Questionable Choices

I don't think I've told you, but I enjoy an apple after every training run.

Today's apple is quite the delight since I made the questionable decision to run outside at noon while it's a ripe 88 degrees. I'm lucky I didn't burst into flames.

I'm not sure what compelled me to run at noon. Clearly it goes against my best judgment. Every experienced runner knows not to run at noon in temperatures above 70 degrees. Period. There is no arguing with that logic.

And not only did I decide to run at noon, but I also decided it would be a brilliant idea to do speed work. At noon. In the 88 degree heat. Again, not my best choice.

When I got to the trails, I should have known not to go through with it considering it was me and the crickets. Not a car or human in sight. (Seriously, rethinking it now as I write it makes it sound so much worse because it really is a dumb thing to do.)

As I'm stretching, beads of sweat rolled down my neck. Disgusting. Hadn't even moved yet. So I changed my plans of speed work to a 3 mile tempo run, and I took off.

Y'all, it's so hot the animals weren't even out. No deer. No snakes. No nothing. Just me, the crickets and the huge flying grasshoppers.

I spent mile one playing a game of dodge the huge man-eating grasshoppers. Seriously, why do they have scissors for legs? I think one cut me. By the time my walk break came, I was beyond hot, but I was keeping a steady pace.

So I kept going knowing that mile two would be more in the shade. For this mile, I played a game of don't vomit because the smell of pine trees intensifies due to the excessive heat. Pine is not my favorite smell. Definitely not even close.

Mile three was a test of sheer will power. Mentally, I wanted to quit. The heat was extreme. The shade was no more. The smell of pine lingered in my nose. And just as I decided I would walk the last half mile, a girl in a hot pink top and matching shorts with full make-up jaunted right by me as if I was standing still.

Ahhhhhhh, hell no.

Something inside me died. And I think it was a touch of my sanity. Stupid make-up wearing sassy pants gave me the little extra something to push the pine smell and heat wave out of my mind. And somehow, only God knows how, I made it the whole three miles.

Here are my stats:

Time: 35:21
Distance: 3.0 miles
Best Pace: 9:18 (pretty sure it was due to sassy pants wearing the make-up or the pine smell don't vomit game)
Average Pace: 11:48 (much better)
Calories: 352

You can call me crazy, and that might be accurate. But I think my questionable decisions turned out for the best. At least they did today.

Tell me about your questionable decision that turned out alright. I love a good story.

First Class Roommate

I've lived with the same roommate for 5 years. I mean that has to be a world record. And everyone thinks Samantha, the roommate, is the quietest, sweetest girl ever. Everyone loves her.

But nobody knows that she is an absolute loonybird. She's not a bit quiet. In fact, she never shuts up. And she has a bit of an attitude, which I like to think she picked up from me throughout the years of living with me.

The reason I bring this up is because everyone thinks the roommate has it together. That she is prim and proper and lady-like. Nobody ever sees what she's really like.

Last night I caught her in one of her finer moments.

This is mild compared to the fact that she likes to scream into the couch cushions and has conversations with me while sitting on the couch facing the wall.

And I always say, "Nobody's ever here." Nobody ever sees her like this except me.

Clearly she's insane and hilairious. And the comedic relief that I live with every day.

So stop saying that she's quiet. Don't do that anymore. Because it's a false statement.

The kid never shuts up. And if you listen to her, you wouldn't want her to shut up because she is the funniest person I know. She's a guaranteed laughfest.

Other classic Samantha/roommate moments:

• The time she made me go get Dorito's with her in a hurricane.
• The time her arm looked like death.
• The time she hid old tennis shoes in her trunk for 3 years.
• The time she made an awesome t-shirt.
• The time she lured you in with her photogenic self.

I hope I've cleared up any misconceptions of the roommate and her insanity. And now you know. So next time you see her, scream at her and I'd bet she'll scream back.

Stress Would Not Exist at the Beach

I've been through the ringer at work this week. It's be cray cray for realz. So bad that I woke up this morning feeling stressed and out of sorts. And I haven't been able to shake that feeling all day. Sigh. And let's not even talk about school and how my thesis advisor has yet to respond to an urgent e-mail. Double sigh.

Let's not go there. Let's go to the happy place. The beach.

I spent my days like this:

I'd start out in the chair.

Let the water lap at my toes.

Then I'd move to the beach blanket to sun my extremely white back. And take naps. Which is what happened in this picture. I'm pretty sure I drooled on my towel. Not that it matters. I was at the beach. Don't judge me.

I also had a little "accident" with the condo's coffee maker. And by accident I mean it exploded. Coffee exploded out the top and down the side and all over the counter. It was molten lava hot coffee. So after that, the roommate and I ventured out for our morning joe.

A champion breakfast of cinnamon raisin french toast and hashbrowns were also consumed during a coffee outing one morning.

Nobody was upset that the toast slices were as big as my face. And pure heaven. I'm pretty sure Jesus had a hand in creating this breakfast. Thank you Lord.

I also got to see a real live sea creature.

This little beauty washed ashore. And I have no idea what it is. It's little legs would fall off when we touched it. And it was slimy and mushy. But still a sea creature. Pretty cool.

I need to go back to this happy place to recover from my horrid work week.

But instead I will brave the grocery store and Wal-Mart because I have nan food. Or shampoo. Or conditioner. Or soap. Or detergent. So basically I stink. Ha. Just kidding. But this shopping trip MUST happen today.

I'm going to make eggplant lasagna tonight for dinner and go for an evening run. After yesterday and today, I need to pound out the pavement and get rid of this stress. Pray for a good run.

What are your plans for the weekend?
~~~I am going to sleep later than 7:15 in the morning. Drink coffee out of my new "Life is Good mug." And maybe clean the apartment...maybe.

What do you do to de-stress?

Tell Me This Didn't Just Happen Thursday

So today we are going to do this old school. And by old school I mean story telling with minimal photos.

You may have read yesterday about the late night weekend with the d-baggish guy and the detrimental phone number exchange...So I thought I'd give you the 411 on what happened and why I am doomed in the dating world. 23 and doomed. Yep.

During and after the Dark Days, I didn't want to date anyone because I didn't trust anyone. But as we all know time heals all wounds.

A little over a year ago, I accepted an invitation for a coffee date with a boy who was mutual friends with some of my guy friends.

Now let me clarify something before we get too far along, I like guys who have a sense of humor, however, I need to have some kind of spark that is the physical attraction. And that spark is few and far between, and I did not have it with coffee date boy, but I thought I'd be open-minded and try something new.

Well I was bored the whole time, and what happens when I get bored is my sarcasm makes a big appearance. And coffee date boy thought I was funny. So he laughed at me. With gray, brown teeth. How can this be made up?

Clean mouths are very important to me. Personal hygiene is very important to me. This point comes into play when he stretched his arms over his head to reveal pit stains. So needless to say, coffee date boy and I had no more coffee dates or any dates for that matter.

After this incident, I think I was a little bit scarred. And terrified. Dating is simply terrifying in its own right, but when the date is bad, it takes things to a whole new level.

Case in point: Last Saturday night. I met up with some friends to go downtown for some drinks. At the bar, I kept running into this guy. I didn't know him, but he looked friendly and inviting.

After the 65th time of me being shoved into him by drunken crazies, he asked me to dance. So I said yes. Again trying to be open-minded and nice.

We didn't really dance. We just stood on the dance floor yelling get-to-know-each-other words. He didn't try to feel me up. He didn't say anything stupid. He looked clean. Had a clean mouth. We had some like interests. 26.

I thought hmmmm.....What's the catch? There didn't seem to be one. So when he asked for my phone number, I didn't feel threatened or creeped out so I gave it to him. Then my friends and I left the bar.

***I need to make a point to say that I never give my number out in bars. And it will NEVER EVER happen again.***

Kid blew my phone up from the time I left the bar until 5 A.M. when I got home. He called me once while I was still out and about with my friends. Then he called me again when I said I was going to bed. When I answered, he told me he had "waited up on me" so that he could talk to me when I got home.

The next day, he started blowing my phone up with text messages. He asked me to hang out with him, but I told him I had plans, which was true. And then the questions started.

What do you like to do? Where are you from? Can you cook? Are you a Christian? Where do you live? Where did you eat dinner tonight? Are you still with your friends?

In the midst of his Q&A, I learned that he had been married and divorced. Not a big deal. It was not something I was going to hold against him. Everyone has a past.

But as the day wore on, I kept feeling like all his questions were sizing me up to be his next wife. NOT COOL. By 8 P.M. that night, I was overwhelmed and a tad bit freaked out. The questions kept getting more and more personal. Like...Do you see this turning into something?

He also told me everything he was doing and all the places he was going, and he felt that I should tell him the same. Now that is a violation of my personal space. I don't have to tell anyone who I'm with or what I'm doing or when I get home. That is the independent Aquarius coming out in me.

I told him I thought his expectations were way too high too soon. He didn't understand. Then I had to tell him that it wasn't going to work for me. After begging me multiple times to give him another chance, he gave up. It was the first time my phone was quiet in 24 hours.

I thought I was in the clear. Until yesterday....

I was at work getting ready to do an interview. And this conversation happens.

Boy: Wanna go to Bonefish tonight?

Me: No thank you!

Boy: Just thought I'd try, truth is I'm desperate for attention... I'm not over my ex-wife.

Boy (20 minutes later): You seem like a great girl, I'm sorry and I'm gonna try to be normal again.

After he basically slapped me in the face with his being desperate for attention bit, I knew my decision to cut things off was the right thing to do. And what the H did he mean by going to try to be normal again? If he was normal to begin with, I wouldn't have been so turned off.

What I've learned: I don't like boys who are Stage 5 Clingers. I don't like boys who ask me 4987984979 questions that get more and more personal. I will NEVER EVER give my phone number out in a bar no matter how normal the guy may seem. I don't want a guy to give me a play-by-play of what they are doing all the time. I don't want to be sized up as a wife replacement.

This is what I want:

I want to laugh until it hurts. I want to do things together, but still do things with as independent people. I am terrified to lose myself in another person, to lose my individuality. I want us to be equals and support each other. I want him to WANT to surprise me, take me on dates, make silly cards, help me make tough decisions.

I want him to understand that I have a tendency to stress cry, chew my fingernails, be grossed out by feet, make stuff up when I don't know the exact answer, use massive amounts of sarcasm, talk in my sleep, leave a trail of hair on the bathroom floor, become enthralled by skanky romance novels AND the Tudor era, and build extravagant mountains out of trash before I get tired of letting it teeter and take it to the dumpster.

I want to be loved beyond my flaws and told so. And know that it's ok to be myself. No matter how weird that may be.

Is that too much? I like to think not....And I'm not settling for less.

Testing My Sanity

It's 4:42 P.M. Usually I've been home for about an hour and 42 minutes. Obviously today doesn't fit that bill.

It's been one of those days. You know the type. So this post will be an attempt at self therapy and self medication.

Case in point:

My version of self therapy and seld medication: Blogging and vino. So with that you get this.

I had to work on a Monday, which rarely happens. Summer camp at my office is in fun force, and we are trying to get everything settled so it can come to a close. I've been teaching some of the older kids how to blog, and today was a day we spent in the computer lab typing our work to be posted on said blog.

Stressor Number 1:

One of the 5th grade boys did not want to participate in today's activity. When I asked him why, he responded with a hand touching his throat and forehead, meaning that his throat and head hurt. I asked him if I needed to call his mother to come pick him up because he was feeling so bad. He shook his head no. So I told him he had to participate if he felt good enought to stay at camp. He just stared at me.

When I checked on him 20 minutes later, he had typed nothing on his paper. So I decided to watch him like a hawk. He would only write if I was standing directly behind his chair.

After 45 minutes, his classmates had all finished and went back to their classroom. He had written two short sentences. Then, the 4th graders came in.

After 45 more minutes, the 4th graders were finished and back in their classroom. And he was still sitting at his desk NOT typing. He had written at total of five short lines in two hours. I kept him until lunch time and made him type. What a tyrant I am.

I took him back to class and talked to his teacher. She said he fell asleep in class before coming to my class. Well that pissed me off even more. As a student, I would have never EVER fallen asleep in class. And I forgot to tell you that he argued with me when I was checking his spelling and grammar. Apparently he thinks he knows more than a college graduate and an ALMOST Master of Journalism. And I think he is totally cray cray.

His teacher suggested I write him up for his bad behavior and lack of drive to type a worthy paragraph. She also told me she had spoken to his parents and grandma FOUR times, and his attitude had yet to improve.

So once he had eaten lunch, I pulled him from the group and took him to the office. And then I told him I was writing him up for a bad attitude and a lack of following directions when asked. I told him that middle school would not put up with a boy who didn't do his work. And that I take a lot of time out of my work day to come teach him about blogging and writing for the Internet.

And then he cried. And I blew it. I said in an appalled voice, "Are you crying?????!!!!" I could not believe it. He didn't have the will to do the work, but he had the guts to cry in front of me when he got in trouble for it. I don't feel bad for him. I know I'm terrible.

Stressor Number 2: The summer campers are selling handmade products in the River Market tomorrow. So I have been trying to get local media outlets to come out and support us. I've written a press release, and I've sent all my information to the Communications Office. And nothing has happened. It's been over two weeks.

So I call my office's Communication's liaison. And she didn't answer. Keep in mind that I've sent her numerous e-mails, left voicemails, and I spoke to her last Thursday. She told me Thursday I would know something today.

So I call the other woman who takes care of media relations. She tells me she won't know if anyone is going to come the River Market sale until tomorrow morning after the local media meet and discuss story options. Ummm....tell me why someone couldn't have told me that to begin with.

Stressor Number 3: Facfocus, the UALR faculty listserv that sends out 8497254875487 pointless e-mails per day, did not send my River Market sale flyer I sent at 8:30 this morning. So I sent it again at 2:30 this afternoon.

Nothing happened.

So I called Computing Services. They told me that the server is backed up, but it should be fixed anytime. So my message should go out soon. Forty-five minutes later, my message still hasn't went out. So I call again.

Keep in mind stressor 2 is playing out at same time as stressor 3.

I call again. I get a different guy. I tell him my dilemma. He goes to find the original guy who helped me. While I'm on hold, I rant to my co-worker something like this.

This has been the worst day ever. I can't believe I made a kid cry. And now my dang message won't go out to facfocus. It's just my luck that Computing Services can't fix it today. How am I a Communications Coordinator, and I can't communicate to the publics I need. As soon as I leave here, I'm going straight to the liquor store to get the biggest bottle of white wine. Chilled so I don't have to wait to drink it. Ughhhhhhhhhh!!!

The guy gets back on the line and tell me he is going to transfer me to my original guy. And tacks this on to the end: "A big bottle of wine sounds pretty good right about now."

Yep. He heard me. Heard my whole entire rant. Awesome.

Moral: Be sure to wait for the horrid elevator music before starting the I-had-the-worst-day-ever-and-need-a-big-bottle-of-wine rant. Or else they could hear you.

I left work shortly after that feeling totally defeated. I drove straight to the liquor store and went straight to the wine cooler looking for my favorite vino. I didn't see it. I asked the guy working. Do you have Barefoot Riesling?

He said no.

THEY DON'T CARRY IT!!!

Defeated yet again.

So I bought Barefoot Mascato and called it a night.

Did I get anything for supper? Nope.

On a lighter note, the roommate, Logan and I ran last night in the blazing heat.

Here are the highlights:

Yeah, we were totally insane to run last night. It turned out better than we thought it would. Thankfully.

Hope you guys had a great and stress-free Monday. I'm going to drink my supper. See ju tomorrow. It's a new day.

GPOYW and Inner Crazy

Yesterday I had to take a conference call/training session for a new Web site my office is starting. So I got to chit chat with people in Kansas City.

And this is the highlight of the day:

Houston, this is Bravo requesting a fly by? (Did anyone get the slight reference to Top Gun?)

It really is the worst headset ever thought about. I don't think my messy bun really helps the situation, but who cares?

You are probably wondering if I will ever take a normal picture and post it on this blog. And the answer is probably not. Weird faces just come more natural to me. Smiling faces just get overanalyzed. Plus the smiles always look the same.

The weird faces give you a glimpse of what I'm "really" like. Everyone has a little bit of "something different" in them. And my philosophy is to embrace it. That is what makes you special.

So yesterday I rocked this sweet headset. And I'm totally cool with the fact that I looked cray cray.

At least I got paid to wear it. Score!

Challenge of the Day: Embrace the inner crazy that makes you who you are. It's time to own it. It's there for a reason. And who knows, someone may love it. Love you for who you ARE, not who you are TRYING to be.

So I'm going to rock out to my new playlist at work today and embrace my inner crazy. Here is what I will be listening to while taking on the challenge:

• "Dream On (Live)" - Aerosmith (My current OBSESSION. It's too much to handle.)
• "Edge of Seventeen" - Stevie Nicks
• "Hysteria (Live)" - Def Leppard
• "Keeping On Loving You" - REO Speedwagon
• "No One Like You" - Scorpions
• "Take It On the Run" - REO Speedwagon
• "Take Me Home Tonight" - Eddie Money
• "Photograph (Live)" - Def Leppard
• "Juke Box Hero" - Foreigner

What are you listening to right now?
80s Classic Rock is my favorite right now.

What is your take on the "inner crazy"?

Sometimes You Need a Real Coke

Today is one of those days where I need a real coke. Sometimes I crave cokes in a can that burn all the way down your throat. It's weird because I hate, but at the same time I love it.

So as you can see, I have added a Christmas Countdown because apparently I can't count anymore. I have been writing so much I forgot how to do simple math. It's sad, but true. I think it is a sign of my age. The older I get the less math I can remember.

It's been a pretty stressful week. I've been trying to get stuff done before Thanksgiving break. That way I will only have 984793487 things to do instead of 289452958279878239587 things to do.

School has a looming assignment hanging over my head like the Black Plague. One 10ish page paper, 3 book reports and one and a half books left to read. Then the semester will come to a much needed close. I can't wait for Dec. 15th. It will be the most looked forward to day of my whole entire year.

Well gotta go get my stuff together to take home from work. Then I'm off to class (who thinks it is a good idea to watch a movie the day before Thanksgiving Break starts? NOBODY!) Hopefully I can get a real coke ASAP. Until next time...