And I'm Back

I apologize for the lack of posting over the past week or so. Two words: "running" and "television". Also, a real lack of inspirational, post-worthy subject matter...until today at least.

This will be short and completely uninteresting to some (most), but believe it or not, the last book in the Harry Potter series began taking pre-sales Thursday after the announcement that it will be released July 21. As of Friday, it is the No.1 seller on both Amazon.com and Barnes&Noble.com, all this a good 6 months before it will hit store shelves! It is absolutely astounding to me that J.K. Rowling has created a world so intriguing, mysterious and fanciful, yet also so realistic that you feel like you could easily be a part of her world; that millions of people from around the globe are so anxious to get their hands on the final morsel of Harry's life, they are purchasing the book now. I am not at all ashamed to say that I'm a total Harry Potter nerd and while I am looking forward to the last installment of boy-wizard genius, I am also a little sad that this book will be our last opportunity to experience Hogwarts, Quidditch, Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, the Department of Mysteries and the other whimsical elements of the wizarding world...all seemingly effortlessly created by Ms. Rowling. I am planning to read the last book the way that Charlie ate his first Wonka bar...bite by bite (page by page) to draw out the experience as long as I possibly can. A week before the book goes on sale, the Fifth Harry Potter movie, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, will also release...I might explode with magic-joy that week. Grab your butterbeer and Chocolate Frogs and let's celebrate! Wow, I think I've gone too far.

Also, in case you missed it, our own Mr.Potter is all growed up and desperately trying to shed his boy wizard image..or at least show us that he can do more than flick his wand and fly (masterfully!) on a broom. Here are some pics from a photoshoot to promote the play, Equus, in which Daniel Radcliffe will star and allegedly have a full frontal nude scene.

Five reasons I love IKEA

Messy is the new black

I've been meaning to write this post for a while, but with my super-busy life and all, i just haven't had the time. Now, on a cold, rainy, lazy Sunday afternoon, I write to tell you that finally I can be appreciated for what some might call my little "messy problem".

From day one of my existence, I have been a little messy and unorganized...even arriving in this world two weeks late...two weeks! Most pictures from my childhood are of a dirt-covered dress or food-stained face or wrinkled outfit but also a big, shining smile. I've never had a problem with my messiness, in fact, it suits me just fine. Every now and again I get frustrated if I can't find something or when I find the sweater I want to wear balled up in a corner covered in dog hair but for the most part, it's who I am love it or leave it. I learned pretty early on that my way wasn't the "right" way when every time I wanted to do something fun I was either delayed or completely forbidden until I cleaned my room. More often than not, I never made it to my fun activity because cleaning my room went a little like this: refuse to touch a single thing in protest of the fact that i was condemned to my room until it was clean...(2 hours later)...resign to the fact that unless i do something, i'll rot & die in my room, further adding to the mess...pick up random item #1 to put away...stare at said random item for a few minutes trying to figure out the easiest way to get rid of it...sigh...decide to throw it away, easy-peasy...pick up random item #2....stare at said random item for a few minutes...sigh...realize i haven't played/read/reviewed said item in a while...(4 hours later)...decide to throw it away, easy-peasy...and so on. Cleaning my room became a day-long event and I hated every second of it. It was my room after all, why couldn't it look the way I wanted it to? This routine carried on for the first 18 years of my life then it was off to college.

**By the way, can I just pause for a moment to tell you about the most offensively smelling gas I've ever experienced coming out of my dog right now? I know this constitutes an "overshare" but it's truly amazing both in its quantity and dry-heave inducing quality. Sorry but it's so distracting I thought you should know in case you get to the end of the post and nothing makes sense...I'm being gassed here! Now, carry on...**

It's one thing for your family to know exactly how messy you are, it's quite another for the outside world to know. So, I tried really hard to neaten up my life the best I could and it worked for about the first two weeks. I will say I improved a step or two from "disgustingly filthy messy" to "why can't you ever completely close a damn dresser drawer? messy". It became glaringly clear just how messy I was when I moved in with my best friend, BJ, literally the most organized person I have ever met. Growing up the middle child in a military family, her neatness touched every part of her life...her school work, her thoughts, her schedule, her study habits, her wardrobe, her social life...it was, and remains to be, truly astounding. If you've ever done the personality colors, she is 100% gold...I'm about 108% orange. It was pretty hysterical to walk into our dorm room. It was like looking at a before and after picture of a tornado winding its way through a bedroom. On her side, everything had its place, all doors and drawers were closed, shoes were lined nicely in her closet, clothes were hanging in her closet all in one direction and organized by season and right-side out, desk immaculate, neatly decorated with pictures and knick-knacks, bed made. On my side, desk covered with papers, bed unmade, every dresser drawer open and spewing clothes (someone once compared my dresser to a waterfall...as you moved down the dresser from top to bottom, each drawer was opened a little wider with a few more clothes hanging out. I think it was a nice effect!), mountains of clothes everywhere, clothes half-hanging off hangers, clothes hung inside out in every direction possible, books and papers covering my bed...basically, a mess. I think I secretly hoped some of her neatness would rub off on me but somehow I think my messiness just increased.

My husband deals with my untidy lifestyle as best he can and over the years has resigned himself to doing most of the chores. I try to help out but am just so inconsistent...one week I'm on point straightening up, doing laundry, making the bed, etc. then the next two weeks I won't touch a thing so we're worse off than my "good week". Just when I get one room looking good, three others are a complete disaster. The thing is, no matter how hard I try, this really is the way I am and while I have improved a little over the years and learned some tricks to help at least disguise exactly how "bad" i am, what you see is what you get.

So given my mess-history, imagine my surprise and delight when I opened The New York Times on Thursday, December 21 and found "Saying Yes to Mess", an article in the House & Home section. The subtitle read "A movement is afoot to embrace disorder as the detritus of a creative mind. But the effort is a little disorganized." Intrigued and more than a little excited, I read through the article and for the first time in my life, felt okay with being messy versus feeling bad about something that is a large part of who I am. Here are some of my favorite parts of the article:
"An anti-anticlutter movement is afoot , one that says yes to mess and urges you to embrace your disorder. Studies are piling up that show that messy desks are the vivid signatures of people with creative, limber minds (who reap higher salaries than those with neat "office landscapes") and that messy closet owners are probably better parents and nicer and cooler than their tidier counterparts. It's a movement that confirms what you have known, deep down, all along: really neat people are not avatars of the good life; they are humorless and inflexible prigs, and have way too much time on their hands...Total organization is a futile attempt to deny and control the unpredictability of life."

Now, do I think this article is a little harsh on "neatfreaks"? Yes. Do I know super-neat and organized people that are tons of fun and lovers of life? Yes. Do I think this article was written by a dirty, dirty pig of a person that makes herself feel better about her faults by putting everyone else down? Absolutely. But, hey, a girl needs a little positive reinforcement every now and again, right? I am in full support of this new movement and finally feel like a trendsetter! If only this article had been written circa 1989 so I could have had a little more fun growing up. Oh well, I'm sure all that introspection I experienced sitting alone for hours in my room was character building and helped shape me into the strong, independent woman I am today *side-splitting laughter*.

Two things that are particularly funny about this post:
#1 - The reason I am allowing myself "computer time" is because it's my reward for doing laundry and cleaning my room.
#2 - I wanted to include more from the article but I lost the second page. Ha!

(click on the picture to read the captions)

What is the What

I'm not very good at writing book or movie reviews and you're lucky if you even get a "yeah, I liked it" out of me, so bear with me as I clumsily share my praise of Dave Eggers latest novel, What is the What.

Last November I joined a local book club with my best bud, Erin. At the first meeting we attended, we discussed which books we would choose to read in 2007. Someone suggested What is the What and gave a brief synopsis of the book which I found fairly interesting: set in Atlanta, a man recalls his struggles escaping civil war and refugee camps in Sudan. I've always had a strange curiosity with Africa as a whole...once my sophomore year in college I found a tiny article on cnn.com about Sierra Leone and 4 hours later, after jumping from article to article, was numb with the horrors upon horrors recounted in the stories. I've read a little more here and there about the struggles throughout Africa and seen Hotel Rwanda and Blood Diamond which further seek to explain and tell the story of the complicated, helpless, hopeless, tragic issues throughout parts of Africa and it makes me want to drop everything and help. For now, I live vicariously through my friend Courtney who works for USAID in Zambia, educating the local community about AIDS prevention. I am learning more and more about Coke's water initiatives in small villages throughout Africa and our focus on the important role women play in the development of of the continent and would like to think that one day I may have an opportunity to help with some of these projects. So, based on this interest I already have and the fact that I really enjoyed reading A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius (another Eggers work), I was very excited about reading the book.

At first, I was a little confused about the novel...it's actually a biography or memoir of Valentino Achak Deng told through the author, Dave Eggars. It is written as a novel because some of the characters are fictionalized as are some of the events and parts of the story are in a different order than what Achak experienced, so were rearranged to flow a little better for the reader and further impact the story. So, although it is a bit unclear where the truth ends and the embellishments begin, I wholeheartedly believe that even if all the sad, sick, scary, unimaginably horrific events didn't 100% happen to Achak, they were experienced by other boys and worthy of including in the novel so we are all given a clear understanding of the plight of the Lost Boys, the name given to the thousands of Sudanese boys orphaned during the civil war.

What I enjoyed most about the book, although "enjoy" isn't the right word here as most of Achak's story is so dishearteningly sad it makes you ill, was getting a much better understanding of the history of Sudan. Especially within the last couple of years as more and more celebrities and organizations are bringing attention to Darfur, we get kind of a high level overview of what is going on and a little bit of why it happened but hearing Achak's story, you get a deep understanding of the situation and the affects it has had on the Sudanese. I cannot fathom living in a place where you can trust no one and you are a part of nothing and there is nowhere to turn for help or safety. Your own people will kill you just as quickly and brutally as the "enemy". You follow Achak's life from around the age of 7 when the murahaleen (Muslims from Northern Sudan) attacked his village, through his late 20's when he has finally traveled to the safety of the US where he continues to experience struggles and loss and discouragement at every turn. You begin to understand that even when the Lost Boys were able to escape their helpless situation in Africa, they were then shipped off to a new country where everything (ice, glass windows, mattresses, tampons, etc) was completely foreign and they were expected to find work and go to school and send money to those they left behind in Africa. It's not everyday you are able to read an amazing story of struggle and survival while learning about the significant historical events that have led to a country's current state.

Read the book, or at least visit www.valentinoachakdeng.com to read more about Achak and his village in Sudan, Marial Bai, and to learn more about the struggles that continue in southern Sudan.

Zachary,

A strange thing happened last night when I sat down to have a little tiny bite of your ice cream. As soon as the cold, creamy goodness hit my mouth, I totally blacked out. The next thing I remember was waking up to find that all the ice cream was gone and I had a spoon in my hand and ice cream residue around my mouth. I have no recollection of polishing off the cinnamon and chocolate heaven-in-a-bowl and have decided the only possible explanation is that Charles ate it all then totally framed me to look like I did it. He must have knocked me out cold somehow or slipped something into my drink so I wouldn't be able to recall his dirty work. However it happened, I just want to tell you that I am so sorry it is gone and I feel really horrible about it. It wouldn't be so bad if I could just go to the store and buy a new half gallon to replace it but yours was one of a kind!!! Please accept my apology (for Charles).

I have a problem.

Pigs go to heaven

Made the mistake of cruising on over to cuteoverload.com and found these. I'm in love.

Goats go to hell

Sunday was Zach's birthday and what better way to celebrate his 30th year than to eat all day long? We kicked off the festivities at Alon's with blueberry muffins, apple bran muffins and a delicious ginger scone and I'm pretty sure we somehow ripped the place off because we walked out with all the aforementioned food as well as three large cups of piping hot coffee for only $8. After what felt like 5 minutes it was off to lunch on Buford Highway where I had my first ever BBQ'd goat sandwich. It was pretty tasty but after trying Charles' spicylicious chorizo sandwich mine was a little less yummy and then when I chomped down on a bone I had had enough. Luckily, not finishing my entire sandwich left just enough space in my belly for a small cup of Coldstone cheesecake, oreo and graham cracker ice cream. After a much-needed food pause to watch the awe-inspiring cinematic genius of Point Break, we headed to The Globe for dinner. I hesitantly ordered Tandoori Duck with yogurt sauce and dried fruit salad and was blown away by the deliciousness of the meal...one of the best I have had in a very long time. Three desserts and a cup of coffee later, we rolled ourselves home and finished the day with yet another movie masterpiece: Teen Wolf. Sometime during the night the goat and the duck started either breakdancing or kickboxing in my stomach. I woke up wondering if a goat and a duck were to get in a fight, who would lose? Then about 5 seconds later after just a whiff of coffee...it didn't even pass my lips...i was headed to the bathroom where i learned that when a goat and a duck get in a fight in your stomach, you're the loser.

The reason this post is a day late is because...drumroll please...I was busy painting my kitchen!!! Woo hoo! It's almost done and looks beautiful! For all my "friends" that were in the kitchen painting pool, if you chose January 15th and Copper (or maybe Cinnamon?), you won! Even though the color is fairly dark, I think the room actually looks a bit bigger as the tile on the floor stands out more and makes it look wider. The color also compliments the angel picture in our dining room quite nicely. Overall, I'm very pleased. The wait was totally worth the countless samples, trips to the paint store and taunting I've received for my indecisiveness. Thank you Mandy for the pillow inspiration, walking me through the rainbow and accompanying me to the paint store. I love it!

One-way ticket out of Cubeville

That's right, friends...I am moving up in the Corporate world! For the first time in my career, I will be moving into an office! I'll have a door and cabinets and multiple options for where I put my computer and the gem of all office gems: a dry-erase WALL. Oh yeah, I said it. Not just a little white board to put a few to-do's, I get an entire wall to satisfy all my dry erase marker-sniffing desires. I've already thought about standing in various poses in front of it and having people draw my outline (although I might freak-out when I see what an outline of my thigh/ass area looks like). Or maybe I could make a gigantic crossword puzzle and when people visit my office they can fill-in a word. Oh the possibilities! I'm also very excited about having a door. Now, instead of crawling under my desk feigning a tummy ache in order to nap, I will simply close my door leading everyone to believe I am in a super-confidential, super-important meeting when instead I will, in fact, be sleeping soundly in my spacious new digs.

The only downfall is still no window. But who needs sunlight and blue skies anyway? I hear that's totally overrated. I was going to write an entire section on how I wish I could work in the Department of Mysteries so I could conjure me up a window and choose what weather I wanted to see out of it each day, but I would hate for you to think I was into all that boy wizard crap. Who reads that anyway?

So yeah, you're now friends with an office occupant so you better watch out...I'm pretty sure that means I am better than all you cubicle-dwellers. Sorry but it's true.

New Years Pics

I think it's always better to see the action versus just read about it, so here are a few photos from the New Year's weekend. Enjoy!

the shot-ski in action

erin has a nice booty, yeah?

family photo before heading home

sweet, quiet boys...so calm, so sleepy, so sweet

"yar! we're the loudest boys that ever walked the earth and will keep you awake for hours and make you sleep in cars! party on!"

my favorite spot in the house

once a cheerleader, always a cheerleader. go generals!

another year, another vodka tonic headache

i must say, i am really, really sad to see 2006 go. i don't know why but as the end of the year came to a screaming halt sunday night i wanted to fight with all my might to keep it going and not start the new year. i have no desire for a clean slate or a fresh start or resolutions or new beginnings. blech. i like the way my 2006 was going, thank you very much. i don't know what my problem is but the idea of starting yet another year has made me really tired this time around. what i really want is for time to stop going by so quickly. i remember the first time i wanted to dig my heels in to slow things down (think fred flintstone bringing his car to a halt) was on my 21st birthday. is that sad? i remember thinking "okay, no reason to get any older...i have reached all the age milestones i want to reach". i don't feel the same way anymore. i don't mind the getting older part, it's more the responsibilities that come with getting older. i'm not sure how this post morphed into a complaint about aging so i'll stop now. just know that no, i will not be making any resolutions. are you kidding? i can't even stick to the week-long teeth whitening strip regimen. however, and note the following are not resolutions, i will continue to count my blessings, try to find joy in the little things (like ice cream and my spankin' new running cd and the excitement i feel when i discover a little gasoline dripped on my finger when i re-fueled), talk about painting my kitchen, read, read, read, love my husband as best i can, love my family as best i can and love my friends as best as i can. i will continue to consider any given day a success if 1) i accomplished something that day, and 2) i found enjoyment in something that day.

now, on to the good stuff. the annual new year's festivities continued this year in a brand new, undiscovered hot spot of the south called pigeon forge, tennessee. ever heard of it? okay, not so undiscovered as we were joined by about 37 million of our closest redneck buddies, but we sure did have a grand 'ole time at a beautiful cabin we rented nearby. chock full of beds, wood, blankets, wood, pool table, wood, hot tub, wood, air hockey, big screen tv, playstations and wood, it was a twenty-something's paradise. the shot-ski made an appearance on several occasions but unfortunately returned home severely injured and will need to be repaired before next year. after too many vodka tonics on night #1 of 4, i decided to first play knuckle air hockey and then later elbow air hockey, both leaving me bleeding, scabbed and bruised for the remainder of the trip. and, of course, it wouldn't be new year's if we didn't have a picture of someones balls. i am proud to say that for the last two years i have made it through the drink-fest without throwing up which is a big accomplishment for me after the pink-meat disaster of New Years '04 in atlanta and then puking in the grass out back and having the neighbors suggest someone take me to the hospital at New Years '05 in st.simon's. ah, the memories. i promise to post some pics from the trip soon but as i refused to take any pictures this year after being physically attacked for my picture-taking at a certain group event this year (i just can't work like that!), i have to rely on my friends to send the pics before i can post them. i ended up taking one pic from the car on the way to the cabin as we sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic in smoky mountain national park. enjoy and may you all have a prosperous new year.

And the Snow Falls Down in Denver

Of course there wasn't even an intsy tinsy wintsy bintsy bit of snow this past weekend while we were in Denver and I complained about it a lot. Now, apparently the snow started falling and it hasn't stopped...the last we heard Golden (where we spent our time on Monday) was at 34.5" - that's 2.875 feet! Here are some pictures we took Monday of our friend Ann's house, the house we stayed at over the weekend, and then what it looks like now.

Ann's house on Monday...

Ann's house yesterday...

Not a typical site on the streets of Englewood (or Compton or Long Beach)

Angel Ann

Harry Potter and the...

If you're not a Harry Potter fan, move on as this will not interest you in the slightest.

Fans...if you would like to find out the name of the 7th and final Harry Potter book due out this summer, follow these steps. I am assuming this is true as it can be found on J.K. Rowling's official website but you just never know so I won't believe it (entirely) until I have book in hand, but it's fun anyway. Enjoy!

Go to JKRowling.com

1. Select the entrance with the British flag.


2. Click on the eraser on her desk.


3. Click the knob on the open door in the mirror to see the Christmas tree.


4. Click on the top half of the main door to see a wreath.


5. Click on the top half of the mirror to reveal garland.


6. They will all go away if you click the spider web next to the mirror.


7. Going from left to right, click on the 4th chime in the window. It turns into the key for the door.


8. Drag the key to the door knob to unlock the door.


9. The door opens to reveal a package.


10. When you click the bow, the package will open.


11. Inside is a game of Hangman you can play to guess the title of Book 7!

Or, apparently you can just visit mugglenet.com and they come right out and tell you but what's the fun in that?

Happiness Factory

If I could ensure this is what is actually happening inside my 16th floor High Powered Vending Machine, I might be able to forgive someone for the powerful nature of the bottle release.

The Office: Terror Around Every Corner

Why not just put myself totally out there and let you all know how much of a freak I truly am…in case you didn’t already know. I have a couple of completely irrational and embarrassing fears around my office that I think it’s time to share in the hopes that sharing will lead to healing, or something like that. So, here goes…please, no making fun as this is 100% serious business.

Irrational Office Fear #1 – The Double-Sized Revolving Doors
Every single day I have to face this fear as I walk into my building to start my grueling day at the office. Am I greeted with sunshine, coffee and a smile? Nope. Instead, I’m greeted with the glass-and-steel, steam-rolling death trap daring me to walk into it’s oxygen sucking hell sections that will jostle me around until it’s ready to spit me out into the building where it will then sit and wait until I’m ready to head home so it can torment me once more before I leave. I hate it. Hate it! So maybe I’m exaggerating a bit but the thing truly frightens me on a daily basis. My fear comes into play when there is a line of people ready to go in or out of the doors. See, these special doors ‘o death are double (maybe even triple?!?) sized so that more than one person can fit into each section bringing more people into and out of the building at a time. Nice thought, eh? Oh, and did I mention it’s also automatic?!? Well, I think this particular door can smell my fear and somehow conspires with my fellow co-workers to make sure I am ALWAYS the second person to walk into the door. Being the second person in a revolving door section is terrifying! You’re totally at the mercy of the person in front of you that they will walk at the appropriate pace and, god willing, walk close enough to the front of the section so you have room to walk “comfortably” behind them. Chances are you’re most likely behind some inconsiderate, fearless a-hole that takes their sweet time causing you to shuffle your feet, snuggle up to their backside and look over your shoulder every half second to make sure you’re not about to be plowed by the glass door. What if the bottom of the door catches your pant leg and drags you down to the ground and you get flattened? Or, your pant leg gets trapped locking up the entire revolving mechanism and you get trapped waiting for help and suffocate to death while everyone watches because the whole thing is made out of glass? Agh! So, that takes care of the first portion of the “ride” where my life flashes before my eyes…now, on to what I like to call the “dismount”. After you’ve “safely” made it through the rotation and it’s time to finally get out of the glass torture chamber, guess what’s next? Oh yeah…clearing the door before it catches your ankle and traps you again. Or, maybe you don’t even get your body completely out and it slices you in half? Luckily I have devised a special skip-and-hop move I have perfected over the past year or so that successfully launches me out into the safety of the building without the door devouring one of my precious limbs, or the precious left side of my body. Thank god I was a gymnast. One time I made the mistake of walking through the door while talking on my cell phone, got totally disoriented and ended up smacking right into the glass because I tried to get out before the section opened to the outside. Then, panicked, I had to re-orient myself in time to get out safely, all the while my co-workers are looking on laughing. If they only knew my fear I think they would be a little more compassionate.

Gonna stop hanging out with me yet?

Irrational Office Fear #2 – The16th Floor High Powered Vending Machine
After the trauma of the revolving door, I am typically a little parched when I finally make it up to my office so I innocently head on over to the vending machine for an ice-cold Dasani. Easy, right? Nope. Again, something so simple and harmless-looking ends up bringing fear to my already tortured day. I’ve actually thought about this fear a lot and come to the conclusion that I am not afraid of all vending machines, just this one. Because I work where I do, we don’t have your regular, run-of-the-mill vending machine. We have several different kinds including a really cool one that you can see grab the drink you choose, run it down the little conveyor belt and then drop it in the hole. If only the 16th Floor had this kind of vending machine. *Sigh* Instead, we have the most violent machine created that sends your beverage careening down the chute at lightening speed with the hopes of chopping your hand off. I swear there is something comparable to a torpedo launcher that shoots your drink out. This wouldn’t be much of a problem if I wasn’t such an impatient person and liked to try and time my reach so that my hand is able to grasp my drink as soon as it falls. Hmm…lightning fast torpedo beverage + sweet beautiful soft delicate hand = major injuries & potential lifelong scarring. I have yet to find a special move to protect me from the machine other than distracting myself as much as possible so I’m late with my grab. Total panic ensues when for some reason the evil machine decides to spit two drinks out for no reason. So, even though I was nice and patient and waited until my drink was all the way at the bottom before grabbing, it shoots another one out at me just to keep me on my toes. What have I done to deserve this treatment??

I won’t go any further today but believe me, there are others. Electronic staplers (think jack-in-the-box), paper shredders, electronic hole punches, elevators, ESCALATORS (“Listen, not a year goes by, not a year, that I don't hear about some escalator accident involving some bastard kid which could have easily been avoided had some parent - I don't care which one - but some parent conditioned him to fear and respect that escalator.”)…the list goes on and on.

To make me feel a little better about myself, please feel free to share your work-related fears. As I said above, sharing leads to healing…or something like that.

5 miles at 5,280ft is h-a-r-d

This will be quick. A few photos of our whirlwind weekend in Denver. And, random thoughts on our time there...

• it's cold, really cold and when it's cold and there isn't even any snow to show for how flippin' cold it is, you might get a little pissy and whiny
• it's brown, really brown and when it's brown and there isn't any snow to cover up the brownness you have a hard time remembering why the heck you thought it was such a beautiful place to live
• then you look west and you suddenly remember why when you see a wall of smiling mountains begging you to come play with them
• if i could have taken one thing with me to atlanta, aside from the mountain wall, it would have been washington park where charles and i used to run everyday (read: every once in a while). i remembered every corner, tree, "hill", house and pond around the park. it was like i had never left and have never ran anywhere besides there since i left. i especially liked seeing the tree charles used to stand at waiting for me to finish and cheering me on because he ALWAYS finished before i did.
• running a mile above sea level sucks. it took every ounce of strength i had in my body to ignore my screaming lungs, pounding heart, streaming eyes and nose, and stinging cheeks, fingers, nose, chin and forehead and continue with my 5 miler on saturday. when i finished i could barely talk.
• having good friends in another city is awesome...we had a lovely home to stay in, plans every night (thanks to a few serious planners), free ski tickets, yummy breakfasts, cozy fires and mulled cider. not to mention great conversation and lots and lots of catching up.
• it's really strange to visit a place that used to be your home. i've never had that experience before. when we lived in denver and would fly back to visit atlanta, it never felt weird because i still considered it home and knew that i would be back eventually. it would be a little odd to drive on a familiar road and see a brand new subdivision or new gas station, but it still always felt like home versus feeling like a tourist in what once was my home. that's how denver felt. it was strange to drive around, not knowing exactly how to get somewhere and then all of a sudden your mind clicks into gear and leads you exactly where you need to go. everything just came flooding back - where the closest Target is, what's the short cut to get to the interstate, that there's a Noodles on every corner (as there should be everywhere). driving up to the mountains to snowboard felt just like driving up to snowboard any of the other thousand times i did it while i lived there. i remember my first time heading west on I-70 in high school with mouth agape and eyes wide open soaking up every detail of the drive. now, it's so familiar and a little ordinary.
• i miss my old co-workers. within 5 minutes of being at my old office i was watching dick in a box on someones computer and chatting with my old boss and co-workers about smashing boobs against a glass shower door. needless to say, that behavior is a bit frowned upon at the big behemoth.
• i think moving back to atlanta was the right thing to do. i remember leaving denver and thinking that perhaps we had made a huge mistake by deciding to leave. looking back on the decision and seeing where we are now and who we're surrounded by and what we have, i think we made the right choice and, even though we miss our friends/mountains/park/(non-existent) snow, atlanta is the place for us...right now at least.
• thank god, i still know how to snowboard
• drama abounds...when you think your group of friends is too wrapped up in stupid, insignificant drama, chances are so are everyone else's group of friends. it was fascinating to listen to all the crap that has gone on with our denver friends since we left and made me realize that the petty stuff that goes on here is completely normal and maybe even less frequent and less severe than what others are dealing with.
• sometimes it's worth the fear of a potentially awkward situation if it means you can repair a relationship with good friends

and now, pics! enjoy!

Maybe this is what ice cream's baby looks like?

I found a t-shirt quote once that made me laugh out loud and want to order the shirt immediately..."I'm not fat, I'm pregnant with Ice Cream's Baby". I know we've been taught that mead or ambrosia was the nectar of the gods but i think it was actually ice cream. Inspired by Zach's pic of the day, I headed to Cute Overload and found this little guy...apparently equally appreciative of the frozen dairy crack (two crack references in one day doesn't mean i have a problem, ok?).

I would like to think this is what i look like after diving into a pint of Cookies 'n Cream Cyclone.

Calling all Chefs - Gold Medals & Pez at Stake!!!

You may be shocked to know this about me, but I happen to be the reigning champion of the annual 16th Floor Pot Luck Luncheon at the office. Believe it or not, my dish from last year beat out about 30 others, including desserts, and won "Best Tasting" -- the most prestigious of the three awards handed out by none other than my boss' boss' boss' boss, the other two being "most festive presentation" and "most creative/unique". What was the dish? Elin's award-winning (I added this part after my big win last year) Heart Attack Cheese Dip. It happens to be one of the easiest recipes I've ever had to follow and has all of like 5 ingredients but it tastes SO good you can't stop eating it. Those that have had it know what I'm talking about. Maybe it's that dash of crack you add at the end?

Anyhow, being that last year was my first time ever entering the contest and I won the whole thing, my co-workers will have high expectations for my dish this year. I am supposed to bring an appetizer again and am looking to all of my 3-5 readers to please let me know what recipes you have that could help me bring home the gold again. Nothing too fancy or difficult, just something that tastes damn good. Last year my big winnings were a plastic gold medal hanging on a red, white and blue ribbon (it still hangs in my office) and a Santa pez dispenser. We're talking big time prizes here...Coke folks don't mess around.

Thanks in advance for your help with this and I'll be sure to post the results of my dish Thursday evening.

Needing a good, swift kick in the arse!

It's funny to read my post from just last week about how well i'm sticking to my training and i'm even ahead of the schedule a bit, blah, blah, blah. Here i sit, a full week and a day from my last run. That's about 10-13 miles or so of running that I have missed. As I am beginning to feel a little discouraged and unsure of how to fit it all in, any words of encouragement or wisdom you could send my way would be greatly appreciated. I think it will feel good to do another group run this Saturday as I have genuinely enjoyed the last two. Oh yeah, and maybe it's about time I sent out my fundraising website address and fundraising letters so I can start chipping away at that $1700 I have to raise...yikes!

On a more positive note, I think I may have FINALLY found the paint color I have been looking for for my dining room. I found it while visiting a friend of a friend in Dallas yesterday. This weekend, I will be on the hunt for Sherwin Williams color SW6388 Golden Fleece 11/02. And, somehow in all the madness of the past week I was able to find the time to purchase and decorate my Christmas Tree (apparently Christmas is of more importance than helping fund leukemia & lymphoma research...maybe i need to rethink my priorities a bit). It's beautiful! Somehow among the picked-through, wonky-style Christmas trees that were left in the Lowe's tree lot, I was able to find a perfectly symmetrical gem. If anyone would like to come by, sip a cup of wassil (or wassail? i found both spellings...maybe "yummy christmas drink goodness" would be a better name?), stare at my tree and maybe play a round of Boggle or two, I would be totally game!

I'll never wash my shoulder again *sigh*

So, there was definitely moisture in my eyes Saturday night watching Jeremy Enigk but I don’t know if it was from tears or from the fact that I was having an extremely difficult time remembering to blink. The set – 17 songs long. About an hour and forty-five minutes of sheer genius.

This was the third time I have seen him play…once with Sunny Day Real Estate, once with the Fire Theft and then this time, solo plus band. I distinctly remember at the SDRE show six years ago not being able to take my eyes of Dan Hoerner, the guitarist. He literally played the entire set with the biggest, goofiest grin on his face and looked like he was genuinely having the time of his life on stage – that’s what I remember most about that show. To be honest, I don’t remember much about The Fire Theft show aside from several people in the crowd yelling out Nate Mendel’s name every now and again, I guess in appreciation of his taking time out of the Foo Fighters gig to join The Fire Theft on tour. What I can’t remember about either show, for some reason or another, is what Jeremy was like. What I thought I remembered was a fairly quiet, serious guy who didn’t address the crowd much, instead focusing on playing an amazing set.

What I saw Saturday night was an animated, goofy guy that gave thanks & expressed his gratitude to the audience between each and every song. Did I mention there were 17 of them? There were. He smiled, he laughed, he joked and even danced a little jig. He thrashed around the stage, banged hard on his piano, strummed even harder on his guitar and gave every ounce of his heart, soul and energy into making sure the experience was everything he and every person in the audience wanted it to be. He had to take several long pauses after the more energetic songs so he could catch his breath before launching into another mind-blowing piece. At one point I thought for sure both the keyboard and drum set were going to burst into flames and that the drummer's head was going to explode. Charles and I were both all smiles and the rest of the crowd was equally awed and very respectful and appreciative…not sure if Jeremy draws that out of people, if his fans are different from some other bands I’ve seen lately or if my recent experiences are more geographically related (meaning there weren’t any rednecks yelling “freebird!!! Woo hoo!!”).

The collective sound of the band was impeccable…all the instruments and vocals were at just the right mix to produce a beautifully loud (as opposed to ear-numbingly loud), complex, ear-smiling sound. Oh, and his voice? Perfect. Strong. Loud. Pure goodness. There have been one or two other times in my life where I have been to a concert and was able to completely lose myself in the music…the SDRE show was the first and it happened again Saturday night. You know what I mean? Where you close your eyes at some point and when you open them again time has elapsed but you’re not quite sure how much and you really don’t care. Your body continues to sway and your head continues to bob but your mind is somewhere else.

The venue, North Star Bar in Philadelphia, was the perfect size. As Keeva described it for us earlier in the day, it was a little larger than 10 High in Atlanta with a stage setup like Tasty World in Athens. We were standing right in front of the middle of the stage and just about eye-level with the band as we were in the very front of the second level, just a few steps up from the main floor.

Sorry to ramble – I could go on as I didn’t even touch on the fact that both Charles and I brushed up against Jeremy’s shoulder and shared drinks right next to him at the bar, but this is wordy enough.

Needless to say, this was the best show of my life, and I have seen a lot of really, really great shows. It was definitely worth making the trip up to Philly (I’ll post more about our time in the city later) and far surpassed all my expectations. Thank you, Charles, for everything!

ps...if you've been wondering whether or not Santa would be headed your way for Christmas, I saw him & mrs.claus at Hartsfield on Monday so he must have been scoping out atlanta's naughty & nice. He's a little shorter in person than i thought he would be but he definitely had the "bowl full of jelly" thing going on. Wish i could've snapped a pic!

Kickin' Ass & Takin' Names

AHEAD OF THE GAME!!!! Yeah-hooo!!!!!!!

Marathon, shmarathon...I got this thing in the bag. I'll see your 3 miles on Wednesday and raise you 2, thank you very much. Oh, and do it with 2, count 'em T-W-O, ironman triathletes.