Wow, have I ever gone over a week without writing since I started this thing? Yikes. Busy week, apparently.
Since we last left our heroine, she has been busily accomplishing the following tasks:
Finishing her trial level memo, which involved Herculean efforts and many late nights, culminating with a Saturday night all-nighter, which turned into a Sunday morning bedtime of 5:45am and a grand total of 90 minutes of sleep.
Baking three kinds of quiche for her classmates for the trial memo breakfast buffet in order to stay awake (can't go to sleep if something's in the oven...)
Running out of eggs with which to make a banana bread; using the last frozen zucchini bread in its place (which defrosted and served beautifully after residing in the freezer since August).
Proceeding to thank heaven, stars, and Professor B for cutting Contracts class short in order to go home, nap for 2.5 hours, get up, and go with Ric to the Santana/Derek Trucks show.
Rocking out in the 12th row for said show, throughly enjoying both performers and falling in love with even MORE awesome music (as if that's possible). Two amazing guitar players (one new, one living legend) in one night. Smokin' hot blues/slide on one side, Latin fusion on the other. Just can't help but smile when the timbales and congas come out.
Making Ric buy girly beer.
Working like mad on memos for the last week.
Talking with Mom for a few hours and processing the fact that, yes, my parents are now officially divorced, and while better about it, it's not over for me. Knowing she's in a good place about it helps.
Gaining clarity and perspective on a lot of things, which I had hoped to do a long, long time ago. Understanding that it couldn't have come any sooner, and hoping that I've done what it takes to come out of this particular trial with a sense of maturity and a renewed purpose.
Re-ramping up my training, getting back in the pool and on the run...waiting for a good few days to get on the bike and enjoy some of the Minnesota hills we have 'round these parts. Timed a race pace 800 on Tuesday at 18:44 (2:20/100 pace. Not bad! Definitely getting better. Will continue to improve on that - would like to get down to a 2:00/100 pace for a 16 minute swim in the pool - hopefully that translates into an open water swim of about the same amount. Factors: no stop/turnaround every 25, no lane lines and more people/veering, not an exact distance, plus in/out time.)
Dealing with a reeeeeeeeeeally sore lower back, hoping it is from too much butt-in-seat studying and training, and not an injury.
Cooking dinner for my SIL and D., the classmate I set her up with a couple weeks ago. They claimed to have had a bad first date, which I found out last night was a double-sided PUNK on both their parts. And I was the victim. Apparently, they hit it off really well, had a great time, and are very happy to be seeing each other. Ungrateful little you-know-whats had the gall to come to my house and eat my food, and punk me.
At least D. fits in with Clan Thompson in that respect: we have a tendency to punk, practical joke, and surprise each other with regularity. Not only that, we're good at it.
I am happy they are hitting it off - she's a great girl, he's a really nice guy, and they both deserve some good times.
Song in my head: Africa Bamba, Santana
I heard this song for the first time at the Santana concert Sunday night, and remembered it because of the refrain "Ella, baila la portuguesa." My sis was a Brazilian exchange student and by proxy, I am sensitive to anything that says or purports to relate to Brazil or Portuguese. The song itself is so pretty and danceable - I looked up the lyrics, and was surprised to discover that my Spanish isn't so rusty that I couldn't translate them - and more importantly, translate the idioms (dar la luz literally means "to give light", but used in context means "childbirth.") Senoras C. y P. y Profesora R., gracias...something in my seven years of studying Spanish must have stuck.
The song just has a lovely meaning to it - I think I have found the first song on the Summer of Awesome soundtrack. Take a look (translation provided below):
Estoy llamando a todas las morenas
Y las llamada la viene da la luz
Con calma se baila esta danza
Y con amor canto yo esta cancion
Africa bamba ase a un lado a la tristeza
Y otra mas dulce no la podras encontrar
Oye eso te va sentir feliz
Ella baila la portugueza
Translation:
I am talking to/calling on all the beautiful brunette ladies
And also those women/mothers who give birth
With calm confidence, you should dance this dance.
And with love, I sing this song.
Africa bamba - cast aside your sadness
And you will not find a sweeter one (song/dance)
Listen to it, and you will feel happy.
Girl, dance the Portuguese dance...
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Summer of Awesome
I hereby declare the upcoming season, colloquially known as summer, lasting generally from Memorial Day Weekend (commencing on or about May 24, 2008) through Labor Day Weekend (ending on or about September 1, 2008) to be the Summer of Awesome.
The Summer of Awesome shall involve the following events:
1. A visit from Jordana and Todd
2. A trip to Phoenix with Kate, the girl, the mom and the sister for four days' respite, sleep, pool lounging, spa pampering, shopping and general laziness in order to shake off the rigors of a year of law school and the Most Stupidest Winter Ever.
3. A quick bout of summer school, ending on or about June 5.
4. A visit to Tennessee to see the in-laws.
5. A roadtrip to Summerfest with the sister in law to see AKeys on 7/1 and JM 7/2.
6. Continuation of said roadtrip to the S-T-L to party with the sister, see JM 7/3, and watch the fireworks over the Mighty Mississippi from Gateway Park.
7. A quick return home, then a roadtrip to Danskin Chicagoland with Sooz 7/12-7/13.
8. A quick return home, then yet another roadtrip to Chicago to meet up with girls from all over the nation, flying in to meet up in the Windy City for JM 7/18, and a girls' weekend downtown to follow.
9. My first Olympic tri on 8/2 - 8/3 in Duluth.
10. My 2L year starting on 8/9.
11. Y camp for the girl at a drastically reduced rate (and only when we need it!) approximately three days a week, and getting to keep her at home with me twice a week to do fun mom/daughter stuff.
12. Campaigning for Franken, hopefully for a bit of law school credit.
13. Minnesota State Fair the last weekend of August, winding up on Labor Day.
The official end of the Summer of Awesome shall occur on or about September 2, 2008, when I send the girl off for her first day of kindergarten. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I do know that she will know how to write her name, will likely wear a dress, she will be carrying a pink Hello Kitty backpack, will hopefully have her hair arranged in some semblance of order, and will pose for a picture outside our house.
Three weeks til finals can't pass soon enough. I'm ready to be done with being a 1L.
(And yes, you did count that correctly: I am going to three JM shows this summer.)
The Summer of Awesome shall involve the following events:
1. A visit from Jordana and Todd
2. A trip to Phoenix with Kate, the girl, the mom and the sister for four days' respite, sleep, pool lounging, spa pampering, shopping and general laziness in order to shake off the rigors of a year of law school and the Most Stupidest Winter Ever.
3. A quick bout of summer school, ending on or about June 5.
4. A visit to Tennessee to see the in-laws.
5. A roadtrip to Summerfest with the sister in law to see AKeys on 7/1 and JM 7/2.
6. Continuation of said roadtrip to the S-T-L to party with the sister, see JM 7/3, and watch the fireworks over the Mighty Mississippi from Gateway Park.
7. A quick return home, then a roadtrip to Danskin Chicagoland with Sooz 7/12-7/13.
8. A quick return home, then yet another roadtrip to Chicago to meet up with girls from all over the nation, flying in to meet up in the Windy City for JM 7/18, and a girls' weekend downtown to follow.
9. My first Olympic tri on 8/2 - 8/3 in Duluth.
10. My 2L year starting on 8/9.
11. Y camp for the girl at a drastically reduced rate (and only when we need it!) approximately three days a week, and getting to keep her at home with me twice a week to do fun mom/daughter stuff.
12. Campaigning for Franken, hopefully for a bit of law school credit.
13. Minnesota State Fair the last weekend of August, winding up on Labor Day.
The official end of the Summer of Awesome shall occur on or about September 2, 2008, when I send the girl off for her first day of kindergarten. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I do know that she will know how to write her name, will likely wear a dress, she will be carrying a pink Hello Kitty backpack, will hopefully have her hair arranged in some semblance of order, and will pose for a picture outside our house.
Three weeks til finals can't pass soon enough. I'm ready to be done with being a 1L.
(And yes, you did count that correctly: I am going to three JM shows this summer.)
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Smatterings
It's Memo Week, which explains my notable absence here. Law school is kicking my arse but good, and I can't help but feel overwhelmed that my first year has ended so quickly. Seems scary.
My parents' final divorce hearing is on Friday. I hope they are happier without each other than they were with. I hope Dad feels like he can move on. I hope Mom doesn't feel guilty or like a failure.
Mostly I hope they have the fortitude to shake hands, say goodbye, and let each other go. Not an easy thing to do after 33 years, one week and six days. But who's counting?
The girl is in the wait pool for Expensive Private School - we had an interview last month and unfortunately she did not get offered outright admission. As a veteran of the waitlist, I understand completely. The boy was devastated - I was less so. Mostly because the worry of the tuition price tag was just lifted. There's still a chance she could get in, and I certainly hope she does because no matter the struggle to pay the bill, it's a fantastic fit for her. "We believe Girl would thrive at EPS" said the quasi-rejection letter. I couldn't agree more.
We're now on the hunt for another school for her. School choice is such a double edged sword.
Off to outline and memo.
Yesterday's Training
Walked 3.2 miles with my sister in law outdoors. I desperately needed the sunshine and though the lake was still covered in thin ice, it was a glorious day.
My parents' final divorce hearing is on Friday. I hope they are happier without each other than they were with. I hope Dad feels like he can move on. I hope Mom doesn't feel guilty or like a failure.
Mostly I hope they have the fortitude to shake hands, say goodbye, and let each other go. Not an easy thing to do after 33 years, one week and six days. But who's counting?
The girl is in the wait pool for Expensive Private School - we had an interview last month and unfortunately she did not get offered outright admission. As a veteran of the waitlist, I understand completely. The boy was devastated - I was less so. Mostly because the worry of the tuition price tag was just lifted. There's still a chance she could get in, and I certainly hope she does because no matter the struggle to pay the bill, it's a fantastic fit for her. "We believe Girl would thrive at EPS" said the quasi-rejection letter. I couldn't agree more.
We're now on the hunt for another school for her. School choice is such a double edged sword.
Off to outline and memo.
Yesterday's Training
Walked 3.2 miles with my sister in law outdoors. I desperately needed the sunshine and though the lake was still covered in thin ice, it was a glorious day.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Shampoo, Rinse, Repeat
My hair is long.
Really long.
Not quite Crystal Gale-long, but long. Past my bra strap long. I love it.
It is a weird brownish reddish blondish color that usually settles on normal brown after a few days without a wash. It's very very thick, coarsely textured, and in certain spots, has enough natural curl to border on kinky. It gets pretty wild at times but I have neither the skill nor the fortitude to wrestle my mane through a flat iron every damn day. I usually go for a trim and blow out every six weeks.
I plan to keep it long until such time as professionalism dictates that I cut it. I hope that whatever job I have as an attorney is one where they don't care how long my hair is.
I only wash it about once a week, despite my level of activity, mostly because I find if I rinse out the chlorine, and brush through it a couple times a day, it stays in good shape. I can ponytail it, braid it, or leave it loose. If I let it air dry in braids, the natural curl stays pretty well. It also gets really thick and voluminous. I'll be honest; I don't like my hair the day I wash it. Too flyaway for my tastes. My "best" hair is usually a day or two after I wash it- it's got enough oil worked through it to stand up to whatever I want to do to it; it's got body and shine, and it feels good - not heavy, not super light.
Fridays are a good day to wash my hair - and trust me, when you have hair as long as mine, it's a process. Here's how I do it:
Brush hair, remove all excess loose hair.
Comb with wide tooth comb, remove knots
Step into shower, wet hair, squeeze excess.
Wash with "defunktify" shampoo to remove excess oil, buildup and chlorine.
Rinse.
Wash with "Straighten Up" shampoo to add shine and a bit of weight; hopefully control a bit of kink and frizz.
Rinse.
Comb with wide tooth comb, remove knots and loose hair.
Squeeze excess water.
Condition with "Straighten Up" conditioner. Apply in sections. Leave in for 2-4 minutes whilst washing up the rest of me.
Rinse me.
Rinse hair until hands run through without catching on knots, continue to rinse until hair feels evenly conditioned.
Squeeze excess water.
Comb once again.
Bend over, apply towel to hair in "babushka" fashion, dry rest of me.
Leave towel on hair while finishing personal grooming and dressing. (At least 10 minutes)
Bend over, remove towel and rub hair a bit more.
Comb once again.
Apply leave-in conditioning lotion and comb yet again.
Braid or leave loose to air dry.
Comb yet again, brush once completely dry.
Repeat next Friday.
Really long.
Not quite Crystal Gale-long, but long. Past my bra strap long. I love it.
It is a weird brownish reddish blondish color that usually settles on normal brown after a few days without a wash. It's very very thick, coarsely textured, and in certain spots, has enough natural curl to border on kinky. It gets pretty wild at times but I have neither the skill nor the fortitude to wrestle my mane through a flat iron every damn day. I usually go for a trim and blow out every six weeks.
I plan to keep it long until such time as professionalism dictates that I cut it. I hope that whatever job I have as an attorney is one where they don't care how long my hair is.
I only wash it about once a week, despite my level of activity, mostly because I find if I rinse out the chlorine, and brush through it a couple times a day, it stays in good shape. I can ponytail it, braid it, or leave it loose. If I let it air dry in braids, the natural curl stays pretty well. It also gets really thick and voluminous. I'll be honest; I don't like my hair the day I wash it. Too flyaway for my tastes. My "best" hair is usually a day or two after I wash it- it's got enough oil worked through it to stand up to whatever I want to do to it; it's got body and shine, and it feels good - not heavy, not super light.
Fridays are a good day to wash my hair - and trust me, when you have hair as long as mine, it's a process. Here's how I do it:
Brush hair, remove all excess loose hair.
Comb with wide tooth comb, remove knots
Step into shower, wet hair, squeeze excess.
Wash with "defunktify" shampoo to remove excess oil, buildup and chlorine.
Rinse.
Wash with "Straighten Up" shampoo to add shine and a bit of weight; hopefully control a bit of kink and frizz.
Rinse.
Comb with wide tooth comb, remove knots and loose hair.
Squeeze excess water.
Condition with "Straighten Up" conditioner. Apply in sections. Leave in for 2-4 minutes whilst washing up the rest of me.
Rinse me.
Rinse hair until hands run through without catching on knots, continue to rinse until hair feels evenly conditioned.
Squeeze excess water.
Comb once again.
Bend over, apply towel to hair in "babushka" fashion, dry rest of me.
Leave towel on hair while finishing personal grooming and dressing. (At least 10 minutes)
Bend over, remove towel and rub hair a bit more.
Comb once again.
Apply leave-in conditioning lotion and comb yet again.
Braid or leave loose to air dry.
Comb yet again, brush once completely dry.
Repeat next Friday.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Training Log: 4/10/08
Swimming
Warmup: 100 Pull, 50 Kick
Main Set: 3x400 (45 RI)
Cooldown: 50 Breast
Total Yards:1400
Running
10 mins walking
Intervals - 5:2 x 2 (fast mile) 12:05
Total Distance: 2.5 miles
I went to the gym on Wednesday with my sister in law and did a fairly intense 30 minutes on the elliptical machine - then tried to up my intervals today. Bad news.
Oh right! We've been training for almost 4 solid weeks! Time to level off a bit and toss in a recovery week!
When I was running my "fast mile" yesterday, I could actually feel my upper body's weight. It's odd- I havent' felt the sensation of a really heavy front load since I was pregnant with the girl, but there it was yesterday on the treadmill. I think I really need to get my eating in shape - I've always had a really rough time losing weight, but I don't like the way my body felt yesterday.
In fact, I actually had the sensation of where I wanted my body to be (lithe, flatter, more toned) and it felt like I was wearing one of those expectant father's sympathy bellies or something. I could feel where I wanted my body to end.
I sometimes wonder whether I'm beating my head against a wall with all the training and working out, or if eventually, one of these days, something will change and I will maybe, just maybe, lose a little weight. I love the shape my legs have taken since I got back into the gym- I can feel the tone there and I know I'm stronger. Likewise, my arms are still chicken-wingy but I feel stronger, and the ache I feel after 1200 well-paced yards in the pool is a satisfying one.
I eat pretty well, most of the time. I don't play games with the number on the scale - I can tell myself everything I want about the number not mattering, and about muscles being denser than fat, and all the other things you tell yourself. Point is, if I want to be a better athlete I have to continue to train, and I'll get more out of my training if I fuel the machine properly.
Farmer's market opens in two weeks and I.CAN.NOT.WAIT.
Warmup: 100 Pull, 50 Kick
Main Set: 3x400 (45 RI)
Cooldown: 50 Breast
Total Yards:1400
Running
10 mins walking
Intervals - 5:2 x 2 (fast mile) 12:05
Total Distance: 2.5 miles
I went to the gym on Wednesday with my sister in law and did a fairly intense 30 minutes on the elliptical machine - then tried to up my intervals today. Bad news.
Oh right! We've been training for almost 4 solid weeks! Time to level off a bit and toss in a recovery week!
When I was running my "fast mile" yesterday, I could actually feel my upper body's weight. It's odd- I havent' felt the sensation of a really heavy front load since I was pregnant with the girl, but there it was yesterday on the treadmill. I think I really need to get my eating in shape - I've always had a really rough time losing weight, but I don't like the way my body felt yesterday.
In fact, I actually had the sensation of where I wanted my body to be (lithe, flatter, more toned) and it felt like I was wearing one of those expectant father's sympathy bellies or something. I could feel where I wanted my body to end.
I sometimes wonder whether I'm beating my head against a wall with all the training and working out, or if eventually, one of these days, something will change and I will maybe, just maybe, lose a little weight. I love the shape my legs have taken since I got back into the gym- I can feel the tone there and I know I'm stronger. Likewise, my arms are still chicken-wingy but I feel stronger, and the ache I feel after 1200 well-paced yards in the pool is a satisfying one.
I eat pretty well, most of the time. I don't play games with the number on the scale - I can tell myself everything I want about the number not mattering, and about muscles being denser than fat, and all the other things you tell yourself. Point is, if I want to be a better athlete I have to continue to train, and I'll get more out of my training if I fuel the machine properly.
Farmer's market opens in two weeks and I.CAN.NOT.WAIT.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Girly Talk
This morning at the breakfast table, after a round of Idontwannagodaschooool (Mom 3, Girl 0):
Girl: Darn it!
Me: Girl, we don't say that. It's a grown up word. How about...pickles!
Girl: Darn it!
Me: Tartar sauce!
Girl: Darn it!
Me: Barnacles?
Girl: Mom, it's my new word and I want to use it! Darn it!
********
New words in her vocabulary: organizing, bloom, and ridiculous. "Ridiculous" has actually been with us for quite some time - since about age 2 1/2 - 3 or so. However, she now pronounces it correctly - it used to be "a-dick-a-yus." She still has a few baby steps to go with her speech - mostly mixing up m's and n's (nusic is a prime example) and she will substitute a "th" for an "f" at the end of a word ("stuth" instead of "stuff"). She also adds an "n" onto the front of "used to" (so it comes out noosed to).
Her mind is so alive. Light bulbs go on for her every day as she continues to explore the world. I see the evolution of her person, her sociological self - it happens month by month, sometimes week by week. She gets frustrated when we jump to conclusions and isn't afraid of letting us know when we simplyaren't listening. She is by and large a mindful child - at every center and school we've ever used, she's gotten exemplary praise from her teachers as to her ability to follow directions and mind the teacher. I think she'd go stir crazy if she didn't let out her disobedient side at home - nobody's perfect and we try not to pressure her in that way.
I once read that the parents' job is to give their child space to grow and become their own person. I couldn't agree more with that statement - too many times parents choose to live vicariously through their children, impressing their own lost dreams and desires upon them without regard for the child's feelings. Would I love the girl to be a world class pianist? Absolutely - she's got the fingers for it, no doubt. Would I love for her to take dance class and gymnastics? You bet - I wanted to be Mary Lou Retton, and I never bothered to ask my parents for dance class because I was convinced they would say no.
When she comes to me and asks if we can do something, or if she can take lessons on something - I think it will be my job to give her a hug, check the bank account, and say, "Yes. You can do that." And then help her see it through.
My thoughts are all over the place this morning - but it all comes down to wanting the best for my girl, and learning her inside as well as I know her outside.
Girl: Darn it!
Me: Girl, we don't say that. It's a grown up word. How about...pickles!
Girl: Darn it!
Me: Tartar sauce!
Girl: Darn it!
Me: Barnacles?
Girl: Mom, it's my new word and I want to use it! Darn it!
********
New words in her vocabulary: organizing, bloom, and ridiculous. "Ridiculous" has actually been with us for quite some time - since about age 2 1/2 - 3 or so. However, she now pronounces it correctly - it used to be "a-dick-a-yus." She still has a few baby steps to go with her speech - mostly mixing up m's and n's (nusic is a prime example) and she will substitute a "th" for an "f" at the end of a word ("stuth" instead of "stuff"). She also adds an "n" onto the front of "used to" (so it comes out noosed to).
Her mind is so alive. Light bulbs go on for her every day as she continues to explore the world. I see the evolution of her person, her sociological self - it happens month by month, sometimes week by week. She gets frustrated when we jump to conclusions and isn't afraid of letting us know when we simplyaren't listening. She is by and large a mindful child - at every center and school we've ever used, she's gotten exemplary praise from her teachers as to her ability to follow directions and mind the teacher. I think she'd go stir crazy if she didn't let out her disobedient side at home - nobody's perfect and we try not to pressure her in that way.
I once read that the parents' job is to give their child space to grow and become their own person. I couldn't agree more with that statement - too many times parents choose to live vicariously through their children, impressing their own lost dreams and desires upon them without regard for the child's feelings. Would I love the girl to be a world class pianist? Absolutely - she's got the fingers for it, no doubt. Would I love for her to take dance class and gymnastics? You bet - I wanted to be Mary Lou Retton, and I never bothered to ask my parents for dance class because I was convinced they would say no.
When she comes to me and asks if we can do something, or if she can take lessons on something - I think it will be my job to give her a hug, check the bank account, and say, "Yes. You can do that." And then help her see it through.
My thoughts are all over the place this morning - but it all comes down to wanting the best for my girl, and learning her inside as well as I know her outside.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Training Log: 4/8/08
Today's Training
Swimming
100 free warmup
25 minutes continuous swim (10 sec or less RI, minimal use)
(1000 yards/25:00 = 2:30/100 pace)
50 breast cooldown
Total Yardage:1150
Today I wanted to test my endurance - so far I feel like I've been doing better at the drills, and my 400's are coming easier to me. I decided to just swim continuously for 25 minutes, at a decent pace, and see how far I could go. This is a good way to gauge your training - I will do this again in about six weeks I think, and hopefully my yardage goes up in the same amount of time. Either that or I will extend the time and just decide to swim X yards no matter how long it takes.
My training plan says a 25 minute swim should be around 900-1200 yards, and I fell right into that with 1000. I will have to start increasing my distance soon - I will start throwing 800s pretty regularly now - and I'll work up to a second 800 so I do 2x800 with probably a 2 min RI...then start putting it all together. Once I've got that going, I can work into a "fast" 800 if that's all I'm doing, so I can pump my speed up for the tri.
By the math, I was averaging about 38 seconds per length (25 yards). Last week when I did my descending 100's, my first length was 34 - and I thought I was swimming slow. I definitely slowed down toward the end of the 1000 - my arms were tired and I was losing form. I will definitely need to do some recovery/drill work next week so I can up my yardage without killing my form, arms, or time. Endurance first, then speed.
Bike weather is coming up...I haven't NOT been on my bike in April since before I started triathon. In other words, NEVER. I need to get some cold weather rides in before too long - the spring winds and hills make for great force and endurance workouts. Will also make the transition to outdoor runs soon. That's tougher for me - running is easily my hardest challenge.
Swimming
100 free warmup
25 minutes continuous swim (10 sec or less RI, minimal use)
(1000 yards/25:00 = 2:30/100 pace)
50 breast cooldown
Total Yardage:1150
Today I wanted to test my endurance - so far I feel like I've been doing better at the drills, and my 400's are coming easier to me. I decided to just swim continuously for 25 minutes, at a decent pace, and see how far I could go. This is a good way to gauge your training - I will do this again in about six weeks I think, and hopefully my yardage goes up in the same amount of time. Either that or I will extend the time and just decide to swim X yards no matter how long it takes.
My training plan says a 25 minute swim should be around 900-1200 yards, and I fell right into that with 1000. I will have to start increasing my distance soon - I will start throwing 800s pretty regularly now - and I'll work up to a second 800 so I do 2x800 with probably a 2 min RI...then start putting it all together. Once I've got that going, I can work into a "fast" 800 if that's all I'm doing, so I can pump my speed up for the tri.
By the math, I was averaging about 38 seconds per length (25 yards). Last week when I did my descending 100's, my first length was 34 - and I thought I was swimming slow. I definitely slowed down toward the end of the 1000 - my arms were tired and I was losing form. I will definitely need to do some recovery/drill work next week so I can up my yardage without killing my form, arms, or time. Endurance first, then speed.
Bike weather is coming up...I haven't NOT been on my bike in April since before I started triathon. In other words, NEVER. I need to get some cold weather rides in before too long - the spring winds and hills make for great force and endurance workouts. Will also make the transition to outdoor runs soon. That's tougher for me - running is easily my hardest challenge.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Sakura
As you can see up yonder, I have placed a picture of a sakura tree in full bloom at the top of my blog. I have been constantly thinking about its symbolism and message since I read JM's blog and referenced it about a week ago.
Life is so temporal...ups and downs, hurt and healing, reflection and renewal. Karen's anniversary was this past Wednesday, and I believe this picture sums up her spirit and tenacity - things which I admire and desire:
Karen broke out her wedding dress and ran around a park with a bunch of friends taking pictures. This one is my favorite.
I referenced the sakura tree before, but I don't think I fully fleshed out my thought.
In Japan the cherry blossoms are believed to exemplify the transient nature of life, because of their short blooming times. Cherry blossoms also symbolize clouds due to their nature of blooming en masse, besides being an enduring metaphor for the ephemeral nature of life, an aspect of Japanese cultural tradition that is often associated with Buddhistic influence, and which is embodied in the concept of mono no aware, or "a sensitivity to things." The association of the sakura with mono no aware dates back to 18th-century scholar Motoori Norinaga. The transience of the blossoms, the extreme beauty and quick death, has often been associated with mortality; for this reason, sakura are richly symbolic, and have been utilized often in Japanese art, manga, anime, and film, as well as at musical performances for ambient effect. -Wikipedia
I took a class in Japanese Culture and Politics in undergrad, and I remember my impression of Japanese culture as being drastically different, and yet, simple and completely alien and beautiful. The logic of following the symbol of renewal in native botany in order to renew one's spirit and begin a new business year seems perfectly reasonable to me...rather than stating "on the second Tuesday in October," the timing is just "when the sakura bloom." Talk about sensitivity and harmony with nature.
I found quite a few color pictures of the sakura in full bloom, and I was stuck at how amazingly colorful they are. The trees are tall and often cover a sidewalk; in broad daylight they appear to turn the sky pink. I can only imagine what it must look like in person; one of these days I will have to go to Japan and experience it for myself. Perhaps I'll have my own little hanami under a tree in Shibuya, and I'll look up to a floral pink sky, reflect upon my life, and hopefully have no regrets.
Life is so temporal...ups and downs, hurt and healing, reflection and renewal. Karen's anniversary was this past Wednesday, and I believe this picture sums up her spirit and tenacity - things which I admire and desire:
Karen broke out her wedding dress and ran around a park with a bunch of friends taking pictures. This one is my favorite.
I referenced the sakura tree before, but I don't think I fully fleshed out my thought.
In Japan the cherry blossoms are believed to exemplify the transient nature of life, because of their short blooming times. Cherry blossoms also symbolize clouds due to their nature of blooming en masse, besides being an enduring metaphor for the ephemeral nature of life, an aspect of Japanese cultural tradition that is often associated with Buddhistic influence, and which is embodied in the concept of mono no aware, or "a sensitivity to things." The association of the sakura with mono no aware dates back to 18th-century scholar Motoori Norinaga. The transience of the blossoms, the extreme beauty and quick death, has often been associated with mortality; for this reason, sakura are richly symbolic, and have been utilized often in Japanese art, manga, anime, and film, as well as at musical performances for ambient effect. -Wikipedia
I took a class in Japanese Culture and Politics in undergrad, and I remember my impression of Japanese culture as being drastically different, and yet, simple and completely alien and beautiful. The logic of following the symbol of renewal in native botany in order to renew one's spirit and begin a new business year seems perfectly reasonable to me...rather than stating "on the second Tuesday in October," the timing is just "when the sakura bloom." Talk about sensitivity and harmony with nature.
I found quite a few color pictures of the sakura in full bloom, and I was stuck at how amazingly colorful they are. The trees are tall and often cover a sidewalk; in broad daylight they appear to turn the sky pink. I can only imagine what it must look like in person; one of these days I will have to go to Japan and experience it for myself. Perhaps I'll have my own little hanami under a tree in Shibuya, and I'll look up to a floral pink sky, reflect upon my life, and hopefully have no regrets.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Utterly Random Free Association Blather
I received notice that I got a spot in the second section of the summer school class for which I was waitlisted. It's a 2-credit short course and it will be done by the first week of June. Kate is taking it with me, so I'm pretty jazzed.
I dropped Crim Pro for the summer. Too much other stuff I want to do, and I really want the girl to be home with me this summer. We're both burnt out on school and she could do with some quality mom time. This should motivate me to get out more with her as well as keep myself actively exploring my new environs. She's going to day camp 3 days a week when she's not traveling to grandparents and relatives. I want this summer to full-on rock. We all need it.
My summer reading (now that I am going to be law school free) is The Tale of Genji. Note to self: head down to the used bookstore and find a copy in order to promote re-use. Walk to store. Parking is horrible and useless, and walking will promote greener living and overall health. Alternative: ride bike.
Training is coming back to me like an old friend. It helps to have a new friend there with me.
January was the month of the mental.
February was the month of the academic.
March was the month of the physical.
April will be the month of the epicurean.
What shall I work on next?
Domestic, Spiritual, Literary, Sartorial, Financial, Motivational... my life feels so present and full of potential right now. I have a huge dichotomy going on: I feel like the active searching for a relationship with my family of origin (and really, what all that means to my foundation and my future) is pointing me toward getting my own house in order. In a way I'm trying to reconcile my past with what I want for myself.
Life is so fluid and intangible, yet riddled with rules and order and certain inflexibilities.
There is so much to learn in this life; it is a wonder anyone gets anything accomplished. I don't believe in business jargon, or mission and vision statements, but I do believe in goals. Resolutions falter, motivation wanes. Influence invades. If forced to boil my life's goal into one sentence it couldn't be as trite as "be a better person." That's too vague.
A tentative life goal: Open to change, accepting and mindful, constant in effort.
Is that too ambitious?
Today's Training
Running
Virtual 5K (repeat of Thursday)
6 x 3/3 intervals (5.1/3.6 speed)
Total Time/Distance:42:30/3.1 miles
Overall, this felt better than Thursday. I beat my time by 3:20 and more importantly, was more consistent in the run. I got 1:30 into a 7th interval and just couldn't pull it out. Next time I will. A 7th interval will just about get me across the finish line. Once I can do that on a 3:3 comfortably, it's time to up the interval to a 4:2. Sooz says she's got a road race for us the end of the month, and I can't wait!
I dropped Crim Pro for the summer. Too much other stuff I want to do, and I really want the girl to be home with me this summer. We're both burnt out on school and she could do with some quality mom time. This should motivate me to get out more with her as well as keep myself actively exploring my new environs. She's going to day camp 3 days a week when she's not traveling to grandparents and relatives. I want this summer to full-on rock. We all need it.
My summer reading (now that I am going to be law school free) is The Tale of Genji. Note to self: head down to the used bookstore and find a copy in order to promote re-use. Walk to store. Parking is horrible and useless, and walking will promote greener living and overall health. Alternative: ride bike.
Training is coming back to me like an old friend. It helps to have a new friend there with me.
January was the month of the mental.
February was the month of the academic.
March was the month of the physical.
April will be the month of the epicurean.
What shall I work on next?
Domestic, Spiritual, Literary, Sartorial, Financial, Motivational... my life feels so present and full of potential right now. I have a huge dichotomy going on: I feel like the active searching for a relationship with my family of origin (and really, what all that means to my foundation and my future) is pointing me toward getting my own house in order. In a way I'm trying to reconcile my past with what I want for myself.
Life is so fluid and intangible, yet riddled with rules and order and certain inflexibilities.
There is so much to learn in this life; it is a wonder anyone gets anything accomplished. I don't believe in business jargon, or mission and vision statements, but I do believe in goals. Resolutions falter, motivation wanes. Influence invades. If forced to boil my life's goal into one sentence it couldn't be as trite as "be a better person." That's too vague.
A tentative life goal: Open to change, accepting and mindful, constant in effort.
Is that too ambitious?
Today's Training
Running
Virtual 5K (repeat of Thursday)
6 x 3/3 intervals (5.1/3.6 speed)
Total Time/Distance:42:30/3.1 miles
Overall, this felt better than Thursday. I beat my time by 3:20 and more importantly, was more consistent in the run. I got 1:30 into a 7th interval and just couldn't pull it out. Next time I will. A 7th interval will just about get me across the finish line. Once I can do that on a 3:3 comfortably, it's time to up the interval to a 4:2. Sooz says she's got a road race for us the end of the month, and I can't wait!
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Training Update: 4/1-4/3/2008
Forgot to add Tuesday's workout to my training log:
Swimming
Warmup: 100 Free
Main Set: 4x200, 45 RI
Descending 100 (34, 31, 24.8, 24.4)
Cooldown: 100 Free
Total Yardage:1100
I felt good on this one - forcing myself to keep a tempo through the 200's was good practice. Altogether the times were fairly consistent. The descender was a pain in the butt - the first two were fine, then on the third, I thrashed it out and took too much time off. Overcompensated and lost my form on the fourth and ended up chopping big holes in the water instead of moving quickly and efficiently. Life lesson.
Today's Training:
Swimming
Warmup: 150 (50 pull, 50 kick, 50 free)
Main Set: Down Ladder (400, 45 RI, 300, 45 RI, 200, 20 RI, 100) with descending pace
Cooldown: 50 Free, 50 Breast
Total Yardage:1250
The Down Ladder is a great pacing tool - if you know you have another 200 to go, you swim a little more conservatively. If you've only got 100 total, you push it. My times reflected that today - I'm really learning how to pace myself in the pool. Now that my form is coming back I'm better able to do some of the faster paces and sprints in the end of the workout, and that just bodes well for my ability to race this year.
Running
Virtual 5K (treadmill) Time:46:30
Intervals: Six minutes at a 3/3 split x 6 (36 minutes), 2.4 miles, 3.4/4.9 split.
10:30 at 3.5-3.9 to finish last .7 miles.
I can tell that I was pushing a bit with the intervals. I need to work on getting a full 3/3 interval through the entire 5K, then maintaining that until it's second nature. Once that happens, I can "graduate" to a 4/2 and eventually a full 5/1. Once I've got the 5/1 down for a 5K, I'll go back to a 4/2 or a 3/3 and add distance, then work up to speed again. I need to be able to 5/1 a 10K if I have any hope of making it through an Olympic by the end of this year. I also need to remember my water bottle if I'm going to be doing this kind of distance. One of these days I'll run a "fast mile" and see how I do pacing myself. I think I could get under 12:00 if I knew all I had to do was run a mile and cross the line.
Swimming
Warmup: 100 Free
Main Set: 4x200, 45 RI
Descending 100 (34, 31, 24.8, 24.4)
Cooldown: 100 Free
Total Yardage:1100
I felt good on this one - forcing myself to keep a tempo through the 200's was good practice. Altogether the times were fairly consistent. The descender was a pain in the butt - the first two were fine, then on the third, I thrashed it out and took too much time off. Overcompensated and lost my form on the fourth and ended up chopping big holes in the water instead of moving quickly and efficiently. Life lesson.
Today's Training:
Swimming
Warmup: 150 (50 pull, 50 kick, 50 free)
Main Set: Down Ladder (400, 45 RI, 300, 45 RI, 200, 20 RI, 100) with descending pace
Cooldown: 50 Free, 50 Breast
Total Yardage:1250
The Down Ladder is a great pacing tool - if you know you have another 200 to go, you swim a little more conservatively. If you've only got 100 total, you push it. My times reflected that today - I'm really learning how to pace myself in the pool. Now that my form is coming back I'm better able to do some of the faster paces and sprints in the end of the workout, and that just bodes well for my ability to race this year.
Running
Virtual 5K (treadmill) Time:46:30
Intervals: Six minutes at a 3/3 split x 6 (36 minutes), 2.4 miles, 3.4/4.9 split.
10:30 at 3.5-3.9 to finish last .7 miles.
I can tell that I was pushing a bit with the intervals. I need to work on getting a full 3/3 interval through the entire 5K, then maintaining that until it's second nature. Once that happens, I can "graduate" to a 4/2 and eventually a full 5/1. Once I've got the 5/1 down for a 5K, I'll go back to a 4/2 or a 3/3 and add distance, then work up to speed again. I need to be able to 5/1 a 10K if I have any hope of making it through an Olympic by the end of this year. I also need to remember my water bottle if I'm going to be doing this kind of distance. One of these days I'll run a "fast mile" and see how I do pacing myself. I think I could get under 12:00 if I knew all I had to do was run a mile and cross the line.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Kids No More
Wow.
If they sound as good as they look... I will be buying my first New Kids CD. Ever.
(Oh yeah. Cassette tapes, baby.)
In other news, JM is partying it up under the sakura in Tokyo, and it's a time for new beginnings. The cherry blossoms represent self-reflection and renewal, and the Japanese take the time to walk in the park and watch the full blooms come in.
What a beautiful tradition...taking time to renew oneself and reflect upon the events since the last time the blossoms were in full bloom.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Something Private
Not really apropos to post something private on a public blog on the Internet, I suppose...but I have a private thought in my head, and a private feeling in my gut that I want to remember, so I'm leaving myself this reminder.
Time: 12:44PM
Date: Monday, March 31, 2008
Weather: Snowy and slippery. The roads are bad right now.
Clothing: white stretchy v-neck long sleeved t-shirt, jeans, barefoot
Hair: ponytail
Song in my head: "Still" - Matt Nathanson
Sometimes snowy days bring unexpected warmth and happiness. Sometimes you just have to take 20 minutes out of your day to experience it. It makes going back out into the cold that much better.
Time: 12:44PM
Date: Monday, March 31, 2008
Weather: Snowy and slippery. The roads are bad right now.
Clothing: white stretchy v-neck long sleeved t-shirt, jeans, barefoot
Hair: ponytail
Song in my head: "Still" - Matt Nathanson
Sometimes snowy days bring unexpected warmth and happiness. Sometimes you just have to take 20 minutes out of your day to experience it. It makes going back out into the cold that much better.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Friends, Part III
Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young. - attributed to Mary Schmich
The above picture was taken in either second or third grade, at my friend Karen's birthday party. That's me, front and center, blonde crew cut and mismatched pink shirt and pants. To my immediate left, in the purple and white striped dress, is my oldest friend, Neysa.
Neysa and I met sometime in the first couple weeks of Kindergarten. We found out that we lived about a block and a half away from each other, and in the wisdom of all of our five years of life, we decided we needed to be best friends. We were inseparable after school, practically attached at the hip during the summers. We did Brownies together. Our moms drove the same carpool. She remembers my sister as a newborn.
I moved in the middle of third grade, to a state far far away, and into a school situation which was as far removed from my experiences as fathomable. I think, probably to ease my transition and give me some measure of comfort, our parents allowed us to call each other once a week. We alternated weeks, mostly so our parents could evenly split the long-distance charges.
This went on for years.
We visited each other a couple times - mostly when I was back in town visiting my grandparents, who always told me when they saw her around town.
We sent each other flowers on our 16th birthdays.
She came to my grandparents' funerals, in our former hometown.
When I was in college, she called me one morning, informed me she was married and would be in San Antonio to see her husband graduate from Air Force basic training. At that point, I had a car, and I drove down to see her.
In the intervening years, she divorced, I got married, had a baby, she got remarried, I saw her a couple more times (I think) and we managed, somehow, to keep touch.
When she married her second husband, the boy and I traveled back to attend her wedding. It was our fifth anniversary, and now one of the coolest things in the world is the fact that my oldest friend and I have the same wedding anniversary.
*********
Back there in the corner, with the flute, is Karen. She's one of the smartest and most talented people I've ever known. She is Taiwanese, one of the strongest Christians I know, and I think I always thought she'd be a doctor like her father. I lost touch with Karen after my family moved in third grade, but always asked after her based on my relationship with Neysa, and the fact that her dad was my grandparents' family doctor. Recently, due to the modern miracle of Facebook, Karen and I reconnected. One of these days I hope I get back to her area of the country, and if I do, I would love to see her.
I found out that she became a music therapist, married a doctor named Joe, and that Joe recently lost his life to cancer. I think, looking at the girls in the picture above, we could never have predicted the turns our lives would take. Our biggest worry back then was what Karen's parents would say when they found the eight of us jumping like monkeys on Karen's bed in a birthday cake-induced collective sugar high. (Turns out they thought it was hilarious. The lawyer in me sees a tort action brewing.)
When we imagined our weddings, we (at least I) always assumed we'd be marrying Prince Charming, and that it would last forever. Whether we eloped and later divorced, or knelt in church next to a husband's casket before gray hair and wrinkles set in, I don't think any of us knew really what marriage was beyond the white dress and ring. In my common life with my husband, we have ups and downs, but I am blessed to have him with me. I have not had to say a permanent goodbye like Karen; I have not had to start over and try again like Neysa.
There are five other little girls in that picture; girls with dreams and lives ahead of them. I would love to gather them together, along with the other members of our second grade class, and find out what happened between 8 and 31.
Today's Training: Running
30 mins on the treadmill, 2.1 miles (14:30 pace fartlek)
Friday, March 28, 2008
From The Heart...
Among the many reasons I have a deep-seated appreciation for John Mayer is his ability to articulate so much of what goes on in his head. When I read his words, I often find myself relating so well to him; there's a kinship there that is unexplainable.
I wish I could just have him over to my house for dinner one night. I'd probably serve something Italian (lasagna maybe, or baked ziti, green beans and garlic bread) and we'd pop open a bottle of Beringer White Zinfandel. I'd pause the conversation only to offer dessert and tuck my daughter into bed. I would hope that even though dinner was at six, we'd talk until 3AM because we'd relate that well, and I'd pick his brain about everything from songwriting to politics to neuroses large and small.
By the time we looked at the clock, it would be too late for him to drive home, so I'd offer him our guest room and fresh towels, set the coffeepot for the next morning, and retire to my own room to sleep next to my husband.
It's what any self-respecting member of JM's housewife contingent would do.
Excerpts from his latest blog:
This is about a level of self consciousness so high in my generation, that it's actually toxic.
This is about us all. Every one of us. Who all seem to know deep down that it's incredibly hard to be alive and interact with the world around us but will try and cover it up at any cost. For as badass and unaffected as we try to come off, we're all just one sentence away from being brought to the edge of tears, if only it was worded right.
We were promised we could be anything that we wanted to be, if only we believed it and then, faster than we saw coming, we were set loose into the world to shake hands with the millions of other people who were told the exact same thing.
And really? Really? It turns out we're just not all that special, when you break it down. Beautifully unspectacular, actually. And that truth is going to catch up with us whether we want to run from it or not... It's just a matter of how old you are once you embrace that fact. And for me, 30 sounds about right.
What now, then? I can only really say for myself: Enjoy who I am, the talents and the liabilities. Stop acting careless. In fact, care more. Be vulnerable but stay away from where it hurts. Read. See more shows. Of any kind. Rock shows, art shows, boat shows. Create more art. Wear hoodies to dinner. Carry a notebook and hand it to people when they passionately recommend something and ask them to write it down for me.
Root for others.
Give more and expect the same in return, but over time.
Act nervous when I'm nervous, puzzled when I don't know what the hell to do, and smile when it all goes my way. And never in any other order than that.
And when it's all over, whether at the end of this fabulous career or of this life, which I hope takes place at the same time, I should look back and say that I had it good and I made the most of it while I was able. And so should you.
JM's in Japan, clearing his head. I'm in the T.C., trying to think of a way to get myself through the next six weeks. Six weeks until the end of my first year in law school. Damn, that was fast.
I wish I could just have him over to my house for dinner one night. I'd probably serve something Italian (lasagna maybe, or baked ziti, green beans and garlic bread) and we'd pop open a bottle of Beringer White Zinfandel. I'd pause the conversation only to offer dessert and tuck my daughter into bed. I would hope that even though dinner was at six, we'd talk until 3AM because we'd relate that well, and I'd pick his brain about everything from songwriting to politics to neuroses large and small.
By the time we looked at the clock, it would be too late for him to drive home, so I'd offer him our guest room and fresh towels, set the coffeepot for the next morning, and retire to my own room to sleep next to my husband.
It's what any self-respecting member of JM's housewife contingent would do.
Excerpts from his latest blog:
This is about a level of self consciousness so high in my generation, that it's actually toxic.
This is about us all. Every one of us. Who all seem to know deep down that it's incredibly hard to be alive and interact with the world around us but will try and cover it up at any cost. For as badass and unaffected as we try to come off, we're all just one sentence away from being brought to the edge of tears, if only it was worded right.
We were promised we could be anything that we wanted to be, if only we believed it and then, faster than we saw coming, we were set loose into the world to shake hands with the millions of other people who were told the exact same thing.
And really? Really? It turns out we're just not all that special, when you break it down. Beautifully unspectacular, actually. And that truth is going to catch up with us whether we want to run from it or not... It's just a matter of how old you are once you embrace that fact. And for me, 30 sounds about right.
What now, then? I can only really say for myself: Enjoy who I am, the talents and the liabilities. Stop acting careless. In fact, care more. Be vulnerable but stay away from where it hurts. Read. See more shows. Of any kind. Rock shows, art shows, boat shows. Create more art. Wear hoodies to dinner. Carry a notebook and hand it to people when they passionately recommend something and ask them to write it down for me.
Root for others.
Give more and expect the same in return, but over time.
Act nervous when I'm nervous, puzzled when I don't know what the hell to do, and smile when it all goes my way. And never in any other order than that.
And when it's all over, whether at the end of this fabulous career or of this life, which I hope takes place at the same time, I should look back and say that I had it good and I made the most of it while I was able. And so should you.
JM's in Japan, clearing his head. I'm in the T.C., trying to think of a way to get myself through the next six weeks. Six weeks until the end of my first year in law school. Damn, that was fast.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Training Log - 3/27/08
Swim
Warmup: 100 free, 150 kick/pull/kick alternates
Main Set: 2x200, 45 second RI, 1x400 (all at race pace, last 50 of the 400 at sprint pace)
Total: 1050 yards
This felt AWESOME. A vast improvement over last week - I was dying on Tuesday about midway through my 3rd 200. Today, I was practically unphased after 2x200. We got to the pool a bit late and so I made the executive decision to turn my last 400 into a solid set. I got into such a groove, knowing I was swimming faster than I had on Tuesday. Knowing I was up against a time limit, I wanted to get my yardage in, so I sprinted the last 50 yards - perhaps not an all-out sprint, but I amped it up quite a bit. Nice to know I can still dig deep at the end of a long-ish set. Now if I can do it after an 800, then I'll be impressed. If I can do it after a 1600 I'll be freaking insane with glee!
Bike
Warmup: 5 minutes easy spin (low resistance)
Main Set: 20 minute tempo ride (normal cadence +/- 88 RPM, medium resistance)
Mini-Brick: 10 minutes run/walk
Cooldown: 5 minutes walk
Total: 40 minutes
OW! Bike butt! First time on a spinner since...the stone ages. 20 minutes at a normal cadence was enough for me today. The spinners don't have computers so I can't check my mileage, but the time felt good - and I'll throw some hill intervals on next time I have a standalone bike. For now as a swim followup, it was all good. My calves cramped up like nobody's business when I tried to run - so a nice long stretch will be in order tonight, and hopefully everything else loosens up in the next few days.
Warmup: 100 free, 150 kick/pull/kick alternates
Main Set: 2x200, 45 second RI, 1x400 (all at race pace, last 50 of the 400 at sprint pace)
Total: 1050 yards
This felt AWESOME. A vast improvement over last week - I was dying on Tuesday about midway through my 3rd 200. Today, I was practically unphased after 2x200. We got to the pool a bit late and so I made the executive decision to turn my last 400 into a solid set. I got into such a groove, knowing I was swimming faster than I had on Tuesday. Knowing I was up against a time limit, I wanted to get my yardage in, so I sprinted the last 50 yards - perhaps not an all-out sprint, but I amped it up quite a bit. Nice to know I can still dig deep at the end of a long-ish set. Now if I can do it after an 800, then I'll be impressed. If I can do it after a 1600 I'll be freaking insane with glee!
Bike
Warmup: 5 minutes easy spin (low resistance)
Main Set: 20 minute tempo ride (normal cadence +/- 88 RPM, medium resistance)
Mini-Brick: 10 minutes run/walk
Cooldown: 5 minutes walk
Total: 40 minutes
OW! Bike butt! First time on a spinner since...the stone ages. 20 minutes at a normal cadence was enough for me today. The spinners don't have computers so I can't check my mileage, but the time felt good - and I'll throw some hill intervals on next time I have a standalone bike. For now as a swim followup, it was all good. My calves cramped up like nobody's business when I tried to run - so a nice long stretch will be in order tonight, and hopefully everything else loosens up in the next few days.
The Cake Is A Lie, Redux (or, Happy Birthday, Sooz!)
We had a most enjoyable evening last night! It was Sooz's birthday and she was kind enough to invite a gaggle of her besties over to her boyfriend's house for a game night. It was awesome!
All of her friends are lovely people who are imaginitive, friendly and intelligent. Special props to the boy, who seemed comfortable enough to meet all these new people, and step out of his comfort zone for a rousing game of Cranium. Originally this was to be a video game night but Cranium finished at 11:30 and the both of us were bushed. (Past our bedtimes, yo.)
My contributions to the party (since one never shows up emptyhanded) were a bottle of Three Buck Chuck and this:
I reprised The Cake Is A Lie for Sooz because she, like the boy, is a gamer and would appreciate the Portal reference. Recipe below:
The Cake Is A Lie:
1 dozen cupcakes (homebaked or store-bought as a matter of taste and preference)
1 sheet CakeMate alphabetical birthday characters (must be the full alphabet)
Other decorations as desired.
Place one letter on each cupcake to spell out T-H-E C-A-K-E A. "IS" goes on one cupcake together, and "lie" is spelled L-I-3 (the letter set comes one "E" short.)
You may substitute "l33t" characters if the birthday gamer is sufficiently fluent in l33tsP3@K. Most of the time though, this birthday treat will have to be explained to those not in the know, and it's explanation enough without needing to explain "l33t" as well.
Happy Birthday, Sooz! You are an inspiration, academically, physically, mentally and emotionally. I'm so glad you decided to do the tri with me this summer - you're gonna rock on with your socks on. Except in the lake. Wet socks are never fun.
All of her friends are lovely people who are imaginitive, friendly and intelligent. Special props to the boy, who seemed comfortable enough to meet all these new people, and step out of his comfort zone for a rousing game of Cranium. Originally this was to be a video game night but Cranium finished at 11:30 and the both of us were bushed. (Past our bedtimes, yo.)
My contributions to the party (since one never shows up emptyhanded) were a bottle of Three Buck Chuck and this:
I reprised The Cake Is A Lie for Sooz because she, like the boy, is a gamer and would appreciate the Portal reference. Recipe below:
The Cake Is A Lie:
1 dozen cupcakes (homebaked or store-bought as a matter of taste and preference)
1 sheet CakeMate alphabetical birthday characters (must be the full alphabet)
Other decorations as desired.
Place one letter on each cupcake to spell out T-H-E C-A-K-E A. "IS" goes on one cupcake together, and "lie" is spelled L-I-3 (the letter set comes one "E" short.)
You may substitute "l33t" characters if the birthday gamer is sufficiently fluent in l33tsP3@K. Most of the time though, this birthday treat will have to be explained to those not in the know, and it's explanation enough without needing to explain "l33t" as well.
Happy Birthday, Sooz! You are an inspiration, academically, physically, mentally and emotionally. I'm so glad you decided to do the tri with me this summer - you're gonna rock on with your socks on. Except in the lake. Wet socks are never fun.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Ten Things You Should Know About Me, Part III
1. I have about 15 versions of the song Summertime on iTunes. Not the Fresh Prince one (though that one is cool)- the opening song from Porgy and Bess. That song makes me wanna holler.
2. My favorite scent is vanilla, and I use it almost exclusively in my personal grooming products - deodorant, body wash, body spray, lotion and perfume.
3. I barely made it through this winter.
4. I recently found the connector cable for my camera. This is a good thing.
5. I have worn glasses since I was 15. I found out I needed them when I went to the DMV to get my learner's permit and failed the eye exam.
6. I wear a size 9 1/2 shoe.
7. My wedding scrapbook isn't done yet. We're coming up on our ninth anniversary.
8. I don't drink nearly enough water.
9. I've been seeing a counselor since January, to help me work out my mental issues and figure out why I'm depressed. We've identified a bunch of issues. She reads my blog. I don't hold back in my writing because of this. It's helping.
10. I have no excuse but money for this one: my favorite wine is either Beringer or Turning Leaf White Zinfandel.
2. My favorite scent is vanilla, and I use it almost exclusively in my personal grooming products - deodorant, body wash, body spray, lotion and perfume.
3. I barely made it through this winter.
4. I recently found the connector cable for my camera. This is a good thing.
5. I have worn glasses since I was 15. I found out I needed them when I went to the DMV to get my learner's permit and failed the eye exam.
6. I wear a size 9 1/2 shoe.
7. My wedding scrapbook isn't done yet. We're coming up on our ninth anniversary.
8. I don't drink nearly enough water.
9. I've been seeing a counselor since January, to help me work out my mental issues and figure out why I'm depressed. We've identified a bunch of issues. She reads my blog. I don't hold back in my writing because of this. It's helping.
10. I have no excuse but money for this one: my favorite wine is either Beringer or Turning Leaf White Zinfandel.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Getting My House In Order
Technically, spring is upon us. However, Minnesota does not believe in spring, and thus, we still have snow on the ground. It snowed Easter Sunday.
Ugh.
In the spirit of my sister's visit, I have attempted to clean and declutter an area of my house every so often. The idea is to have my house as minimized and welcoming as possible. I wasn't raised this way - my mother and grandparents were savers, and so the idea of clear surfaces, while tantalizing and attractive, was at best, theoretical for me.
I am finding that this housecleaning business is not only healthy for my eyes - coming home to a clean house is so much better than coming home to a house which requires work - but also healthy for my mental well-being. Not only do I want to be home when it's clean, but I feel proud of my home, I can have people over any time I want (which, lately, has been more spontaneous due to study groups, etc.) and I don't have the rush to "get ready" when company comes.
Naturally, I have done my research. This is my house organization Bible:
I had 0/9 areas clean when she came. I now have 4/9 decluttered, organized, and they are kept clean and ready on a regular basis. It's funny - I've never been that great a housekeeper, but once the "stuff" quotient is gone, it's so easy to just look into my living room and go "oh, it's clean!" I have a great piece of mind when I go to bed, knowing the kitchen is looked after.
I have nine main areas in my house (ten if you count the porch, eleven if you count the basement) and I'm going room-by-room, decluttering and minimizing our "stuff" - redefining the space and determining what goes, what stays, and what's what. I'm making very deliberate choices in terms of how I'm doing this - nothing is going in the basement, no decision is temporary. I am giving myself to the end of the summer to have the whole house completely done. In order of priority, then, my House List:
1. Guest Room: DONE. I have a study space, rearranged furniture, and nothing has gone in without it having a purpose.
2. Living Room: DONE. The girl has a nook for her toys and they are all put away at the end of each night. The mantle and fireplace are clear or decorated with photos, and the gaming/TV unit is organized. I need to buy a toybox for the nook, just to make it a bit nicer, but for now, it's all good.
3. Kitchen: DONE. I pitched a LOT of stuff when we moved - and right now it's a matter of making a nightly clean-up a priority. I'm also sticking to a grocery budget, so it is easy to keep the pantry organized, as we only have things we actually use and eat in there. Amazing how well that works.
4. Foyer/Stairs/Hallway: DONE. The shoes went up, the laundry was cleared, and the hall table was cleaned off. I need to send the winter coats for cleaning and they will be stored soon, once we are done with them. Around Father's Day.
5. Dining Room: A MAJOR traffic area, and my general office space. Now that I have a study space, I need to USE IT. I have boxes of papers in here, and a lot of old mail and bills that need shredding. Note to self: find public shred service.
6. Bathroom: Not as big a challenge as originally thought, but I do need to get the extraneous care items used up and find a good place for everything. Not bad, considering.
7. The Girl's Room: In desperate need of a periodic childhood excavation. I need to pull out her clothes, thin out her bookshelves, get rid of random plastic pieces, remake the bed and really look at what she still plays with. Also - we have too many shoes right now - some of them are too small, so they will have to go and be replaced with new ones.
8. Our Room: 90% of our problem will be solved with the purchase of our new armoire from IKEA, and the Purple Heart donation drive next week - they want clothing this time round, and clothing they shall get! I plan to wade through ALL of our clothes and get rid of anything ill-fitting. Tim Gunn guide me!
And here comes the second book I'm using:
For two people who are not fashion forward, and constantly complain about having nothing to wear, we have a LOT of clothes!
First order of business is to catch up on the laundry, which is almost done. I'm also using this time to go through the sweaters and winter clothes, and weed out. I don't want to store anything that won't be fit for use next summer. We moved with three tubs of winter clothes and sweaters, and I want to get it down to two: one for me and one for him. As the sweaters are washed or sent to the cleaners, they are stored or put in the giveaway box.
Next, the closet - which is pretty darn scary:
I hope the "After" pictures are significantly better. And that there's only one. And that I have a bedroom floor.
I am also going to have to go through my t-shirt collection and pick out the ones I don't wear - the ones I'm saving for my t-shirt quilt. If I have enough, I have the money put away for it, and I shall actually get it done!
9. Rec Room:This is the last room to be attacked, mostly because we need a new desk for the boy (it is his computer domain) and it's been our catch-all room. Boxes leftover from the move must be gone through, shelves to organize, books to store.
Update in May - hopefully we'll be up to our room and the rec room by then. I like the idea of doing this a room at a time - right now it's second nature to keep the 1/3 of the house that's "done" clean. If I add a room at a time, it will be easy enough to adjust to the additional 3 minutes it will take (hopefully) to keep the rooms clean.
Oh, I have hopes! I have such high hopes!!
Ugh.
In the spirit of my sister's visit, I have attempted to clean and declutter an area of my house every so often. The idea is to have my house as minimized and welcoming as possible. I wasn't raised this way - my mother and grandparents were savers, and so the idea of clear surfaces, while tantalizing and attractive, was at best, theoretical for me.
I am finding that this housecleaning business is not only healthy for my eyes - coming home to a clean house is so much better than coming home to a house which requires work - but also healthy for my mental well-being. Not only do I want to be home when it's clean, but I feel proud of my home, I can have people over any time I want (which, lately, has been more spontaneous due to study groups, etc.) and I don't have the rush to "get ready" when company comes.
Naturally, I have done my research. This is my house organization Bible:
I had 0/9 areas clean when she came. I now have 4/9 decluttered, organized, and they are kept clean and ready on a regular basis. It's funny - I've never been that great a housekeeper, but once the "stuff" quotient is gone, it's so easy to just look into my living room and go "oh, it's clean!" I have a great piece of mind when I go to bed, knowing the kitchen is looked after.
I have nine main areas in my house (ten if you count the porch, eleven if you count the basement) and I'm going room-by-room, decluttering and minimizing our "stuff" - redefining the space and determining what goes, what stays, and what's what. I'm making very deliberate choices in terms of how I'm doing this - nothing is going in the basement, no decision is temporary. I am giving myself to the end of the summer to have the whole house completely done. In order of priority, then, my House List:
1. Guest Room: DONE. I have a study space, rearranged furniture, and nothing has gone in without it having a purpose.
2. Living Room: DONE. The girl has a nook for her toys and they are all put away at the end of each night. The mantle and fireplace are clear or decorated with photos, and the gaming/TV unit is organized. I need to buy a toybox for the nook, just to make it a bit nicer, but for now, it's all good.
3. Kitchen: DONE. I pitched a LOT of stuff when we moved - and right now it's a matter of making a nightly clean-up a priority. I'm also sticking to a grocery budget, so it is easy to keep the pantry organized, as we only have things we actually use and eat in there. Amazing how well that works.
4. Foyer/Stairs/Hallway: DONE. The shoes went up, the laundry was cleared, and the hall table was cleaned off. I need to send the winter coats for cleaning and they will be stored soon, once we are done with them. Around Father's Day.
5. Dining Room: A MAJOR traffic area, and my general office space. Now that I have a study space, I need to USE IT. I have boxes of papers in here, and a lot of old mail and bills that need shredding. Note to self: find public shred service.
6. Bathroom: Not as big a challenge as originally thought, but I do need to get the extraneous care items used up and find a good place for everything. Not bad, considering.
7. The Girl's Room: In desperate need of a periodic childhood excavation. I need to pull out her clothes, thin out her bookshelves, get rid of random plastic pieces, remake the bed and really look at what she still plays with. Also - we have too many shoes right now - some of them are too small, so they will have to go and be replaced with new ones.
8. Our Room: 90% of our problem will be solved with the purchase of our new armoire from IKEA, and the Purple Heart donation drive next week - they want clothing this time round, and clothing they shall get! I plan to wade through ALL of our clothes and get rid of anything ill-fitting. Tim Gunn guide me!
And here comes the second book I'm using:
For two people who are not fashion forward, and constantly complain about having nothing to wear, we have a LOT of clothes!
First order of business is to catch up on the laundry, which is almost done. I'm also using this time to go through the sweaters and winter clothes, and weed out. I don't want to store anything that won't be fit for use next summer. We moved with three tubs of winter clothes and sweaters, and I want to get it down to two: one for me and one for him. As the sweaters are washed or sent to the cleaners, they are stored or put in the giveaway box.
Next, the closet - which is pretty darn scary:
I hope the "After" pictures are significantly better. And that there's only one. And that I have a bedroom floor.
I am also going to have to go through my t-shirt collection and pick out the ones I don't wear - the ones I'm saving for my t-shirt quilt. If I have enough, I have the money put away for it, and I shall actually get it done!
9. Rec Room:This is the last room to be attacked, mostly because we need a new desk for the boy (it is his computer domain) and it's been our catch-all room. Boxes leftover from the move must be gone through, shelves to organize, books to store.
Update in May - hopefully we'll be up to our room and the rec room by then. I like the idea of doing this a room at a time - right now it's second nature to keep the 1/3 of the house that's "done" clean. If I add a room at a time, it will be easy enough to adjust to the additional 3 minutes it will take (hopefully) to keep the rooms clean.
Oh, I have hopes! I have such high hopes!!
Monday, March 24, 2008
Beijing 2008
I read this story on MSNBC this morning, whilst awaiting Sooz's arrival for our twice-weekly swim training session.
And I saw a few pictures that look something like this:
In case you're wondering, that's a picture from a vocational school in China, where girls train to become flight attendants. Most of them are also learning etiquette in hopes of being selected to be medal ceremony hostesses at this year's Summer Olympics.
Excerpts from the article:
The young women practice posture by balancing books on their heads while squeezing a sheet of paper between the knees. A perfect smile is honed by hours in front of a mirror with a chopstick clasped between the teeth.
“The smile should be spontaneous. If it’s a fake smile, then it doesn’t look good,” Yang said, her hands folded primly at the waist. “When we practice smiling, we hold a chopstick between our teeth and try to think about something happy.”
Some of those will likely be picked for the actual games, said Li Zhanjun, director of the Beijing Olympics media center. He would not say how many would be chosen or what criteria was used to pick presenters.
The 32 students in Yang’s class said they were thrilled by the possibility of being part of the Olympics, an event China’s communist government intends to use to show the world it is ready to take its place among the ranks of great nations.
“We want (visitors) to think that China is a polite country that really lives up to its name,” said 17-year-old Feng Jiale, who wore a Communist Youth League pin on her airline uniform.
“I want them to know that the Chinese people are refined, that we really are confident about our country,” said 16-year-old Feng Shuo.
Beijing Olympics organizers’ pickiness in choosing hostesses illustrates the inordinate amount of planning that has gone into the upcoming games. Four years ago, the laidback Greeks selected hostesses from among the general pool of volunteers following brief interviews, a former Athens Games official said.
By turning to the state-run flight attendant schools, organizers are picking from among a group selected for their physical attributes and ability to make a good impression.
At Changping, students must stand between 5-foot-6 and 5-foot-8 and weigh 110 to 120 pounds. They learn English, French, German, Japanese and Korean. Classes in applying makeup are part of the curriculum.
A class of young women, age 16 to 18, gave a demonstration in the school gymnasium on Wednesday to show off the proper posture and how to walk with a tray. (“The forearms and upper arms must form a 90 degree angle,” the teacher reminded them.)
They practiced bows of 15, 30 and 45 degrees, holding the poses even though they appeared rather uncomfortable.
China is often accused of human rights violations and torturing political prisoners. Unspeakable horror stories come out of dissenters, the brave students who sat in Tiananmen Square over 17 years ago are long forgotten. The Internet is censored completely by what the government calls "The Golden Shield."
I am certain that China is a country of great beauty, history and culture. However, there is enough evidence in my mind to suggest that Nicolas Sarkozy might just have it right this time; we might very well be best served to boycott this Olympics. I am certain it won't happen because the corporate culture of America won't permit it. Nike and Adidas have billions tied up in the athletes, the airline sponsorships are worth millions, the broadcasting rights alone are worth inordinate amounts of money, and no CEO would allow his stock to plummet over political issues and American values. Such is our culture now - the almighty dollar rules most everything, most of the time.
The picture above is just a kinder, gentler example of what China does to its citizens on a regular basis, in order to preserve its self image and maintain its devotion to outward appearances.
Sure, she's wearing a beautifully tailored suit, and she's got a smile on her face.
It still looks like torture to me.
Today's training:Swimming
100 free warm-up, 50 kick, 50 pull
Main set: 4x200, 45 second RI
50 breast cooldown
Total yardage: 950
And I saw a few pictures that look something like this:
In case you're wondering, that's a picture from a vocational school in China, where girls train to become flight attendants. Most of them are also learning etiquette in hopes of being selected to be medal ceremony hostesses at this year's Summer Olympics.
Excerpts from the article:
The young women practice posture by balancing books on their heads while squeezing a sheet of paper between the knees. A perfect smile is honed by hours in front of a mirror with a chopstick clasped between the teeth.
“The smile should be spontaneous. If it’s a fake smile, then it doesn’t look good,” Yang said, her hands folded primly at the waist. “When we practice smiling, we hold a chopstick between our teeth and try to think about something happy.”
Some of those will likely be picked for the actual games, said Li Zhanjun, director of the Beijing Olympics media center. He would not say how many would be chosen or what criteria was used to pick presenters.
The 32 students in Yang’s class said they were thrilled by the possibility of being part of the Olympics, an event China’s communist government intends to use to show the world it is ready to take its place among the ranks of great nations.
“We want (visitors) to think that China is a polite country that really lives up to its name,” said 17-year-old Feng Jiale, who wore a Communist Youth League pin on her airline uniform.
“I want them to know that the Chinese people are refined, that we really are confident about our country,” said 16-year-old Feng Shuo.
Beijing Olympics organizers’ pickiness in choosing hostesses illustrates the inordinate amount of planning that has gone into the upcoming games. Four years ago, the laidback Greeks selected hostesses from among the general pool of volunteers following brief interviews, a former Athens Games official said.
By turning to the state-run flight attendant schools, organizers are picking from among a group selected for their physical attributes and ability to make a good impression.
At Changping, students must stand between 5-foot-6 and 5-foot-8 and weigh 110 to 120 pounds. They learn English, French, German, Japanese and Korean. Classes in applying makeup are part of the curriculum.
A class of young women, age 16 to 18, gave a demonstration in the school gymnasium on Wednesday to show off the proper posture and how to walk with a tray. (“The forearms and upper arms must form a 90 degree angle,” the teacher reminded them.)
They practiced bows of 15, 30 and 45 degrees, holding the poses even though they appeared rather uncomfortable.
China is often accused of human rights violations and torturing political prisoners. Unspeakable horror stories come out of dissenters, the brave students who sat in Tiananmen Square over 17 years ago are long forgotten. The Internet is censored completely by what the government calls "The Golden Shield."
I am certain that China is a country of great beauty, history and culture. However, there is enough evidence in my mind to suggest that Nicolas Sarkozy might just have it right this time; we might very well be best served to boycott this Olympics. I am certain it won't happen because the corporate culture of America won't permit it. Nike and Adidas have billions tied up in the athletes, the airline sponsorships are worth millions, the broadcasting rights alone are worth inordinate amounts of money, and no CEO would allow his stock to plummet over political issues and American values. Such is our culture now - the almighty dollar rules most everything, most of the time.
The picture above is just a kinder, gentler example of what China does to its citizens on a regular basis, in order to preserve its self image and maintain its devotion to outward appearances.
Sure, she's wearing a beautifully tailored suit, and she's got a smile on her face.
It still looks like torture to me.
Today's training:Swimming
100 free warm-up, 50 kick, 50 pull
Main set: 4x200, 45 second RI
50 breast cooldown
Total yardage: 950
Sunday, March 23, 2008
He Is Risen Indeed, Alleluia!
Now upon the first day of the week very early in the morning, they came unto the sepulcher, bringing the spices which they had prepared; and certain others were with them. And they found the stone rolled away from the sepulcher. And they entered in and found not the body of the Lord Jesus. And it came to pass, as they were much perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in shining garments. And as they were afraid and bowed down their faces to the earth, they said unto them, "Why seek ye the living among the dead! He is not here, but is risen! Remember how He spoke unto you when He was yet in Galilee saying, `The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified, and the third day rise again.' And they remembered His words, and returned from the sepulcher and told all these things unto the eleven and to all the rest.
It was Mary Magdalene and Joanna and Mary the mother of James, and other women who were with them, who told these things unto the apostles. And their words seemed to them as idle tales, and they believed them not. Then arose Peter and ran unto the sepulcher; and stooping down, he beheld the linen cloths laid by themselves. And he departed, wondering to himself at that which had come to pass.
Luke 24:1-12
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Voice Mail
"You've had this problem since I've known you. Since we were 17 years old. Don't tell me it's not my problem because it definitely affects me. Nobody gets under your skin like him. I see it every time you tell me 'So I talked to my Dad today.' It's like a weight is holding you down...I hate seeing you hurt, and he's hurting you. So you have to do something, because he probably doesn't know that there's even a problem. The ball's in your court, and unless you're honest with him, and with yourself, nothing's going to change."
The boy said these words to me during dinner tonight. I sat in front of him and wept.
My father tried to call today. I let the phone go to voice mail.
That was at 4:00.
I still haven't picked up the voice mail. It's 6:29.
I haven't decided whether I should listen or just erase it. Chances are that he's just calling to wish us a happy Easter. I think that's the problem.
The things that brought you to me
Now are the very things you hate
And it's becoming very clear to me
That you're the one that's changed
I used to think that we could make it last
That I would love you all my life
But when you tell me I'm not good enough
You know it's just not right
-I Won't- Keri Noble
The boy said these words to me during dinner tonight. I sat in front of him and wept.
My father tried to call today. I let the phone go to voice mail.
That was at 4:00.
I still haven't picked up the voice mail. It's 6:29.
I haven't decided whether I should listen or just erase it. Chances are that he's just calling to wish us a happy Easter. I think that's the problem.
The things that brought you to me
Now are the very things you hate
And it's becoming very clear to me
That you're the one that's changed
I used to think that we could make it last
That I would love you all my life
But when you tell me I'm not good enough
You know it's just not right
-I Won't- Keri Noble
Friday, March 21, 2008
Good Friday: Luke 23: 28-46 (NKJV)
But Jesus, turning unto them, said, "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for Me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. For behold, the days are coming in which they shall say, `Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore and the breasts which never gave suck.' Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, `Fall on us!' and to the hills, `Cover us!' For if they do these things in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry?"
And there were also two others, malefactors, led with Him to be put to death. And when they had come to the place which is called Calvary, there they crucified Him, and the malefactors, one on the right hand and the other on the left. Then Jesus said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." And they parted His raiment and cast lots.
And the people stood beholding. And the rulers who were also with them derided Him, saying, "He saved others; let him save himself if he be Christ, the chosen of God." And the soldiers also mocked Him, coming to Him and offering Him vinegar and saying, "If thou art the king of the Jews, save thyself." And a superscription also was written over Him in letters of Greek and Latin and Hebrew: THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS.
And one of the malefactors who was hanged railed against Him, saying, "If thou be Christ, save thyself and us!" But the other answering rebuked him, saying, "Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art under the same condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we receive the due reward of our deeds. But this Man hath done nothing amiss."
And he said unto Jesus, "Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy Kingdom." And Jesus said unto him, "Verily I say unto thee, today shalt thou be with Me in Paradise." And it was about the sixth hour, and there was a darkness over all the earth until the ninth hour. And the sun was darkened, and the veil of the temple was rent in the midst. And when Jesus had cried out with a loud voice, He said, "Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit." And having said thus, He gave up the ghost.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Oh Good Lord, Not Again
This morning, the girl and I were lazing about in bed, talking about the day ahead, and not doing much to extract ourselves from our cocoon of blankets and pillows and warm bodies.
Once again, she asked.
"Mom, can I get a baby sister?"
Uhhh...well, see...ahem, well...why do you want a baby sister?
"'Cause Ruth has one and she gets to hold it." (Ruth is her best friend at school.)
So you want a little sister like Ruth?
"Yeah, and um, Ruth has a big sister too but I can't have one of them because I already was born so I just want a little sister."
I thought you wanted a little brother?
"No, well... I want a sister, I think."
And what would you want to call her?
"Josie! I like Josie. It's a nice name."
Yes. Yes it is. Okay, kiddo - time to get up out of bed.
Twice in a month. Good Lord.
And now for something completely different:Sooz and I went swimming at school today - it felt GREAT to get back into the pool. I may keep a training log here just for simplicity's sake. Doubt if I'll get deeper than just a list of what I did - if I do, I'll make it a training-specific entry.
Swim: 100 warmup, 5x100 free (30 sec RI), 50 kick, 50 cooldown. 30 mins total. 700 total distance
Once again, she asked.
"Mom, can I get a baby sister?"
Uhhh...well, see...ahem, well...why do you want a baby sister?
"'Cause Ruth has one and she gets to hold it." (Ruth is her best friend at school.)
So you want a little sister like Ruth?
"Yeah, and um, Ruth has a big sister too but I can't have one of them because I already was born so I just want a little sister."
I thought you wanted a little brother?
"No, well... I want a sister, I think."
And what would you want to call her?
"Josie! I like Josie. It's a nice name."
Yes. Yes it is. Okay, kiddo - time to get up out of bed.
Twice in a month. Good Lord.
And now for something completely different:Sooz and I went swimming at school today - it felt GREAT to get back into the pool. I may keep a training log here just for simplicity's sake. Doubt if I'll get deeper than just a list of what I did - if I do, I'll make it a training-specific entry.
Swim: 100 warmup, 5x100 free (30 sec RI), 50 kick, 50 cooldown. 30 mins total. 700 total distance
Monday, March 17, 2008
St. Patrick's Day, Or The Last Two Weeks of My Insanely Busy Life
Busy, busy times in the life of me. Not only do I have the whole "oh shit, I only have six weeks left of school before finals" thing going on, the boy had his 30th birthday, my sister came to visit, I saw Matt Nathanson in concert last night, I am in the process of cleaning house, Easter is a week from yesterday, I'm rushing through some projects before I become a self-imposed finals hermit, it's Spring Break, and it's snowing outside. Welcome to my world.
Any and all of the above should rightly be their own blog entries, and I may very well be inclined to do so (oh hell, who am I kidding? No way am I going to have the time to properly document everything, so lucky you! The abridged version!) It's still going to be a long entry because I have two weeks to cover.
So then, in chronological order:
Happy 30th Birthday, Boy!: we went out for dinner at the Olive Garden (and yes, we did make them sing us the Buona Festa song - but they did so over a plate of OG Andes Candies. Better than crack, those little green treats!) I also played fun with his birthday cake: I went to the store and got a dozen cupcakes and those hard candies they sell in the cake baking aisle - the letters that you can spell stuff out with. I arranged the cupcakes on a plate, and placed one letter on each one, then gave it to him, saying "Sorry."
I neglected to get a picture - perhaps I'll recreate it one of these days, but the cupcakes spelled out "THE CAKE IS A LIE." (The boy is a Portal fanatic and I got a huge laugh out of him with it. (We did, in fact have a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting for him, as per his request.) He told most of his WoW guild about it...and I think I've been voted Coolest Wife Ever... his one buddy said "Woooww...she really does pay attention, doesn't she?" So... Happy Birthday, Boy.
Sisters, Sisters...There Were Never Such Devoted Sisters: A couple weeks ago, I was having a rough time dealing with a lot of the stuff that was bubbling to my surface regarding my family situation. A lot of my issues stem from the fact that I'm having to redefine family in my head: who qualifies, my perception of my family of origin, how best to deal with that. My sister is probably the person who knows as much about our family as I do - and I was IM'ing with her about a lot of the things I've been dealing with. She sensed I needed (help? companionship? friendship? love?)... I needed a sister. She immediately popped online, found a cheap flight, and got herself up here post-haste. We spent 4 days talking about our family - and I learned so much about her formative years, specifically the time after I left for college. I'm six years older than she, and I went to college when she went to junior high. We had such vastly different teen years for a lot of reasons, and this visit really brought to bear our differences. The good news is that we have just as many commonalities, and at the end of the day, we're there for each other, no matter what.
We did lots of sister-type activities, including shopping at IKEA and the Nordstrom shoe department (two places which, for us, equal Valhalla). Overall, it was a fantastic visit, one which I desperately needed, and one for which I will be forever grateful. Love you, sis. :)
MATTY NAY!!!!!!!!
Dude. If this doesn't make my yearly recap...then I will have died and gone to heaven. I got pretty damned close last night.
God love my friend Jen. She's been a Matty fan for AGES and I was grousing to her the other day - I'd failed to procure a ticket for the MN/Lifehouse show at First Ave in Minneapolis before it sold out. I was tempted to go anyway and see if they would release tickets, but more likely I would have just let it go. I had a multitude of excuses, the least of which was that I generally don't like to go to events alone.
Jen was having none of this. She has done street team things for MN before, and knows his tour manager, Megan. After my diatribe, she promptly sent Megan a PM asking if there was any slots on the street team for the Minneapolis show. Ten minutes later I was "on the list."
Long story short, I spent 90 minutes waiting outside the club, got to the box office and was admitted, free of charge, to the show. And I will be forever grateful because not only was Matt a phenomenal performer (literally turned a laid-back Minneapolis crowd into a singalong choir, as well as complimenting us on our ability to withstand the Northern climate native to our area "Dude, I'm just sayin'...y'all are badasses if you call this spring!") He played a ton of his new CD, a couple of older tunes, and tossed in a little Journey and Rick Springfield for good measure. Amazing, amazing 45 minute set. He's got a stage presence which is great - he rocks his tunes, interacts with the audience, and dude, could I GUSH any more? I'm an instant addict.
After his set, I hightailed it over to the merch table...and life was great, because he was easily the nicest performer I've ever met. He only had 15 minutes at the table but I think he was averaging about 5 seconds per autograph, and he was cool with pictures and stuff. My camera malfunctioned the first time I tried to get a picture with him, and he was like "Just get it going, and I'll come back - I'm totally down with it!" And he DID!
I left before Lifehouse - I didn't really have any interest in seeing them (and I would have stayed if Megan actually did have street team stuff for me to do, but their postcards were delivered to Chicago, not Minneapolis, and they were out), but I was out of there by 9:45PM, home by 10:15, and in bed by 11. Now THAT'S what I call a concert experience! (I must be getting old...)
I'll save cleaning house and Easter and all that rot for my next entry. And it wouldn't be St. Patty's if I didn't say it...
No way November will see our goodbye, when it comes to December, it's obvious why
No one wants to be alone at Christmastime
And come January, we're frozen inside, making new resolutions a hundred times
February, won't you be my Valentine?
And if our always is all that we gave, and then someday we take that away
We'll be alright, if it was just 'til St. Patrick's Day...
As they say in Texas: Erin Go Bragh, Y'all!
Any and all of the above should rightly be their own blog entries, and I may very well be inclined to do so (oh hell, who am I kidding? No way am I going to have the time to properly document everything, so lucky you! The abridged version!) It's still going to be a long entry because I have two weeks to cover.
So then, in chronological order:
Happy 30th Birthday, Boy!: we went out for dinner at the Olive Garden (and yes, we did make them sing us the Buona Festa song - but they did so over a plate of OG Andes Candies. Better than crack, those little green treats!) I also played fun with his birthday cake: I went to the store and got a dozen cupcakes and those hard candies they sell in the cake baking aisle - the letters that you can spell stuff out with. I arranged the cupcakes on a plate, and placed one letter on each one, then gave it to him, saying "Sorry."
I neglected to get a picture - perhaps I'll recreate it one of these days, but the cupcakes spelled out "THE CAKE IS A LIE." (The boy is a Portal fanatic and I got a huge laugh out of him with it. (We did, in fact have a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting for him, as per his request.) He told most of his WoW guild about it...and I think I've been voted Coolest Wife Ever... his one buddy said "Woooww...she really does pay attention, doesn't she?" So... Happy Birthday, Boy.
Sisters, Sisters...There Were Never Such Devoted Sisters: A couple weeks ago, I was having a rough time dealing with a lot of the stuff that was bubbling to my surface regarding my family situation. A lot of my issues stem from the fact that I'm having to redefine family in my head: who qualifies, my perception of my family of origin, how best to deal with that. My sister is probably the person who knows as much about our family as I do - and I was IM'ing with her about a lot of the things I've been dealing with. She sensed I needed (help? companionship? friendship? love?)... I needed a sister. She immediately popped online, found a cheap flight, and got herself up here post-haste. We spent 4 days talking about our family - and I learned so much about her formative years, specifically the time after I left for college. I'm six years older than she, and I went to college when she went to junior high. We had such vastly different teen years for a lot of reasons, and this visit really brought to bear our differences. The good news is that we have just as many commonalities, and at the end of the day, we're there for each other, no matter what.
We did lots of sister-type activities, including shopping at IKEA and the Nordstrom shoe department (two places which, for us, equal Valhalla). Overall, it was a fantastic visit, one which I desperately needed, and one for which I will be forever grateful. Love you, sis. :)
MATTY NAY!!!!!!!!
Dude. If this doesn't make my yearly recap...then I will have died and gone to heaven. I got pretty damned close last night.
God love my friend Jen. She's been a Matty fan for AGES and I was grousing to her the other day - I'd failed to procure a ticket for the MN/Lifehouse show at First Ave in Minneapolis before it sold out. I was tempted to go anyway and see if they would release tickets, but more likely I would have just let it go. I had a multitude of excuses, the least of which was that I generally don't like to go to events alone.
Jen was having none of this. She has done street team things for MN before, and knows his tour manager, Megan. After my diatribe, she promptly sent Megan a PM asking if there was any slots on the street team for the Minneapolis show. Ten minutes later I was "on the list."
Long story short, I spent 90 minutes waiting outside the club, got to the box office and was admitted, free of charge, to the show. And I will be forever grateful because not only was Matt a phenomenal performer (literally turned a laid-back Minneapolis crowd into a singalong choir, as well as complimenting us on our ability to withstand the Northern climate native to our area "Dude, I'm just sayin'...y'all are badasses if you call this spring!") He played a ton of his new CD, a couple of older tunes, and tossed in a little Journey and Rick Springfield for good measure. Amazing, amazing 45 minute set. He's got a stage presence which is great - he rocks his tunes, interacts with the audience, and dude, could I GUSH any more? I'm an instant addict.
After his set, I hightailed it over to the merch table...and life was great, because he was easily the nicest performer I've ever met. He only had 15 minutes at the table but I think he was averaging about 5 seconds per autograph, and he was cool with pictures and stuff. My camera malfunctioned the first time I tried to get a picture with him, and he was like "Just get it going, and I'll come back - I'm totally down with it!" And he DID!
I left before Lifehouse - I didn't really have any interest in seeing them (and I would have stayed if Megan actually did have street team stuff for me to do, but their postcards were delivered to Chicago, not Minneapolis, and they were out), but I was out of there by 9:45PM, home by 10:15, and in bed by 11. Now THAT'S what I call a concert experience! (I must be getting old...)
I'll save cleaning house and Easter and all that rot for my next entry. And it wouldn't be St. Patty's if I didn't say it...
No way November will see our goodbye, when it comes to December, it's obvious why
No one wants to be alone at Christmastime
And come January, we're frozen inside, making new resolutions a hundred times
February, won't you be my Valentine?
And if our always is all that we gave, and then someday we take that away
We'll be alright, if it was just 'til St. Patrick's Day...
As they say in Texas: Erin Go Bragh, Y'all!
Sunday, March 16, 2008
My Father's Child
Things I have in common with my father:
1. The ability to be moved by music.
2. Inordinate desire to be educated.
3. Most at home in a classroom, whether as a student or teacher.
4. Inability to finish a story (or remember whether I've told it before) in less than 5 minutes or without a digression.
5. Bad vision.
6. Love for all things chocolate.
7. An appreciation for peanut butter and swiss cheese sandwiches.
8. Encyclopedic knowledge of near-useless trivia.
9. Vocabulary bordering the ridiculous.
10. Inability to correctly express my emotions, thoughts and feelings.
Music in my head right now: Mozart's "Requiem": Introit and Kyrie.
1. The ability to be moved by music.
2. Inordinate desire to be educated.
3. Most at home in a classroom, whether as a student or teacher.
4. Inability to finish a story (or remember whether I've told it before) in less than 5 minutes or without a digression.
5. Bad vision.
6. Love for all things chocolate.
7. An appreciation for peanut butter and swiss cheese sandwiches.
8. Encyclopedic knowledge of near-useless trivia.
9. Vocabulary bordering the ridiculous.
10. Inability to correctly express my emotions, thoughts and feelings.
Music in my head right now: Mozart's "Requiem": Introit and Kyrie.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Pure Moments
I must admit to completely ganking this from JM's Honeyee blog entry for today. It's 5AM in Japan right now...I hope when he wakes up, he doesn't mind that he inspired one fangirl to a bit of introspection. Not that he knows this blog exists, at all - so really? Moot point I suppose. Karmically speaking though, good to give credit where credit is due.
Interspersed with lovely photos from Nijo Castle in Kyoto, Japan, JM writes these lovely words:
When was the last time you had a truly pure moment? The simple order of you, the enjoyment, the happiness, the end.
Without that nagging arithmetic of what the moment must look like to others, what it might read like tomorrow, and if it bears any significance in the long term...
When was the last time you heard the voice in your head over all the noise?
Simple happiness is at a premium... and I can't think of anything more valuable I want to own right now...
Self consciousness is toxic... And it's everywhere...I have not learned anything from fame and success that I wouldn't have wanted life to teach me without it...
Truth be told; I had a small glimmer of one of these moments yesterday. I was sitting at my dining room table, outlining Torts. (Outlining is a torturous process by which a law student boils down notes, prep materials, case briefs, and supplementals into a 25 page summary of everything learned in a class. It is then memorized, rehashed, beaten into a bloody pulp, torn apart, put back together and stomped upon over the last two weeks of the semester, and then forgotten forever. Or at at least until bar review time. I digress.) Sooz was sitting next to me, and Beethoven was on the stereo. We worked for four hours, lazily trading anecdotes from the readings, asking each other the pertinence of certain words and cases, and for once, I felt like a law student. I felt right; I felt like I was nearly enjoying myself.
Perhaps it was the Beethoven.
Pure moments:
When I'm saddled up and in the middle of a 20 mile training ride.
When I'm in the middle of a 1000 yard swim.
When I'm standing at the shore of Lake Michigan, on any given day, in any given season, and have nothing but the crashing waves in my ears and the rising sun in my face.
When I hear my daughter's laugh, or watch her sleep peacefully, for just a moment before I start thinking about all that she means to me and why she is growing up too damned fast.
When I'm behind the wheel of my car, driving.
When I kneel in a deserted church, adhering to the admonition be still, and know that I am God.
I'm relearning my definition of happiness, and I'm learning that it is self-determined. A quiet church, or a Japanese castle, or Beethoven, or even a sleeping child can effect a temporal euphoria; but in order to maintain true happiness (particularly the even keel that those of us with depression fight so desperately to maintain), it has to originate internally. External stimuli can give us the right feelings, but the internal condition is what makes that sunrise, that laughter, that prayer and that castle turn into that which pulls your mind and heart through the deepest of winters and the darkest of days.
It reminds you that spring is on its way.
Interspersed with lovely photos from Nijo Castle in Kyoto, Japan, JM writes these lovely words:
When was the last time you had a truly pure moment? The simple order of you, the enjoyment, the happiness, the end.
Without that nagging arithmetic of what the moment must look like to others, what it might read like tomorrow, and if it bears any significance in the long term...
When was the last time you heard the voice in your head over all the noise?
Simple happiness is at a premium... and I can't think of anything more valuable I want to own right now...
Self consciousness is toxic... And it's everywhere...I have not learned anything from fame and success that I wouldn't have wanted life to teach me without it...
Truth be told; I had a small glimmer of one of these moments yesterday. I was sitting at my dining room table, outlining Torts. (Outlining is a torturous process by which a law student boils down notes, prep materials, case briefs, and supplementals into a 25 page summary of everything learned in a class. It is then memorized, rehashed, beaten into a bloody pulp, torn apart, put back together and stomped upon over the last two weeks of the semester, and then forgotten forever. Or at at least until bar review time. I digress.) Sooz was sitting next to me, and Beethoven was on the stereo. We worked for four hours, lazily trading anecdotes from the readings, asking each other the pertinence of certain words and cases, and for once, I felt like a law student. I felt right; I felt like I was nearly enjoying myself.
Perhaps it was the Beethoven.
Pure moments:
When I'm saddled up and in the middle of a 20 mile training ride.
When I'm in the middle of a 1000 yard swim.
When I'm standing at the shore of Lake Michigan, on any given day, in any given season, and have nothing but the crashing waves in my ears and the rising sun in my face.
When I hear my daughter's laugh, or watch her sleep peacefully, for just a moment before I start thinking about all that she means to me and why she is growing up too damned fast.
When I'm behind the wheel of my car, driving.
When I kneel in a deserted church, adhering to the admonition be still, and know that I am God.
I'm relearning my definition of happiness, and I'm learning that it is self-determined. A quiet church, or a Japanese castle, or Beethoven, or even a sleeping child can effect a temporal euphoria; but in order to maintain true happiness (particularly the even keel that those of us with depression fight so desperately to maintain), it has to originate internally. External stimuli can give us the right feelings, but the internal condition is what makes that sunrise, that laughter, that prayer and that castle turn into that which pulls your mind and heart through the deepest of winters and the darkest of days.
It reminds you that spring is on its way.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Movie Review: Jumper
My sister is in town! She flew in today and offered the boy and I a chance to get out for a date - which we did after a lovely spaghetti dinner cooked by yours truly.
Since his birthday was this past week, and he rarely gets to go to the movies, he got to pick the flick, and he chose Jumper.
Overall, the film was okay. Basically a sci/fi-fantasy hybrid, it centers around the world of David, a "jumper" - basically a person who can teleport to anywhere at any given time. We meet him in high school, and he's the typical picked-upon weakling...until he falls through a frozen river and ends up in the stacks of the local public library.
Of course, the crush of his life is the unattainable girl from school - I preferred the younger version played by Annasophia Robb over Rachel Bilson's college coed - and the sidekick, an acerbic Brit called Griffin.
The bad guy is played by Samuel L. Jackson, who is a badass par excellence and seems born to play these types of roles. He is a "paladin" named Roland - which any good fantasy geek knows is a form of a holy warrior of some sort - in existence since the Middle Ages. "Roland" is also the name of the Gunslinger in The Dark Tower series by Stephen King - I can't help but wonder if the name was used specifically to conjure images of King's gunslinger.
Vastly underused (in my opinion) is Diane Lane, who plays David's mother. She abandoned him at age 5, and though her role in his life is explained at the end of the movie, I still felt she should have had more presence, at least as much as Roland, if not more.
Overall, not the type of movie I'd normally go see. However, I'd give it a 6 out of 10 - and the fact that I got a date with my husband, regardless of cinematic choice, gives the movie bonus points.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Exhilaration/Excruciation
What's the matter Mary Jane, you had a hard day
As you place the don't disturb sign on the door
You lost your place in line again, what a pity
You never seem to want to dance anymore
It's a long way down on this roller coaster
The last chance streetcar went off the track
And you're on it
I hear you're counting sheep again Mary Jane
What's the point of trying to dream anymore?
I hear you're losing weight again Mary Jane
Do you ever wonder who you're losing it for?
Well it's full speed baby, in the wrong direction
There's a few more bruises if that's the way you insist on heading
Please be honest Mary Jane - are you happy?
Please don't censor your tears
You're the sweet crusader and you're on your way
You're the last great innocent, and that's why I love you
So take this moment Mary Jane and be selfish
Worry not about the cars that go by
All that matters Mary Jane is your freedom
Keep warm my dear, keep dry
Mary Jane-Alanis Morrissette
I've been thinking a lot about hurt.
Hurt and pain come in many forms - we have physical pain, emotional pain, physiological pain in response to psychological pain.
Sharp pain, dull pain, intermittent pain, persistent pain.
There's a pain scale - you've seen it in your doctor's office - "Rate your pain on a scale of 1-10" with a crying sad face on one end and a happy, smiley face on the other.
Hurt causes pain.
It can be anything from a paper cut to the most excruciating torture imaginable.
We cauterize pain - we do what we can to avoid it, we take pills to quell it, we run from it. We even say "I don't want to hurt you" just as we get ready to issue words that, once said, will inflict it. We make up stories to save face, we are not honest in our dealings with others. We let people down easy, we take the high road, we avoid conflict. Anything at all not to feel pain. Or hurt.
As humans, though, we are meant to hurt. The sensations of pain are what remind us that we are alive, just as much as the sensations of happiness and love and positivity. We're taught from a young age that pain is bad and love is good, and the less pain in your life, the better.
Exhiliration/excruciation. The highest highs come with the lowest lows, and without one you cannot achieve the other.
It follows then, that if you're not used to dealing with pain, you don't know what to do with it when it comes. When it's inevitable, unavoidable, perhaps even necessary.
For so long I have buffered and cauterized my wounds, and as such they have never healed properly. I've done what I must to make the pain go away. The pain I now feel is the kind of hurt that doesn't go away with a pill or a bandage. It lay dormant, sleeping, until one day it attacked, and I shut into myself, pleading and begging it to just leave me the fuck alone, already, I have enough to deal with without you making things worse
This is quite possibly the scariest thing I've ever done...letting myself lay bare and feel...let myself bleed and suffer and face my scars head-on. Is it so wrong to want to hurt? I'm not talking about self infliction, or cutting, or anything damaging...but really, to face what the world gives you head on? Is that so bad? Finding out that you thought you were doing just that, when in reality you were just watching the movie...is overwhelming.
Sometimes the attempt at mitigating your pain causes even more pain.
Sometimes you hurt so much you can't feel anymore - you become numb to the sensations. That's when you have to pull back and regain perspective.
Sometimes the most toxic, addictive things in your life are the things that you can't easily rid from yourself. Sometimes they are the things that make you you - to unwind them and separate them would be to unravel yourself at the threads and seams...and the thought of being left with a pile of string and no idea how to weave it back together into something usable is scarier than taking out the bad stuff. And moreso - even if you knew how to rework your pieces...how would you know that the end result was somehow better than what you had before?
Breaking down to build back up is tricky business.
As you place the don't disturb sign on the door
You lost your place in line again, what a pity
You never seem to want to dance anymore
It's a long way down on this roller coaster
The last chance streetcar went off the track
And you're on it
I hear you're counting sheep again Mary Jane
What's the point of trying to dream anymore?
I hear you're losing weight again Mary Jane
Do you ever wonder who you're losing it for?
Well it's full speed baby, in the wrong direction
There's a few more bruises if that's the way you insist on heading
Please be honest Mary Jane - are you happy?
Please don't censor your tears
You're the sweet crusader and you're on your way
You're the last great innocent, and that's why I love you
So take this moment Mary Jane and be selfish
Worry not about the cars that go by
All that matters Mary Jane is your freedom
Keep warm my dear, keep dry
Mary Jane-Alanis Morrissette
I've been thinking a lot about hurt.
Hurt and pain come in many forms - we have physical pain, emotional pain, physiological pain in response to psychological pain.
Sharp pain, dull pain, intermittent pain, persistent pain.
There's a pain scale - you've seen it in your doctor's office - "Rate your pain on a scale of 1-10" with a crying sad face on one end and a happy, smiley face on the other.
Hurt causes pain.
It can be anything from a paper cut to the most excruciating torture imaginable.
We cauterize pain - we do what we can to avoid it, we take pills to quell it, we run from it. We even say "I don't want to hurt you" just as we get ready to issue words that, once said, will inflict it. We make up stories to save face, we are not honest in our dealings with others. We let people down easy, we take the high road, we avoid conflict. Anything at all not to feel pain. Or hurt.
As humans, though, we are meant to hurt. The sensations of pain are what remind us that we are alive, just as much as the sensations of happiness and love and positivity. We're taught from a young age that pain is bad and love is good, and the less pain in your life, the better.
Exhiliration/excruciation. The highest highs come with the lowest lows, and without one you cannot achieve the other.
It follows then, that if you're not used to dealing with pain, you don't know what to do with it when it comes. When it's inevitable, unavoidable, perhaps even necessary.
For so long I have buffered and cauterized my wounds, and as such they have never healed properly. I've done what I must to make the pain go away. The pain I now feel is the kind of hurt that doesn't go away with a pill or a bandage. It lay dormant, sleeping, until one day it attacked, and I shut into myself, pleading and begging it to just leave me the fuck alone, already, I have enough to deal with without you making things worse
This is quite possibly the scariest thing I've ever done...letting myself lay bare and feel...let myself bleed and suffer and face my scars head-on. Is it so wrong to want to hurt? I'm not talking about self infliction, or cutting, or anything damaging...but really, to face what the world gives you head on? Is that so bad? Finding out that you thought you were doing just that, when in reality you were just watching the movie...is overwhelming.
Sometimes the attempt at mitigating your pain causes even more pain.
Sometimes you hurt so much you can't feel anymore - you become numb to the sensations. That's when you have to pull back and regain perspective.
Sometimes the most toxic, addictive things in your life are the things that you can't easily rid from yourself. Sometimes they are the things that make you you - to unwind them and separate them would be to unravel yourself at the threads and seams...and the thought of being left with a pile of string and no idea how to weave it back together into something usable is scarier than taking out the bad stuff. And moreso - even if you knew how to rework your pieces...how would you know that the end result was somehow better than what you had before?
Breaking down to build back up is tricky business.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Goodnight, You Moonlight Ladies
This morning, the girl suggested to the boy and myself that she would enjoy having a baby brother. We asked her if she knew what exactly was entailed in having a new baby in the house, and she said "yeah, well, you have to feed it."
And...
"And you give it time to sleep."
And...
The boy reminded her about the diaper changing and the late nights and sharing everything, and she still seemed pretty insistent at the thought. I played along a bit, goading the boy. "Well, you know...I'll be 31, and I'm not working so we wouldn't have child care issues...and we're living pretty cheap right now...we could time it around finals..."
His answer: "Are you seriously considering the family planning suggestions of a five year old?"
Me: "No, not really. We'll maintain the policy position: whatever happens happens."
And in a way, I get it - we're a lovely little threesome, complete as can be and thoroughly content. Sometimes though, I wonder if we'll have more kids. I am absolutely satisfied with just the girl, but part of me wonders what another child of ours might look like, might act like. How would I be different as a parent at age 31-32 than I was at 25?
Would I be heartbroken if we never had any more kids? How could I be? We're incredibly blessed. Then I hear an old James Taylor song, and my mind wanders to a place where I sit in my glider, breastfeeding a tiny cream-and-blue bundle, the girl watching me intently...and I quietly sing to both of them.
There is a young cowboy he lives on the range, his horse and his cattle are his only companions
He works in the saddle and he sleeps in the canyons, waiting for summer, his pastures to change
And as the moon rises he sits by his fire, thinking about women and glasses of beer
And closing his eyes as the doggies retire, he sings out a song which is soft but its clear
As if maybe someone could hear
Goodnight you moonlight ladies, rockabye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose, won't you let me go down in my dreams
And rockabye sweet baby James
Now the first of December was covered with snow
And so was the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston
Lord, the Berkshires seemed dream-like on account of that frosting
With ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go
Theres a song that they sing when they take to the highway
A song that they sing when they take to the sea
A song that they sing of their home in the sky
Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep
But singing works just fine for me
So goodnight you moonlight ladies, and rockabye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose, won't you let me go down in my dreams
And rockabye sweet baby James
And...
"And you give it time to sleep."
And...
The boy reminded her about the diaper changing and the late nights and sharing everything, and she still seemed pretty insistent at the thought. I played along a bit, goading the boy. "Well, you know...I'll be 31, and I'm not working so we wouldn't have child care issues...and we're living pretty cheap right now...we could time it around finals..."
His answer: "Are you seriously considering the family planning suggestions of a five year old?"
Me: "No, not really. We'll maintain the policy position: whatever happens happens."
And in a way, I get it - we're a lovely little threesome, complete as can be and thoroughly content. Sometimes though, I wonder if we'll have more kids. I am absolutely satisfied with just the girl, but part of me wonders what another child of ours might look like, might act like. How would I be different as a parent at age 31-32 than I was at 25?
Would I be heartbroken if we never had any more kids? How could I be? We're incredibly blessed. Then I hear an old James Taylor song, and my mind wanders to a place where I sit in my glider, breastfeeding a tiny cream-and-blue bundle, the girl watching me intently...and I quietly sing to both of them.
There is a young cowboy he lives on the range, his horse and his cattle are his only companions
He works in the saddle and he sleeps in the canyons, waiting for summer, his pastures to change
And as the moon rises he sits by his fire, thinking about women and glasses of beer
And closing his eyes as the doggies retire, he sings out a song which is soft but its clear
As if maybe someone could hear
Goodnight you moonlight ladies, rockabye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose, won't you let me go down in my dreams
And rockabye sweet baby James
Now the first of December was covered with snow
And so was the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston
Lord, the Berkshires seemed dream-like on account of that frosting
With ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go
Theres a song that they sing when they take to the highway
A song that they sing when they take to the sea
A song that they sing of their home in the sky
Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep
But singing works just fine for me
So goodnight you moonlight ladies, and rockabye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose, won't you let me go down in my dreams
And rockabye sweet baby James
Friday, February 29, 2008
The Wrong Side of the Bed
I woke up this morning, quite literally, on the wrong side of the bed. I was tardy in retiring last night, and the boy had not only invaded my normal side of our king-size pillowtop, but had used most of the pillows and blankets in the construction of what appeared to be a fortress of solitude. Nevertheless, I crawled in, helped myself to covers and pillows and bedded down.
The issue of mattress-related real estate is an ongoing controversy here at Casa Thompson.
On our wedding night, I chose the right side of the bed, mostly because I got there first. Also, I have no fear of sleeping close to the door, and have volunteered to do so whilst traveling with friends and family, in order to accommodate those who might harbor that particular fear. In our honeymoon suite, the right side of the bed was closer to the door.
When we returned to our apartment, I again chose the right side of the bed.
On our honeymoon, the right side of the bed.
Old house? Right side of the bed. (However, in setting up the room, the right side ended up away from the door. Not that I minded.)
New house? Right side of the bed.
When we sleep together, in the same bed, my side is the right side of the bed.
It has been thus since the priest blessed us and we walked up the aisle that gorgeous, windy May day in 1999. Apparently, nobody bothered to inform the boy that the side-choosing codicil was written (in very fine print, but not so fine as to be termed unconscionable) on our marriage license.
He has often requested, implored, and otherwise harangued me in the nine years of our marriage: Can we switch sides please? The answer, of course, is no! The right side of the bed is mine.
This issue has wormed its way into our conversations with other married folks, young and old, and if ever we come across a couple to whom the question has not been raised, we will generally ask their opinion (provided that we are on a personal enough basis to discuss marriage and its various issues with said couple). I am consistently vindicated in my territorial defense; I think we've met one, maybe two couples who have swapped sides at some point; we have never met a couple who beds down willy-nilly every night, choosing sides at the flip of a coin or simply lying where they fall. Chaos! Chaos, I say!!
Why is it so damned important? Well, I honestly can't say. Something about order and routine, and marking territory, I'm sure. In this communal marital life, we have so little individual property to cling to - everything is shared. Even our bed. After you've been married awhile, things stop taking on the persona of yours and mine. Sure, we have our individual wardrobes, though I steal his sweaters and he steals my tee-shirts. We each have an iPod (or had an iPod, in my case), we each have a computer. Our music and books are commingled, the furniture originated during our marriage, our finances are wholly indivisible at this point. Perhaps the bed issue is just another way for us to recognize that two parts make up the whole, and knowing our place in the whole jumble helps make sense of it all.
And in our current bedroom, my side of the bed is closer to the door.
The issue of mattress-related real estate is an ongoing controversy here at Casa Thompson.
On our wedding night, I chose the right side of the bed, mostly because I got there first. Also, I have no fear of sleeping close to the door, and have volunteered to do so whilst traveling with friends and family, in order to accommodate those who might harbor that particular fear. In our honeymoon suite, the right side of the bed was closer to the door.
When we returned to our apartment, I again chose the right side of the bed.
On our honeymoon, the right side of the bed.
Old house? Right side of the bed. (However, in setting up the room, the right side ended up away from the door. Not that I minded.)
New house? Right side of the bed.
When we sleep together, in the same bed, my side is the right side of the bed.
It has been thus since the priest blessed us and we walked up the aisle that gorgeous, windy May day in 1999. Apparently, nobody bothered to inform the boy that the side-choosing codicil was written (in very fine print, but not so fine as to be termed unconscionable) on our marriage license.
He has often requested, implored, and otherwise harangued me in the nine years of our marriage: Can we switch sides please? The answer, of course, is no! The right side of the bed is mine.
This issue has wormed its way into our conversations with other married folks, young and old, and if ever we come across a couple to whom the question has not been raised, we will generally ask their opinion (provided that we are on a personal enough basis to discuss marriage and its various issues with said couple). I am consistently vindicated in my territorial defense; I think we've met one, maybe two couples who have swapped sides at some point; we have never met a couple who beds down willy-nilly every night, choosing sides at the flip of a coin or simply lying where they fall. Chaos! Chaos, I say!!
Why is it so damned important? Well, I honestly can't say. Something about order and routine, and marking territory, I'm sure. In this communal marital life, we have so little individual property to cling to - everything is shared. Even our bed. After you've been married awhile, things stop taking on the persona of yours and mine. Sure, we have our individual wardrobes, though I steal his sweaters and he steals my tee-shirts. We each have an iPod (or had an iPod, in my case), we each have a computer. Our music and books are commingled, the furniture originated during our marriage, our finances are wholly indivisible at this point. Perhaps the bed issue is just another way for us to recognize that two parts make up the whole, and knowing our place in the whole jumble helps make sense of it all.
And in our current bedroom, my side of the bed is closer to the door.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Curious George Goes To Law School
Further evidence that my brain is being warped, nay addled, nay MOLDED into thinking like a lawyer.
It was my turn to do the bedtime routine tonight with the girl. As usual, we read a story, and tonight's selection was Curious George and the Dump Truck. During storytime, my brain began to fire away at the legal ramifications of George's actions, and after I tucked the girl in, I absconded with the book and immediately signed in to GChat to confer with my colleagues. NB: I am "me" and my friend Kate is "Kate". Sooz makes a cameo appearance.
Sooz has joined
Kate has joined
me: i have a question for you both
Kate: hurry - I have to study!
:)
me: it has to do with school!
is curious george committing a tortious act if he climbs into the cab of the unattended dump truck and spills the load of dirt into the pond in the park?
who's liable?
Kate: yes?
me:can we hold george as well as the city gardeners jointly and severally liable for the damage inflicted on the pond?
Kate: can we hold a monkey liable?
doubt it
Sooz:watching the biggest loser!
Kate: therefore, the city gardeners are fully liable
me: or do we have to bow to respondeat superior and sue whoever the contractor is who employs the gardeners
Kate: we can probably sue both the gardeners and their contract
me: and if they are employed by the city and it's city land
Kate: plus the city because they have big pockets
me: the city can't sue itself right?
Kate: oh, the city is suing?
Don't know why they'd want to sue themselves
No, the city would sue the contractors and the gardeners
George is safe, since he's a monkey
me: or could they hold the gardeners personally liable because they left the truck unsecured and unatended
Kate: they'd probably try for them all
me: yes, but he's a good little monkey and always very curious!
Kate: but he's still a monkey
me: ok
Kate: therefore beyond the arms of the tortfesors
me: so could they go after The Man In The Yellow Hat?
Kate: probably
me: as George's guardian?
Kate: because he should have been watching George better
But wait
People sue little kids and not their parents so I don't know
me: george escaped from the house and followed a row of ducklings to the park
hmmm
maybe i should bring this up in torts...professor r might get a kick out of it
Kate: But since he's a monkey and they can't sue him, I think they could sue the Man in the Yellow Hat
you should bring it up!!
Say you read a story this week
me: and this is what law school is doing to me - i can't read my daughter a bedtime story without thinking about a possible tort!
Kate: and wanted to know who could get sued!
Hahaha
me:it was her bedtime story tonight
geeeez
Kate: figured as much
me: ok - as you were
Kate: OK, time to start Ks
me: i can just see it: Girl, Mommy has to take Curious George to law school today.
Kate:She's prolly get a kick out of it
me: ok
True story.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Come On, Get Higher
I have yet to purchase Some Mad Hope, the newest release from Matt Nathanson. However, I shall rectify that shortly. And a full review will no doubt follow.
I was introduced to Matt's music by a good online friend and fellow JM fangirl. (Thanks, Jen!). The thing I love about Matt is that his words are lyrical, poetic and honest. He has beautiful imagery, but in listening to the words, I don't feel mired in highfalutin metaphor.
Easily the best cut I've heard from the album (and I can't evaluate it in total because I haven't heard it all the way through, as a complete piece of work) is Come On, Get Higher. Matt has stated that Some Mad Hope follows the arc of a relationship, and this song is the epitome of what makes love complicated. He sings of missing the feel of a lover in bed, missing the words they say (sweet, perfect, violent), needing them back at whatever cost, knowing it's an unlikely situation, hoping for a miracle. Some mad hope indeed, is what keeps us coming back for more from our lovers and partners.
I miss the sound of your voice, I miss the rush of your skin
I miss the still of the silence, as you breathe out and I breathe in
If I could walk on water, if i could tell you what's next
Make you believe, make you forget
Come on get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire and the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard and drown me in love
I miss the sound of your voice, the loudest thing in my head
And I ache to remember all the violent, sweet, perfect words that you said
If I could walk on water, if I could tell you what's next
Make you believe, make you forget
Come on get higher,loosen my lips
Faith and desire and the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard and drown me in love
I feel the pull of your heart
I taste the sparks on your tongue
I see angels and devils and God when you come on hold on...
Sing sha la la la...
Come on get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire and the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard and drown me
Drown me in love
It's all wrong, its so right
Come on get higher, come on and get higher
Because everything works love
Because everything works in your arms
"Come On, Get Higher" has been on repeat ad nauseum in my earbuds for the last few days, and it is not only a beautiful piece of music, it is a fantastic expression of love and hope and sex and dreams.
Speaking of which, the BoDeans have a new album out, and that will require investigating...
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