Thursday, August 28, 2008

A Nice Kinda Day

So I am going to hold my initial rant about Madonna and the DNC back (partly because I am sure everyone is still really riled up about the whole fiesta) but mostly because I want to give love to the man whom I am about to share a bank account and parking space.

It's our anniversary today.

From our first date to the Cubs game...
As he made his slow transition to Chicago living...There's a lot of "in between," but by now I am sure you've seen all the pictures. And for all our ups and downs with this long distance thing, I still can't believe he stuck around long enough to see that I'm not crazy 100% of the time.
So here's to our pending cohabitation, and many more years of blissful domesticity.
But uh, Cheese? I thought we talked about the toenail thing.
You're sweeping the floor from here on out.
Love ya.

And Some More Love
Today, I understood why people want to have children, and I discovered it with a visit to my sister’s house to see her and my 19-month-old nephew.

Now, given his recent brush with “Livin’ the High Life,” I half expected to see him sitting on the porch on his rocking horse, stogie in one hand and a bourbon in the other.

And he was there, rocking on the horse in the front window. When he saw me, he shouted, “Hi!” Well, sort of - it was like is garbled baby-speak.

Nonetheless, I was touched to think that, even with my disappearance the last few weeks, he still recognized me and even seemed excited to see me. But then I realized he was eyeing the little orange and white box I was carrying.

Seems Grammy has taken him ten-too-many-times to the Dunkin Donuts, so he could spot a Munchkin from a mile away.

Within minutes he was covered in powered sugar, all smiles and giggles and love.

We bounced on the bed (but stopped when he almost fell off, 'cause babies with broken necks aren’t fun), played tickle, and went for a short walk – but then it was off to work for me.

We parted with air kisses and a “Wube oo” from his sweet little face.

And for the first time in weeks, I actually felt calm.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Nothin' Like Family

Soooo...I thought hell week would end last week, but alas, it didn't want to go so quietly into the night. But come Monday night, I will be back to the "regular" work schedule, and new co-inhabitator - hence, a much less irritable me.

Yup, yup. It's the big move this weekend.

The lack of posts should be enough evidence that I am precariously walking the line of breakdown - not just the move, but EVERYTHING.

I am - FUCK - I am tired.

Throw in the nauseating DNC, ridiculously biased media hellbent on telling us how we should vote, a new landlord that is about to get a Megan-choke-out, and a UHaul store that doesn't know their ass from their left hand, and I all but OWN my "special room" at the local psych hospital.

Cheese is doing his darndest to keep my rage at bay, but sometimes even he can't handle the Super Bitch. Hey, I don't blame him - it's been a long few weeks. I can't even stand myself.

So it helps when you have friends calling to poke fun at high school bitches on Facebook, and other friends sending you articles about fried food such as fried Smores, bacon, and grilled cheese, to make you feel better about the garbage you have been shoving in your face during those all-nighters.

And it ALSO helps when you have family sending these texts:

“So I’m going pee and I hear “mmmm” and what do you know? He’s drinking a beer.”
9am text from my sister Ellen, explaining the morning breakfast routine with my 19-month-old nephew - I still don't know how he got it.

“Put up [a post] already. I’ve taken many lonely dumps with nothing to read on my crackberry.”
My brother Nolan in a text, his own sweet way of making sure I am alive….I think

And then finally, THIS:

Text caption read: "The Mayor of Whoville has found a new love: Fanta."

And by Fanta, she means "Miller."

Just after this picture was taken, Baby Nolan whipped out some extra cups and a roll quarters, looked at my sister, and said, "Game on, bitch."

Oh, and before I go -there'a lot of celebrities making a-holes out of themselves lately. I'll hit Madonna tomorrow ('cause this gem will make me vomit my dinner if I have to re-live it right now), but for today - I give you Puff Daddy (or P-Diddy, for those in the know) on why he'll be calling isle seat on the next American Airlines flight:

Diddy complaining about having to fly commercial. He rants:

“Gas prices are too motherfucking high. As you know, I do own my own jet and I have been having flying back and forth to LA pursuing my acting career. Now, if I’m flying back and forth, like, twice in a month that’s like $200,000 or $250,000 round trip. FUCK that. I’m back on American Airlines right now. Ok? Your boy Diddy right now is on American Airlines. Look. I want to give a shout out to all my Saudi Arabian brothers and sisters and all my brothers and sisters from all the countries that have oil, if you could all please send me some oil for my jet I would truly appreciate it. But right now, can you believe it, I am actually flying commercial. That’s how high gas prices are ok, so I feel you. Look, I’m at the gate right now. This is proof that gas prices are too high, we need to do something about it, so tell whoever the next president is that we need to bring gas back down.”

Do I even need to add commentary here? I mean, it kind sells itself, right? I guess this is how we know we have a national crisis - when PDiddy has to fly commercial with us lowly people because it's "too expensive" to fly his private plane.

Too expensive?

How about - environmentally irresponsible and disgusting waste of money that could actually be put to use and help people?

And NOW that it's affecting his comfort, he's calling upon Americans to do something?!?! What does he believe caused this gas "crisis?" Call me Britney-crazy, but it might have SOMETHING to do with our dependence upon it.

The best line of the whole thing? "Look, I’m at the gate right now. This is proof that gas prices are too high, we need to do something about it."

Oh, I feel your pain Diddy. The other day I had to pay my student loans, but then couldn't afford dinner because my job in child welfare pays dirt - I mean, it's no "acting career" but..wait, what? Not the same thing?


Eh, but this is the same guy that's going to "Rock the Vote" for Obama and talk about how we need to save the world and go green.

No wonder other countries hate us.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

A 16-Miler and Some Spectating Love

This morning called for a 16-miler. After waking up just slightly late, but late enough to have to forgo a real breakfast, coffee, and BM, I made it to the lakefront at about 6:45. This alone is a miracle fit for the Lord's day.

I had to loop it again due to the Chicago Tri chaos south of Ohio Street Beach. The first loop was great (running early did me well) but the second loop was tougher, complete with my own brand of knee pain called "Stop-Hurting-or-I'll-Give-You-Something-To-Cry-About-When-We-Get-Home."

Three gross-ass GUs and not nearly enough water stops later, I was done, and just in time to high-tail it one mile north to spectate at the bike-turnaround for the Chicago Accenture Tri.

As I wrote about earlier, the TRI for Life team was out there rocking the course. I literally set up my spectating spot ten minutes before I saw Lon speed by me (or speed as fast as that tiny turnaround would allow for!)

I then saw his brother (who I think I JUST missed on his first lap), and then Lon again for his second loop. They all looked fantastic, and I was sooo glad I got there on time.

See, if I had taken the time to eat breakfast pre-run, I woulda missed it all, so in the end, it was good decision making.

But what wasn't good decision making?

My lack of water.

When you're rockin' one kidney, you shouldn't do this.

And as a new general rule of thumb, I am SO good about taking care of this. But today, with the rushing around, I got horribly dehydrated out there. No water bottle in the car for post-run, which again, is not typical.

So when I wasn't screaming my face off for all the racers, I was talking to the ambulance guys who were there, silently hoping that if I did collapse (I came frighteningly close at one point) that they would wisk me away to IV-infused heaven, even though I wasn't technically (or non-technically) a racer.

So after I saw the TRI for Life-ers, I said my goodbyes and got home ASAP and have been sucking down the water. I am not in the clear just yet, but getting there.

Urine issues aside, I wanted to say this about triathlon - a thought that, when racing, I don't pay much attention to, but as a spectator, I noticed.

The genuis of triathlon is that it is the "Everyman's Sport."

Hear me out.

Any Bob, Sue, or Joe can pull out and dust off their ten speed, find an old pair of goggles, and running shoes, and train for a sprint or Olympic distance race.

You don't need Triple A leagues, years of training, team try-outs, or sponsorship to get out there and do it.

It is the sport where Pros race next to grandmothers, where $8000 bikes make the turnarounds alongside of the Sunday cruisers with baskets.

It is a sport that trains the whole body, and requires signficant mental effort to transition from one discipline to the other. But these are the things that I believe everyone has, even if they have to reach down deep to find it.

It was amazing seeing all the differnt people out there. The Zip wheels sponsor-covered jerseys wizzing by while the mountain bikers in their tee-shirts smiled through their second loop.

I loved it - I felt so proud to be part of this sport that EVERYONE can do, a sport that today, in Chicago, made thousands of people realize their potential.

Realize the endless possibility of their bodies and mind.

Realize that, as they are racing, their children are watching them become the best type of role model there is.

Realize that, no matter your age, or pants size, or race - YOU CAN DO TRIATHLON.

I love being a triathlete.

Even if JLo thinks she is too.

(By the way, I have decided that my issue with the JLo triathlon nonsense is this - While I so appreciate the fact that she is using it as a goal to get back in shape [hey, I JUST said anyone can do this sport, right?], my issue with her began with the whole GMA thing - The self-importance of her to think that her own triathlon expreince is not only CNN newsworthy, but actually MORE IMPORTANT than the possibly-never-to-be-seen again Olympic performances we have all just witnessed. Yeah, first tris are nerve racking and special -no doubt-, but more newsworthy than the beyond-humanness of the Olympics athletes? Yeah, not so much.)

Thursday, August 21, 2008


Everyone uses their blogs for different reasons.


I use mine as a sort of personal journal. I mean, short of the “Dear Diary” greeting, it pretty much stands as an account of my thoughts, be them about training, life, whatever.

And if you have been reading me for a while, you pretty much know when I joke, when I vent, and when I am being dead-ass serious.

And when I write, I speak much like I would speak if I was talking to a girlfriend – off the cuff, sometimes goofy, sometimes crude.

I say things that are funny in my head, even if those words would never leave actually leave my mouth in real life.

For example, I would never say for real, “If shit pop off, somebody going to get laid the fuck out,” like I had stated in a previous post.

But I joke about using that phrase (from a song) to get sort of attitude-y and badass when I train. I wouldn't know how to lay anyone out even if 50 Cent himself was standing next to me with a 40 in one hand, and a 45 in the other.

In real life, I have about as much street cred as my 61-year-old mom.

Sorry mom, but it’s true.

Similarly, when I joked yesterday about “hittin’ it” with a character from a tv show, I would think that most people know enough about me now to know that I would never actually do that.

Aside from casual sex having NEVER been part of my personality, I would never actually “hit it” if given that chance in real life.

You know, it’s funny because, if I was sitting around my sisters, I would have totally joked about that without thinking twice.

But when I first wrote the sentence itself, I thought, “Huh. Maybe that sounds bad.”

But given the comments on a recent post about “telling it like it is” and not censoring myself, I figured, “Hey, people will know this is a joke. I can be goofy about it.”

So imagine my surprise when I was told that making that statement in yesterday’s post was “unbecoming” and made me seem “trashy.”

Apparently making a joke about having fake imaginary sexy times with a fake person is offensive.

Maybe it was offensive because it was sexual in nature (like politics, I rarely touch that topic on here), or maybe because I have a boyfriend so making goofy comments about hittin’ it with a tv character was inappropriate.

So to that end, for being offensive to my boyfriend, I apologize. I expect a certain standard from him, so I need to hold myself to the same one.

But it wasn’t more than two weeks ago when me and Cheese were joking around about which celebrity we would “give a pass” for – meaning, we would let the other sleep with if given the chance. I’d be hard pressed to find a couple (and some that have openly talked abou that on their blogs) that hasn’t had this “inside joke.”

And I call it a joke because it would never happen – and I would hope that even if GIVEN the chance, we would both turn it down. So hence, it was a just a joke.

Lemme ask you this - How many people in the last two weeks have posted pictures of half-naked Michael Phelps and/or have made “inappropriate” comments about him or his pictures?

I used to read the Triscoop threads, and there was this ongoing one about hot male/female triathletes, complete with pictures. Is that offensive?

Taking heat for being “inappropriate” is exactly what I was referring when I said I feel like I have to censor myself. And maybe I being overly defensive, but I honestly thought I was just being goofy.

If you were one of the people that were offended, I don’t know what to tell ya. Use your mouse, and click on another blog.

I almost feel like apologizing for how angry this post sounds, because I know people don't stop by for a dose of daily rage. But I am not going to. Because like I said before, it’s my blog. And this is where I am right now.


I’m O-U-T.

And p.s. I didn’t even get to go to Sonic because I go so caught up in working that I ended up being late for my meeting. No tots for me.

Fucking work - it's ruining everything lately.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

A Day in the Life of My Brain

Don’t Be Fooled by the Rocks
Most of you have seen this already, but I felt this particular story was worth posting.

JLo was on "Good Morning America" yesterday to talk about how she’s training for the 22nd Annual Malibu Triathlon. Some crew on the set of the morning show told MSNBC's The Scoop that JLo just doesn't understand why everyone is talking about "that swimmer" and not about her! The crew went on to say, “She couldn’t come up with (eight-time gold-medal winner Michael) Phelps’ name, and then she yammered on about how she was the one training for a triathlon just six months after giving birth, and how that was the big story right now, not ‘the swimmer.’ ”

The genius of this is that you know the media will be all over this silliness, and in two months we'll be hearing all about how JLo raised social consciousness for the triathlon and is the new ambassador, and blah, blah, blah.

And hey – if triathlon will open its wide forgiving arms to a slow poke lazy bones like me, then by all means JLo, jump in. But be careful – I hear HUGE egos sink in the swim.

And for extra laughs, Google the video of her at the Self Magazine shoot. Trust me on this one.

Chicago (land area) got its first Sonic!

I know – kinda crazy that, for a city that has a McDonald’s every corner not already inhabited by Starbucks, we didn’t have a Sonic.

And to be fair, it’s not really in Chicago – it’s actually in Aurora which is WAY far away from Chicago.

But guess who's got a meeting in Aurora on Thursday?!?!

It’s me, bitches!

I've already got Sonic fairies dancing in my head….

This morning I woke up and, while making myself a third bowl of Raisen Bran, some flakes jumped RIGHT out 'da bowl and onto the floor.

I looked down, shrugged and said, "Eh, I'll get it later...there's enough down there that I won't step on them."

Seven minutes later, I was crunching right across the Bran Flake graveyard.

Aaaaand THAT pretty much summed up the rest of the day.

Put the Mic Down
No matter who it is, or what song they do – I get painfully embarrassed for people that karaoke. Like, I openly cringe. *Shudder*

Does anyone else watch “Generation Kill?” Love it. Have to watch each episode twice just to follow, but am addicted.

And Brad Colbert?

Sure, he can’t act worth shit, but I’d hit that eight ways till next Tuesday.

(awkward pause.....)


What does that even mean?!?!?

Eh, I don’t know.

It just sounded funny in my head.

But yeah, I would.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

TRI for Life

Back in March, I was in Tennessee for my little brother’s wedding. At that time, I had already completed all my testing for the kidney donation. But aside from having made the decision to donate my kidney, I don’t know how much I talked about it then, or really even thought about it – my biggest issues was how to get my six hour brick done that Sunday after flying home, as Ironman loomed on the horizon.

Ha – it was Ironman all the time, at that point.

Back then, it was like, “Okay get through the race, then donate the kidney. A before B.”

It really hasn’t been until recently that I have these moments when I think, “Holy crap – I did that.” Like when I see a tv show about people donating organs. And then I get all teary and emotional and boogery and slobbery and – well, nevermind.

Lemme get back to my story.

The day I arrived in Tennessee, my brother-in-law Nat handed me an article in the USA Today – it was about the three Coleman brothers who had lost their fourth brother, Chase. Chase was an avid cyclist and 20 years old when he was killed after being struck by a car while riding. Following his death, his organs were donated to various individuals. One individual received his heart – this man continues to live and prosper today.

I remember reading the story and having tears in my eyes for the loss these brothers sustained – if I ever lost one of my siblings, it might just be what kills me – I simply could not imagine it.

And even though I was going through my own organ donation issues at the time, I had kept the significance of my own donation at arm’s length – it was simply too much for me to emotionally deal with as I stared down Ironman. So I didn’t fully wrap my mind around the piece of the story where Chase’s brothers have reached out to the organ recipients, and have formed a triathlon club called TRI for Life, in memory of their brother and in support of organ donation. They have made it their mission to compete in all 50 states through triathlon, and raise public consciousness for organ donation while doing it.

I kept the article tucked in my bag, though, and reread it at the airport while waiting for my flight home.

Fast forward to my own donation – while in the hospital, a man commented on my blog – he mentioned that he had an experience with organ donation, and encouraged me to check out his site TRI for Life. His name: Lon Coleman.

Lon is one of the three surviving brothers (from that article) who now races to raise awareness of organ donation. While laying in my bed shortly after my own donation surgery, feeling miserable and sorry for myself, Lon hit me up on Instant Messenger. We chatted for some time, and he told me about all the things that are happening for his team.

It’s amazing all the things these brothers are involved in, including the US Transplant Game this summer.

He mentioned that he would be in Chicago for the Chicago Accenture Tri this weekend, and we talked about maybe crossing paths while he is town. Though I consider myself to be the unofficial ambassador of Chicago (we all know how I do love to be the tour guide!), I unfortunately will be in Rockford all day when they come in on Friday. But hopefully I will get a chance to have dinner with the team the Saturday before the race.

So check out their site and their story if you can. And if you are near or at the race here on Sunday, cheer them on – they are out there racing for second chances at life.

And if that's not something to scream about, I don't know what is.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Explain This - and a Bejing Tri Spoiler

Can someone please help me understand why I had to DIG through the NBC Olympic listings for the triathlon schedule, only to find it BURIED under the USA channel?

The USA Channel?!?!

The only marathons they run are the "Law and Order" ones!

And guess what?

The women's race was THIS MORNING!!!!!

Am I on glue, or does anyone else find it to be backasswards that NBC will televise trampoline and PING PONG over triathlon?

I feel like Bella Karolyi at the All-Around event.

The Injustice!!

*fist in air*

Oh, and in case your wondering, Snowsill won the ladies race.

The men?

Tomorrow morning, on USA, at like 7am.

And fuck - the movies I rented this weekend are two days late.

Six dollars, down the pisser.

I blame China.


Good grief.

Is it seriously Monday already?

After what can only be described as Hell Week last week, I worked all day Saturday in private practice, and then had a 15-miler yesterday.

Needless to say, I was pretty wrecked.

The run? Not so great. But instead of beating myself up over it, I just thought, "Hey, last week the 1/2 marathon was your best, and some days runs just don't come together."

I think it was a mix of the severe lack of sleep all week, poor eating, and then the late start yesterday morning.

The late start put Cheese and I running between the hours of 10 and 1 (HOT) and in the middle of the throngs of humanity on the lakefront from the Air and Water Show (which kicked off at 11). When coupled with all the marathon training groups, regular runners, and families with stroller from all suburbs in Illinois, there was a lot of manuvering.

I didn't eat enough (or my normal) breakfast, and I also had a GU explode (somehow) all over my hand, so I was down some nutrition. We also looped the run, in an effort to avoid North Avenue beach (where people were shoulder-to-shoulder, faces pointed to the sky and certainly not aware of runners), so the normal running route was thrown off.

And I don't know about you, but I am a STICKLER for routine - so if something is off, like my nutrition, it can make for a long day.

And now it's back to work. Ugh. Cheese also left this morning, and the next time he returns, it will be to OUR new apartment. So Moving Day is on the horizon.

I am at the point where, with each day, I tell myself, "Just get through this day/week. Then it will be better." But then at the end of said day/week, I raise my head and still see so much work ahead of me. My motivation is starting to wane - for everything, really.

I feel like, in addition to training for this marathon, I am running this "life" marathon right now.

And this is certainly not a complaint - I mean, it would be worse - I work for the State, so the fact that my program might actually not get cut on this round of budgets negotiations is reason enough to be grateful.

I am just tired.

That is all.

Friday, August 15, 2008

My Head Just Exploded

After falling asleep at 5pm (thank you all-nighter!), I miraculously woke up just in time to flip on the Olympics right as Micheal Phelps was 25 meters away from winning his 7th gold.

I am stunned.

Not just about the medal, but about the race, the man, the swimmer, the machine.

I peed myself.

Back to sleep.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Winners Never Cheat

And cheaters never win.

And if you had a chance to see the women's gymnastics final, then you know what I am talking about.

I don't think I breathed the entire time I watched the all-around compitition.

Fuck all that stuff I said about cheering for China and their 9-year-old asses because I felt bad for them.

I don't feel bad for cheaters.

I wanna punch them in their mosquito-bite boobies.

Maybe four years from now, China can round up a couple of 4-year-olds and try to pass them off to beat the US.

'Cause they didn't beat us this year.


I think I am starting to take these Olympics WAYYY too personally.

But on a postive note:

Now the Olympics are over for these girls, they can get back to trying to be normal teens - hanging with friends, dating, menstruating.

Throw in some teen acne, a training bra, and a pube or two, and it's a brand new world for them!

Ya almost wanna shove a beer in one hand, a tampon in the other, slap 'em on the back and proclaim, "Welcome to the real world!"

And I gotta give credit to Shawn Johnson for staying so poised - talk about the pressure of a country on her shoulders. She looked like she wanted to just sob, but she was so solid.

On a seperate note - how come none of our athletes sing the anthem? Or they look like they try, but they don't know the words.

Just wondering.

Okay, time for more coffee and more work.

P.S. Your guilt worked - Cheese posted.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

From the Mouth of Cheese

"Looks like it's Bring Your Comforter to Work Day." - Cheese, in referrence to a toothless woman sitting at a bus stop wrapped in her bed blanket on a 75 degree night at 10PM.

"Liquor stores make good babysitters." - Cheese, in response to the 12-year-old girl hanging in front of the liquor store at 10PM

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Random Ramblings of a Sleep-Deprived, Ulcer-Ridden Psychologist

1.Is it me, or does watching the Olympics make you want to get off your dead ass and do something, like go to the pool? And I soooo would, but I am too busy watching the Olympics.

2.If someone told me that they would give me Michael Phelps's abs in exchange for me cleaning my toilet bowl and scrubbing the mold out of my shower everyday for the rest of my natural life, I would say, "Implant here."

3. When I am not cheering for the US, I am cheering for China. Mostly because I worry that if those little athletes - especially the gymnasts - don't win, the pressure of their country might cause them to jump off a ledge. And that would just suck.

4. And speaking of those little gymnasts - is China recruiting from the maternity ward at the local hospital? Dang they start 'em young and there is NO WAY some of those girls are 16. My 1 1/2 year old nephew could eat some of them for lunch.

5. Thanks to all the foodie comments, I am ADDICTED to string cheese. My bowels? Not so much.

6. Although I have never cared much about them in the past, I have a sudden fascination with race medals. In fact, I almost lost my shit this weekend when I thought they may have run out of them at the half marathon. Fear not though - I got mine. Hung it right with the others on my T.V.

7. Why does it seem that everyone is on vacation this week except for me?

8. My armpits smell bad lately. Maybe its all the string cheese.

9. Training update? Yeah right. Check back for that later this week - I might find time to pull a three miler out of my ass if I give up - say - breathing at some point.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Two Things

Well, it’s official: Cheese and I signed our lease today.

We are the proud renters of a two bedroom, one bathroom apartment, complete with an actual parking space and separate kitchen. As in, separate from the bedroom/living room/bathroom, AKA my current studio.

It’s kind of a lot to take in right now. But I am not complaining, not at all. In fact, right now, as I sit here working until the wee hours of the morning (again), with Cheese snoring away behind me, butt peeking out from the sheets, and the smell of his feet thick in the air, I can’t help but be excited about this. I mean, things won’t totally change – he’ll still travel all the time, leaving me to fend for my lonesome most weeks of the month. But when he comes home, he will come home to Chicago.

So aside from the big paper signing, life here is stable, albeit is stupid busy again this week. I keep telling myself, “Just get through this week, just this week” but honestly, it’s more like getting through the next two weeks.

I mean, I am at the point where I have to calm myself down just to ask, “Okay, where on Earth do I actually start?” Tonight I am making some headway, and it’s only 1AM. I am hoping to make even more by about 5AM, at which time Cheese will be getting ready to leave (he was just assigned to a south suburb of Chicago so he is actually here for a little while longer!!!) and I will try to workout and go to the office.

Let’s see how that works out.

Ten bucks says I am sneaking into the bed at about 4 o’clock for a quick-nap-turned-four-hours-later-and-I-am-panicking-about-being-late.

It may have happened like that before….

A couple people have lately posted about feeling like they have to censor themselves about the stuff they post - be it 'cause family members/bosses/coworkers have discovered the blog, or maybe they just worry about offending. Or that they have started writing for other people instead of themselves.

I have found myself to be having these issues for a little while now. More and more, I write and then re-write so many posts because I worry about the reaction. The crap that once flew out of my mouth I now sit with, pick apart, examine, and fret over whether or not its safe for human consumption. Moreover, I freak out that readers might get offended if I come off as too bitchy or whatever.

So after a freak out yesterday regarding whether or not people might misinterpret the whole "walkers to the right" post, I have made this decision.

Fuck it.

No matter what, I will alway be at risk of offending. But a lot of times, I also say some really nice stuff too. And if I am lucky, funny shit gets in between the cracks. But when this whole blog started, I was just being me, and I really need to get back to being me.

I'm flawed, sarcastic, politically incorrect, sour, sweet, lazy as hell, driven to extremes, crabby, carefree, sick-of-it-all, and loving-life. I eat too much candy, workout obsessively, and sometimes wear my pjs to the office (okay fine, A LOT of the time). And mostly, I am all of these in one hour.

And maybe it means I say something about babies and elderly that might offend someone's sensitivities. Oh well. As long as I am not running down your granny in my Hundyai, then what's the biggie?

So no more fretting, no more apologies, re-writes or retractions.

Consider yourselves warned.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Half Marathon, Whole Fun

Chicago Distance Classic Half-Marathon?


After a 4AM wake up call, and a start time of 630AM, it was hard to tell what the day might bring. But the day did not fail, and neither did my body.

I will spare you a lengthy race report (I ran, I finished, 2:07, felt fantastic, solid and strong, very proud of my time because I ran smart AND managed not to make doo-doo on myself - no small feat by Mile 11, mind you), but a few details worth mentioning.

It was me, Cheese, Devin and her friend Dave (see picture below). The weather was about 67, partly sunny, and along our BEAUTIFUL lake front. No iPod for distraction, and thank goodness for that - otherwise I may have missed the breathtaking sites of my amazing city as we headed back north after the turnaround.

And it wouldn't be a Megan post without the bitch moment - At about 3.5, we were actually running on southbound Lake Shore Drive in the right hand lane, as cars literally WIZ by us. It was tough and somewhat scary to manuver at times- in fact, this was the first time in a race that I have actually had to devote some time and effort to getting around people. Which is all fine and good (hey, I knew it was a big race when I signed up, so how can I bitch?) but then, in the middle of this chaos, I hear right in front of me, "5-4-3-2-1 - Aaaand we walk!"

Dead stop.

Minor pile up.

Another experience was the 14 Team in Training participants who, on a path that only holds about eight across, were walking seven abreast. It was like driving behind the guy going 35 miles an hour in the left lane on the expressway.

Hey listen, if you are going to rock the run-walk program, by all means have at it. I mean, hell, I even walk sometimes, like through water stations and when I get tired. But if you chose to do so, I implore you to remember that walkers STAY TO THE RIGHT and STAY TWO ABREAST!!!

It's safety. Simply a matter of safety. 'Cause honestly, I'm not winning any of these races, so the slowing down part isn't going to "hurt" me. But dead stopping in front of me - well, that very well could hurt me, not to mention the throngs of people behind me.

After all, the half-marathon is, by definition, a running race, so it goes without saying that most people will be, well, RUNNING. I mean, this should just be common sense at this point - this isn't a race specific thing either - this applies to all conditions. It's just simple running Rules of the Road. ESPECIALLY if you are running with an established team - the team leaders should know this.

Happy place, happy place.


But beside this - an absolutely wonderful morning, and like Alili said in a recent post - I am just grateful to be healthy and able to do this.

So, no actual race pictures because I left my camera in the car. Just pictures of the post-race breakfast binge - the kind where you seriously cannot get the food into your mouth fast enough - thus frightening mere bystanders out for a lovely post-church Sunday meal. Poor souls never even saw the mayham coming....

Yup. Devin's face pretty much sums up the hunger/fatigue aftermath. Poor girl looks like she's about to do a stint in County for Assualt and Battery.
You know who.
From left - Dave, Devin, Cheese, me. We ate at Lou Mitchell's, which is hands-down my favorite place in the city. Cheese looks like he's goosing my sister. Hmmmm..... And speaking of my sister - is it me or does she appear to actually be shrinking? She's always been little, but geesh - she's almost invisible!

Well, maybe not all of us were feeling the fatigue....

I prefer egg white omlettes, but hey - to each his own.


Baby, Table for One. He's like, "Hey! Where'd everyone go? I can't help it if I am not potty trained yet!"

Friday, August 8, 2008

I Hope He Was Joking

Well, seeing as how SOME PEOPLE seem to think its okay to leave comments that point out one's "exhaustion" by the darkness of one's eyes, I thought it would be appropriate to do my into-the-weekend post with a picture of the actual night of the all-nighter, but right before kick off.

You know, BEFORE I looked so exhausted....

Tht night - Monday - Devin (sister) and Patrick (her husband) celebrated their one year wedding anniversery by hosting a dinner at Pete Miller's in Evanston for all the people involved in their wedding. So here I am with the happy couple (Dev's looking like a back-to-school JCrew catalog), my sister Ellen (looking all tall and model-like) and her husband Nat (looking very beach casual), and my mom (looking all mom-ish). I don't need to point out which one I am - just enlarge, and look for the racoon eyes.
Or so I am told....
I don't know about you, but the weather here is PERFECT for a half-marathon, so who am I to object? Hope your weather's just as good - Have an awesome weekend everyone!

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Bear Down

(Before I start this post - I would just like to paint this picture for you - me, trying desperately to start the big email catch-up while laying in bed at 12:57AM, with Cheese laying next to me. He is passed out and wide-mouthed, filling that air around my face with garlic-rosemary breath and ass gas. My two favorite parts? 1) When he snargles and snores, and subsequently expells these REALLY large breaths with his face about five inches from mine. 2) When he surprises me with a silent fart - the ones I can't hear but then the stink hits me out of no where. And you CANNOT even begin to imagine what this smell is like.

He tries to tell me that all boys like the smell of their own farts, but I cannot actually believe that he honestly loves the bowel smells.

I mean, I have to check my own eyebrows to make sure they haven't burned off with some of these bombs.

And in these moments, I find myself looking over at him and his cute freckles and pink lips, sleeping soundly next to me, and remind myself - I love this man.

But gosh, it would be nice to go to bed without having to put a pillow over my face.

Now back to the regularly scheduled programming.... )

"You're blog's been really lacking these days, eh?"

So says my brother, Nolan, today in a phone conversation.

But he's right, and I am sorry. I cannot begin to describe how out of control crazy things have been, and then there's always a bit of a lag when the Big Cheese comes to town (usually a day to get him settled). So now here we are, it's Friday, and this might be the first real post of the week.

But fear not - this weekend is pretty packed with things, including a half-marathon on Sunday - the Chicago Distance Classic - so plan on some pictures to go with it all.

Tonight, after a VERY LONG day - complete with a near-verbal brawl at work between me and the bosses - Cheese and I went to the Bears game. And despite the fact that my family has had season tickets for my entire life, Cheese bought me my FIRST Bears jersey of my life to wear to the game.

Opposing teams - I was so sure Cheese was going to find himself a Chicago-style ass kicking, but he behaved himself (well, that and the usual season drunks behind us didn't show tinight - so potential conflict avoided) . Until the ride home....when some douche bag in a moster truck (need I go further with this story?) started screaming at us on the way home on Lake Shore Drive about the Chiefs sucking.

Now, call me crazy, but whose the jackass when you're screaming "Loser" at the winning team? Isn't that, like, the first rule of heckling - "Make sure your team wins before you start baggin' on the other team?"

I'm just saying...

Me and my Hester 23 jersey.

Cheese from our seats.
And Cheese with me - I have decided that, while I tend to spend more time staring at other people then the actual game, I can still be considered a Bears fan because:
A: I live in Chicago, and so do they. So proximity says I am a fan.
B: I love hot pretzels and they serve them at Soldier Field. Do I need to connect the dots here?
C: Don't question my rationale - Bears fans have a rep for being impulsively aggressive...
Cheese after the Bears pulled ahead in the fourth.
Cheese when the Cheifs answered back and won. And despite the loss, I am still smiling, because I, unlike the poor sap in front of me who was passed out by halftime and ended up throwing up between his legs (lightweight) was not only conscious, but grateful for a lovely evening of bad food and football.
So all in all, it was a fun night even though we lost. But it's preseason so who cares, right?
Tomorrow should be an pretty light day, inlcuding a long overdue and much needed massage in the afternoon. I think we might try to hit a Sox game tomorrow night. And in case there is any question about whther or not I am a Sox fan - see the aformentioned list.
And then pass the mustard.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008


I am entering my final day of work week hell, so in about 48 hours three things will happen:

1. I will actually return some emails that are long overdue - I swear I haven't forgotten, it's just that my life has literally swollowed me up.

2. I will have attended (with pictures) my first Chicago Bears-Kansas City Chiefs game. With the biggest Chief of them all (not counting Erin's CoS). Yes, ya'll - it's Cheese. He's back in town for a few days. Which leads to the third thing...

3. Cheese and I will have secured appropriate housing beginning September 1st.

And so it is.

Short, sweet, but yet not completly uneventful. So hang in there with me folks - this is a minor blip on the radar of life. I will be back with sarcasm a-blazing in just one more day!!!!

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

A Lot of Nothing Really


So I just logged onto Blogger to post, and the homepage pulled up to reveal three baby pictures in the Blogger update section (Blogger employees had kids, I guess).

I swear to Twizzlers, it scared the begeezus out of me - I almost threw up.

One second my eyes are diverted watching TV and waiting for the Dashboard to pull up, the next second my hearts in my throat as I make eye contact with what appear to be three aliens staring at my soul.

Shake it off, shake it off.



Back to self.

So scratch that earlier post - turns out that if you just stay up long enough (i.e. after 2AM) you miraculously find time to post. Okay, so it's more like you start to hallucinate and distract yourself from the real work at hand. And here is what poured out of my overworked noodle:

Sleigh Bells Ring
As heard on a news report at 2:01 AM:

“It’s August 5th, and time to start thinking about those gadgets you’ll want this holiday season.”

And then moments later, to lead into the story: “We’re smack dab in the middle of summer, which makes it the perfect time to start thinking about the Christmas holiday!”


No, it’s most definitely not time to start thinking about it.

You know what it is time for?

It’s time to think about how to squeeze in last minute bbq’s, a final summer sunburn, where to shake out all that beach sand, and how to score that kiss from a summer-long crush before school starts next week. THAT’S what it’s time to think about.

‘Cause by my calculations, Christmas is like, 100 months away right now.

If people in the U.S. are seriously starting Christmas shopping this early, I'm moving to Europe.

Oh but wait - also on the same news report? "More men in Britian are wearing tights."

Okay, so maybe not to the Britian part of Europe.

Kleenex S.T.A.T.
Does anyone else watch “Hopkins?”

Holy Shit Buckets I love this show.

It’s like a real life “ER” if “ER” didn’t blow ass. Last week’s show included a baby that almost died after being shaken (tears forming, throat lump rising) and then a man donating his kidney to save his wife (full blown sobbing, wiping snot with tee-shirt, calling all family members just to say “I love you”).

Like I don’t get enough trauma in my everyday life, it’s like I have to actively seek it out in my leisure time.

But seriously. Watch it.


Denial Ain't Just a River of Lard
Report out today: Most kids' meals at top restaurant chains have way too many calories to be healthy.

It goes on to say that this is contributing to childhood obesity.

Are we JUST NOW finding this out?

First off, why are people constantly surprised that fatty foods make for fatty people?

And second off, why is it a surprise to people that if you feed your kids fried chicken nuggets (or the like), french fries, and soda weekly - or even daily - kids will be fat?

I mean, the chicken in the nuggets doesn’t cancel out the fact that it’s still fried, nor does the vegetable part of a French fry cancel out its inherent evil.

But yet we spend money to conduct studies to tell us that bad foods are bad for us.

And truth be told– I am not perfect (contrary to popular belief), as I too have fallen victim to the heavenly greasiness of comfort foods. In fact, my late teens and early twenty were basically spent climbing out of a daily bucket o’ fries (the hangover recovery variety), so it surprised me none when I had to keep buying bigger pants.

Now, of course I had blips of occasional denial and was convinced that the dryer was making my pants smaller, but in my heart of hearts, I knew it was the routine 3AM Riccobene's deliveries.

And even back then - in all my drinking and pack-a-day smoking habit glory - I knew that I needed to knock off the cinnamon roll and glazed donut diet or I would be doomed to early heart disease and a lot of dateless nights.

But at this point – in the year 2008 - it has to be common sense, right?

Or maybe I am just hanging out in circles that are the anomalies of healthy living.

Good thing this is where all our government money is going – to study things we already know the answer to - ‘cause gosh knows it’s not going to silly little things like real child welfare.

Looking Ahead
So I am putting this out there – I am considering doing an ultra in Chicago in November. It would be about three weeks after my marathon in October, which I figure might not be a bad idea – I could use the marathon as one of my final training runs.

My reluctance comes from my anxiety over potential injury. I mean, I hate setting a goal that my body fails to meet. This has happened twice – once, training for the New Orleans marathon, when I tore my cartilage after the 20 mile training run and dropped out of the race two weeks before; and the second time was when I blew my back out right before IM AZ 07. Both times was pretty devastating.

And moreover, I just don’t want to risk injury period. Screw the race – I can’t deal with a third knee surgery.

But yet….it’s there.

This need to train.

So I ponder…..

Monday, August 4, 2008

Breathing but Barely

Holy crap.

Work is monkey nuts right now - I am about to pull my second all-nighter is as many weeks (gosh, how old am I again? Right - too old to be doing this).

Work is about all I can think about these days, thus my other Megan life is on hold.

Believe it or not, I am actually too busy to even give this an appropriate bitch session right now.

I will try this again tomorrow.


Friday, August 1, 2008

Long Week's Gratitude

This weekend, I am grateful for long runs, having a job, awesome blogger friends, the future and Cheese, belly laughs, my beautiful nephew, the family that raises him, my own mom and the children she raised, and my health.

Have a wonderful weekend!