Forest Park

Maybe running around Forest Park twice in three days is a poor idea? 

First sign it’s too hot:  you come out of the bathroom and an odd, short, sweaty woman deliriously approaches you and your friend, waxing poetic on margarita flavored shot bloks.  "I didn’t even get any stomach cramping!"  You manage to get away…barely…

You start running.  It’s fine.  Then the nausea kicks in.  You fight through.  You stop.  You lean over.  You WISH for anything to make it stop. 

It comes and goes.  Ultimately you and your friend walk the last two miles.  You try not to feel like an abject failure.  And you fail at not feeling like a failure.

You go to the convenience mart.  Which is inconveniently sold out of low calorie Gatorade.  Great. 

You make it home.  You shower.  You go to Dressel’s and have the lamb burger.  Chris suggests you are being overly dramatic.  Maybe.  Maybe not.  Maybe you’re tired of the heat, of the summer.  Or maybe you just don’t run well in the late afternoon. 

You sit on the couch, still mildly nauseous.  (No, readers.  No.)

It’s 10:00 pm, maybe it’s time to hit the hay.  Tomorrow is a new day.

We are not in the bike-a-thon

I grew up in a small town in South Carolina.   Clinton, South Carolina. 

I used to spend much of my free time (at least in the summer) traipsing around town on my bike with my younger sister Leslie and my friend Suzanne.  I don’t remember quite how old we were, but I’d say under 10 (and then subtract three years for Leslie.)  We would ride our bikes all day long, only occasionally stopping to collect enough change to hit up the Pizza Inn buffet, which was a place that charged 20 cents per year, so it was easy to get enough change for that.  They also gave out free buffet coupons for perfect report cards and we tended to have a fair amount of those lying around too.

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One day there was a bike-a-thon of sorts going through the neighborhood we lived in.  A lot of people rode by, and kept asking us if we were in the bike-a-thon.  We got tired of being asked that, so we made signs that we put on our backs that said "We are not in the bike-a-thon."

I try to remember that when I tease children today.  Sometimes it gets old.  And you want to make a sign about it, because then people will stop asking you.  And then later you realize that likely no one thought you were in the bike-a-thon because you were a bunch of little girls riding your bikes around a neighbor’s driveway, and the bike-a-thon was all adults, adults who thought they were VERY FUNNY.

Are you going to blog about this?

I had a conversation with a friend the other day about what sort of thing I might write about on my blog.  This particular friend, we’ll call them Pat to preserve anonymity, had recently opened up to me about an incredibly embarrassing thing that had happened to them, and afterwards, I joked that I would be writing about it on my blog.  Pat looked at me in HORROR and I said, OF COURSE I am kidding.  The next time I saw Pat I had to laugh at them again, and Pat asked if I had blogged about it (step one, friends, read my blog, you’ll know if I say anything about you!) and I said, OF COURSE not, what sort of person do you think I am?

Well, evidently Pat thought I was the sort of person who might blog about their most embarrassing moment.  That was a sobering moment in our relationship.  When I realized that Pat thinks I’m a terrible friend.

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I reassured Pat that I would absolutely never do that.  I am NOT that sort of person. (Or, I try not to be…) 

  • My friends don’t need my help in embarrassing them, they can all do that perfectly well by themselves.
  • My blog is primarily about me. 
  • If I say I’m not going to blog about something, I won’t. 
  • I don’t even blog about MY most embarrassing moments. 
  • The story had nothing to do with my cat or my wedding.
  • Also, the story was HARDLY PG rated, and thus inappropriate for my blog.

Here’s the lesson, friends:  please don’t NOT tell me things because you are afraid I’ll blog about them.  I have some common sense, and if in doubt, ask me not to.  I also try not to put up bad pictures of you all—I only put up bad pictures of myself.  So don’t be shy, and don’t be afraid of telling me your deepest, darkest secrets, because they will go in the vault.  Well, no.  I don’t have a vault, but they won’t go on the blog.

I saw this link on twitter this morning and I have been laughing hysterically.  I recommend you check it out if you want a good laugh.  (It is not PG rated though, I recommend only adults click this link.)

World’s Most Absurd Warning Signs and Disclaimers

Celebrity Eclipse

Did I mention we booked our honeymoon?  Am I supposed to share these things?  Don’t worry, you’re not getting to see the DRESS until after January 2.

Here’s what we’ve booked:

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That’s right…surprise, surprise, it’s a cruise!  We booked a balcony in Aqua Class, which is a slightly fancier than usual class.  You only get one honeymoon, right?  And Chris managed to finagle a paid week off, so that’s even better.  I am excited!  I may wear my wedding dress the entire week.  (Is that wrong?)

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When I tried this on, I asked the saleslady how many swans died to make that dress.  No, that’s not my wedding dress.

Wedding planning update (if you’re keeping track):

We just ordered our invitations!  They are going to the printer soon…I cannot WAIT to see them (squeals like a little girl obsessed with paper.)

Also can’t wait for the engagement photos

And the honeymoon is (partially) booked!

The next few steps include FINALLY getting the bridesmaid dresses and starting to look at wedding bands.  We also need to do some things for our ceremony (there’s a questionnaire our officiant needs back that we have had for months but haven’t filled out…it has some questions about feelings and stuff that is not our strong suit so we’re avoiding it) and then order a few things from etsy I’ve bookmarked but just haven’t gotten to yet.  Can I mention how much I LOVE etsy.com?  So far we’ve gotten our invitations and my earrings there, but we’ve got a couple things planned on, plus maybe our bridesmaid or groomsmen gifts may come from there as well.  If you haven’t been, I highly recommend it (you WILL spend hours though.)

Those bloggers

Doesn’t the word "those" look really funny?  I find the longer I stare at the word the more unlikely I am to be able to pronounce it or even recognize it as a word.  Blog is a funny word too.  Maybe it’s because both words start with two consonants?  At least blog is a word that was created from two other words (web log, if you didn’t know.)  What’s the excuse, those?

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A friend was asking me a couple of questions yesterday about my blog.  It came up in our conversation that I had met people through my blog, and he couldn’t believe that.  (What, like-minded people coming together?  CRAZY!)  But six months ago I might have thought it was crazy too.  (I will never use the term blend.  I pinky swear.)

The thing is, being a blogger is a pretty unique/crazy thing.  I have definitely grown into my blog here, but I absolutely love it.  I want people to read it (oh, I do, I do!) and I think a fair amount of you do.  I want it to be humorous but insightful, like I am.  And I think it’s neat to meet new people through the blog or through social media (which I use primarily to promote myself, ergo, my blog.)  And, confession time, I’m totally jealous of all the bloggers headed to Healthy Living Summit this weekend.  I kind of want to go next year, and I kind of want my sister Leslie to start a blog and go with me.  Plus we need to meet Meghann…I already know her through twitter as she has TWICE responded to my tweets (maybe three times, I’ve lost count.)

The next question was how long do I spend on my blog each day?  Basically anywhere from 15 minutes to…several hours.  Usually closer to 15 to 30 minutes though.  Sometimes I can write something terrible in less though!  But it takes awhile to search the internet for a relevant Lolcat photo.  Or irrelevant.  Doesn’t matter.

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What is the genre of my blog?  What would you say?  People always want to categorize blogs, and evidently you get more readers if you have a "theme."  There’s healthy living blogs, mommy blogs, runner blogs, food blogs, weight loss blogs, dating blogs…I recently had my blog listed at the healthy living blogs site because, while it is not only a blog about healthy living, it is definitely a blog about healthy living.  Or at least, neurotic living.  In fact, the less healthy I think I live, the more my readers compliment my balance!  (See, my trip to Chicago where I was freaking out over all the crap I ate.  Walking 300 miles over the weekend balanced that out.  And several people sent me facebook messages.  I guess my friends worry I am too hard on myself.)  But honestly, I eat tons of fruits/veggies/whole grains/fish and I work out six to eight hours a week, if that’s not healthy (or like I’ve already said, neurotic) I don’t know what is!  Keep in mind I’m currently on the couch in my pajamas so I do enjoy my downtime as well.

The issue at hand here, really, is that last night I started a book I shouldn’t have. Madness: A Bipolar Life by Marya Hornbacher.  My friend Emily recommended it (thanks Em!).  The problem is, whenever I read a book about bipolar I start to worry that I’m crazy as well (I shouldn’t use the word crazy, but just be assured I am using it for lack of a better word.)  I worry that my mind racing and my fast talking is actually me being manic rather than simply a little hyper or over enthusiastic.  So I kept waking up all night long worrying about it.  Also worrying about whatever else there was possible to worry about.

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But obviously the author of the book has much more drastic mood swings than I do.  I never, for instance, break things or cut myself.  I am simply more likely to want to go out at night, or do things with friends rather than sit at home.  Or I’ll need to go for a run or go to the gym.  I think that’s all in the normal range. 

Note to any readers who use Google reader:  I made a mistake yesterday.  I’m working on creating a blog for Chamber Project St Louis and I was messing with Windows Live Writer and accidentally published something to this blog.  I immediately deleted it, but I know it showed up in Google reader.  Sorry to confuse you all (if I did.)  Yes, that’s me, the "blog expert" who failed in a variety of small ways.  That’s how I roll 😉

Vegas by bike

I wanted to share with you a few pictures of Chris and the guys from his Vegas trip.  This was his official Bachelor Party, even though we aren’t getting married till January.  I was under the impression that "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas," but evidently pictures and video were taken, and at this point I think I have heard everything that happened in Vegas, most of it several times.  However, most of the pictures/video are of golf, which happened 3 or 4 days.

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Will, Norbert, John Mac, Jon R, Chris, Jeff, and Dave.  Also pictured:  Dave’s Vegas Mustache.

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Chris golfing!

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Yes, it’s a slow blog day ;)  But I think those are some nice pictures of the guys (and Dave’s mustache.)  Dave is Chris’s best man, Norbert and John Mac.  Dave’s mustache, sadly, has already left us—but perhaps it will return again some day.

My fun is yet to come:  Next weekend both my sisters are coming to St Louis for the first time!  We are going to have so much fun.  In fact, we will not do ANY golfing, and perhaps won’t even WATCH any golf, or football, or television.  It’ll be CRAZY.  (We may watch Gilmore Girls and Alias…)  There will be lots of eating, baking, cooking, working out, gossiping, and shopping.  Probably lots of coffee as well. 

My father sets out for his bike trip soon.  I don’t know exactly when, but he has created a twitter account to keep us all up to date.  If it’s okay with him I’ll share it, if you are interested in following his progress from South Carolina to St Louis to Phoenix, and (I think) to the Pacific Ocean.  On a bike.  And he doesn’t even get a medal or a belt buckle out of it…I don’t know if he’ll make it to Vegas, but I doubt he’ll have his golf clubs with him either way.  I do like the idea of biking over the Hoover Dam though!

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No room for clubs here.  I suppose my title is misleading.  Sorry!

thoughts about violin, teaching, running, life.