Archives for May 2009

Here, there, and everywhere

  • I finally figured out a plan for the garden this year. Now I just have to tackle the weeds. They are obscene and I hate them. But I’m looking forward to a summer with lots of strawberries and raspberries. And possibly some blueberries.
  • We had a frost warning last night and another one tonight. IT’S FREAKING MAY! Stop it with the frost already.
  • Joan, from writing group has a story up at Literary Mama, and it’s awesome. Go read it.
  • J and I are on week three of marathon training. I think we’ve decided to stop and revise when we hit ten miles. Then we’ll start working on speed, stride, burning fat, etc., since neither of us actually has any desire to run a full marathon, and I don’t think I have the time to devote to 15 mile runs on Sundays. I do, however, love having a running schedule, and love working on this with J. We run on the treadmill during the week and do some trail running on the weekends. I think we’ve logged 34 miles so far.
  • I put a hole in my foot on our second trail run, when a thorn pierced the bottom of my barefoot shoes. Foot injuries freak me out. In college, a friend’s roommate stepped on an unidentified pointy thing on the floor of their room (later inspection showed that it could have been a toenail, staple, broken paperclip, used toothpick, or apple stem). The wound got infected and he spent months on crutches. My foot is fine, but I am now using trail running shoes for trail running (I’m still barefoot running on the treadmill at home). I hate shoes.
  • Rewrites. Rewrites. Rewrites.
  • I have not been the world’s best friend lately. I am behind on phone calls, e-mail, and all that stuff. When I’m at the end of this draft, hopefully, I’ll catch up (and also write blog posts that aren’t in list form). My head is so busy figuring out things for my imaginary friends right now that I don’t have it in me to focus on much else.
  • Mrs. Gnome has mowed her lawn three times since last Thursday. We’ve mowed ours once this season.
  • JJ Abrams made me seasick this weekend. Would it have killed him to put at least one static shot in the entire film? I wish I’d worn my Sea-Bands, so I didn’t have to spend most of the movie with my head down pretending it was a radio play. And I don’t think it was worth it. I mean, maybe the visuals were what made the movie work. Maybe we were supposed to feel spacesick and I just don’t understand true art. But I feel like the king of plot twists failed to provide any, and I think it fell flat. Maybe I’d be a little less crabby about it if I hadn’t spent the duration of the movie worried that I might hurl used popcorn.

100 Things – 71-79

71. I rarely spell the word biscuit right on the first try.

72. I played Noah in a summer camp production of a musical about Noah’s Ark when I was 13 or so. Spirit-glued beard and everything.

73. I hate the sound of birds chirping. I’m kind of embarrassed by this, but it’s the truth. Like nails on a blackboard. There are tons of birds around our house b/c Mrs. Gnome feeds them, and I wish they’d just shut up already. And also, it would be nice if they’d stop pooping on our bedroom window.

74. I really, truly, and deeply love being 32.

75. I’ve always thought it would be fun to drive a steamroller.

76. I miss J when he’s at work. Even if we’re doing separate things, having him around makes me happy.

77. I can always make my left ankle crack.

78. I never get tired of watching the dogs run in their sleep.

79. My freshman year in college, I had this really cute new skirt and white flower patterned tights (shut up, it was the mid-90’s), and I wore them for the first time on this beautiful spring day and people kept smiling at me – huge, beaming grins. I felt so cute in that skirt and I was convinced they were all smiling at me because I was so cute and it was so beautiful out and life was grand. It put this little spring in my step. I’ll admit it, I was strutting in my high heeled sneakers (shut up, it was the mid-90’s). I got back to my dorm room and realized that my skirt had been caught on my backpack, and I had just walked through campus showing everyone my butt, encased in stupid purple underwear and white tights. Now, when people I don’t know smile at me, I am highly suspicious.