Was (Nearly) a Teenaged Felon.

I'll just preface this by saying three things:

1) I was a painfully, boringly good teenager. A little mouthy at times, but overall, well behaved. I went to church on Sundays and didn't drink until I was in college (where I bravely made up for lost time).
2) I grew up in the sticks. I supposed there are more remote places than Deming, WA. But when you're fifteen, living twenty minutes drive from the nearest "city" is tortuous. Suffice it to say, there's not a whole lot to do.
3) I am changing names to protect the not so innocent. But I know at least one of you reads this. Feel free to pipe in if my memory is hazy and I forget something.

Our story begins in quaint little Van Zandt, Washington, a tiny hamlet nestled, well, in the middle of nowhere. Though it does boast Everybody's Store (a.k.a. the Nickel Pickle, because they sold - maybe still sell - huge dills for a nickel). My dearest friend Bianca (we're going for the glamour names here) grew up out in those parts, and I and two other girlfriends were having a sleepover on a Friday night.

The rest of the posse - Antonia and Roxanne. Sitting around on a Friday night. What to do? A plan began to brew.

We were constantly hearing of the escapades the boys were having now that they were driving. Cool stuff like laying on top of a car going 45 mph down a county road and mailbox baseball. Why couldn't we go raise a little hell?

First thing (if memory serves) - we stole a sign. We were badasses, but not without conscience, so we thoughtfully selected a sign that would not cause a traffic problem. A Dead End sign. Conveniently, there was such a sign just down the road. After dark, we piled in Roxanne's car (she and Antonia were 16 - Bianca and I were still a few months off). There are no street lights out that way so we were under the cover of night - and dove into the ditch (which was surprisingly deep) when the occasional car passed. You may think knocking down a sign is pretty simple. Well, it's not. What we failed to recognize is that the sign post itself was probably ten feet tall. So once we had that sucker down, we couldn't fit it into the sedan Roxanne was driving. We thought fast - we opened the trunk, two of us climbed in, and held onto the signpost as it lay across the back of the car. The mile drive back to Bianca's house was harrowing - considering the sign went about three feet into the oncoming lane. Brilliant!

Once safely back at Bianca's house, we stashed the sign and cooked up a bunch of spaghetti. Noodles only, no sauce. I'm not sure if we had a plan for them at that moment, but we packed up the pasta and headed to town.

Next on the agenda - supplies. We went to the first grocery store as we came into Bellingham and loaded up - toilet paper, eggs, and plastic forks. If you are not familiar with teenage pranks, three of the basics are tp-ing, egging, and - wait for it - forking. I will explain this later and it is supremely stupid. But I digress.

We checked out and as we were loading our loot in the parking lot one of us noticed the car of an upperclassman - aka, victim number one. This is where the pasta was deployed. I can't remember completely, but somehow the pasta ended up all over the hood of her car. Yes, lame. But I'm pretty sure she was pissed and thought someone else did it - boys. HA!

That was only half of the spaghetti - I think we threw the rest at some random pedestrian on the way back out to the county.

Victim number 2 was not really a victim at all. He was a 19 or 20 year old guy who was the driver when a bunch of guys from my class egged my house the previous summer. The worst part was they were INVITED to my party - and egged my house instead. This is where the forking came in - we each took a pack of plastic forks and stuck them all over in his (parents) front lawn. Oh my stars! What a bunch of hooligans! I would be surprised if we didn't throw some eggs as well. It would have only been fitting.

Victim number 3 was a guy in our class. He lived right on the main highway and for some reason we felt his house would be a good one to toilet paper.

We slowed down in front and Roxanne cut the lights as we pulled into the driveway. We jumped out, armed with our toilet paper. I'm sure army crawling was involved. We needed to move fast, and have our getaway car ready if we needed to flee. Remember, the headlights are out on the car, and it's probably about 1 am. Three of us were doing a VERY CRAPPY JOB of toilet papering (we had little or no experience) and Roxanne began to back down the driveway onto the highway to get turned around.

And then we heard it - a screech and a crash.The three of us ran down to the highway to find Roxanne sitting dazed in the drivers seat, a truck with a dented front fender and a really pissed off dude.

We all jumped into the car and I won't name any names but ONE of us yelled "Drive, drive!" Roxanne threw the car into gear and drove.

Truck guy ran to his truck and tore after us. At this point we knew we couldn't outrun him so we pulled into the our high school parking lot. Someone was a quick thinker and explained to angry truck guy that we wanted to get off the freeway and under some lights! Whew - hit and run charge averted!

Numbers were exchanged - but no pleasantries. Angry truck guy left (looking back, I'm pretty sure he was drunk) and we sat in the deserted parking lot. I think we were probably crying at this point. We were in massive trouble, for sure.

The crying continued all the way back to Bianca's house, and the last thing I remember about the night was sitting on Bianca's floor in a circle, hands clasped in prayer. Please God, please don't let our parents find out. The prayer of a teenager.

I don't know about anyone else, but my parents didn't find out. In fact, I told my mother nearly six years later. She was still shocked. But she couldn't ground me.

So that's my story of teenage shenanigans. After this night, I was a little gun shy about pranks and tomfoolery - and then I went out with a guy for two years and became insufferably lame and boring.

But I'll always have that night! Thanks ladies!