Early last spring I was in the best shape of my life. It was kind of awesome. I looked good, I felt good, I performed well, and I almost broke an 8 minute 2k (which isn’t that impressive, but I’m 5’4″). The thing is though, that you can’t just coast on being in the best shape of your life- you have to maintain it, and I didn’t. I got fed up at the end of my spring season, and then I hurt my knee running a race I wasn’t prepared for (rowing 2k’s doesn’t really prep you for running half marathons), and then I just…stopped. I lost steam, and I moved back home, and while I go to the gym sometimes, it isn’t enough to maintain anything like the level of fitness I used to have. I want to get back there. I’ve been thinking about it, and I miss my strong, sexy, badass legs. I want to get back to where I was. I want to run a half marathon that I’ve actually trained for. Heck, I want to do a tri. And that means lots of hard work. Lots and lots. I like to think back on training, and remember how great it was when I was too sore to get up on my only-slightly lofted bed, but that’s because it’s in the past. When you’re living it, being sore sucks. It hurts. I did a ZWOD workout last night, and it was brutal. Pistol squats are my new least favorite things in the world. It was a gorgeous day today, so after class I decided to run home. No big deal, I’ve done it before, but not in awhile, and yikes. Running is painful. And it makes my feet ugly. My knee started hurting about halfway home, but I pushed through. I told myself “just until the JCC”, “just until the church”, “just until the corner”, and I made it all the way home on that. Of course, now my knee hurts, and I have to hobble around, but it’ll go away. It isn’t injury-hurting, just something I have to live with, and it should actually go away as I get back into running and my body stops objecting so much. I’ll get abs and it’ll see, and remember how nice they are, and get on board, but for now it isn’t fun. It’s worth it though.
Talking about your pets is like talking about your dreams (something I’ve also been known to do)- it’s fun, but boring to listen to. Unless your animals do something that is actually interesting, like dial 9-1-1 when your house is on fire, or learn to play guitar, most people don’t care enough to hear about them. I’m just as bored as the next person by pet stories, but that isn’t going to stop me from writing about my cat’s adorable antics.
My cat (and I think cats in general), is obsessed with water. She used to drink out of the sink, but because my mom decided that was too wasteful, we aren’t allowed to turn it on for her anymore. Instead, she got her a little kittie fountain, figuring it would provide her with the running water she loves, without letting the faucet run, which wastes a bunch of water. In theory, it should have worked, but instead, the cats just use the fountain for washing their feet. It probably feels nice, being able to get the cat litter off, but it makes the water pretty gross, and so Lancaster (my cat) is always on the look-out for a better way to get a drink. I thought a good solution would be to secretly let her drink from the sink when my mom isn’t around, but Lancaster has actually internalized the idea that she isn’t allowed to do that anymore. She’ll sit on the edge of the sink, staring at the water, but she won’t drink it, and then she’ll jump down to the floor and drink from the very top of the cat fountain, to avoid the sediment that collects at the base. (It’s like elementary school, when the water fountains barely worked, and you had to put your mouth right at the spigot, and some people put their mouths on it, grossly, making you really wonder whether you were so thirsty that it was worth drinking after them.) At night though, a new option presents itself, and Lancaster quickly learned that it is in her best interest to be in my room when I get ready for bed. About a month ago, I got a humidifier, and Lancaster is slightly obsessed with it. She knows there’s water inside, and I’ve walked in on her trying to shove her head into the opening at random times throughout the day. She can’t quite reach though, so instead she waits until I fill it up at night, and then she makes her move.
I just had a fancy schmancy dinner with my mom’s clients, and now I’m full and sleepy (I can seriously have about 1/7 of a glass of wine before wanting to pass out. It’s not ideal). BUT I took pictures. I hesitated at first, since it was a swanky place, and I was with people I don’t know, but the waiter said people do it all the time, so then I felt comfortable whipping out the camera phone.
Hey! It’s me, playing the mandolin!
My mom hates Tarantino movies, but my dad and I love them, so because she got to spend the weekend in Florida we decided it was only fair that we watch some violence. I don’t actually like movie violence, but I love his stuff (Pulp Fiction is legit one of my favorite movies), and my dad (Bill) had never seen Kill Bill Volume I or II. It was fun to share something good with my dad, since he usually hates my taste, and he mostly seemed to enjoy these, when he wasn’t being too film professor-y and pretentious. I don’t know what it is about Kill Bill that’s so good, but they’re excellent movies. The cast is amazing, and the soundtrack kicks ass, and the dialogue. It’s the kind of movie that makes being an international assassin sound like a great career choice, and that’s usually a tough sell. It also makes having a way older boyfriend seem like more fun than it probably is, despite the whole murder thing. Or because of it! I have a short list of way older men who make me think May/December romances could be a good idea, but I think you’d have to be at a different point in your life than I am now. It would be hard to date a super old guy while planking around, living at home.
So here we have it! My Sexy Old Men List! And of course, since he inspired it, Bill, a.k.a. Snake Charmer, tops the list. Dangerous, a comic book fan, good dad, and capable of making awesome speeches about love, he is the whole package.
Ah, the pre-David Tennant Doctor Who. He’s a little young to make the list, but he’s much older than me, so it counts. I know I’m in the minority, but I always liked him more than David Tennant. He’s all brave, and funny, and kind of a jerk (which is something of theme with this list, and makes a big age difference look even more Daddy issues-y).
Of course George Clooney makes the list! He’s been the hot old guy for years! I don’t have a specific role of his in mind, which I guess makes him the only non-fictional character on my Hot and Old List.
And last, but certainly not least, Doctor Tom, from Being Erica, totally. He was always quoting, and going back in time, and being dreamy. He had a great office that was full of books, and antiques, and cool knick knacks, and I could totally imagine hanging out there, sitting in one of his leather armchairs and reading while he worked. He’s also the second time-traveller on the list, which is a funny coincidence.
What do you think of big age differences? Do you have any May/December crushes?
I have stupid eyes. They’re dry, and I pretty much can’t wear contacts anymore. SO I am looking into laser eye surgery, and today I had my consultation. It went pretty well actually, and I’m really hoping things move forward with this. I’ve been wearing glasses since…fifth grade? Yeah, that sounds right. And that’s a long time! It would be so cool to not have to worry about glasses, and contacts (I shouldn’t wear them, but I sometimes do anyway. Is is at all surprising that I have eye issues?), and just wake up in the morning and see. That would be so great! AND the laser tech who did my exam went to my high school, which is nice, but not the cool part. The cool part was that she was the younger sister of my big, giant middle school crush! He was so dreamy. He was a baseball star, and did the morning announcements, and I wrote his name all over my notebooks. What can I say? It was middle school. So that was a nice chance to reminisce. And let me tell you, hotness runs in their family. Mmm…pretty laser eye girl.
I hit a wall today. It’s too early in the semester to feel that way, but I was tired, and pissed off, and I felt like I had finally gotten to the point where I no longer wanted to live at home. I was done. I hated my classes, and professors, and job, and I just wanted to be somewhere else. I’m better now. I mailed my UMass application in, and turned in my time sheet for the week with lots of hours that will translate into dollars, and I got to pretend to be a witness for my dad’s class at the law school. I haven’t been having much fun lately. I’m lonely. I need to get out more and do things that I like, instead of the endless cycle of class, work, gym, tv, repeat. I do like those things, but they’re draining, and I need something that restores me. Pretending to be a witness for class was fun. I was a woman who had been injured at work, and I had to give my side of the story in a fake deposition. It wasn’t my favorite style of Let’s Pretend, but it was novel, and I got to talk to people my own age, and play around a bit, and I felt funny, if not terribly sharp (I didn’t have that much time to prepare, so I didn’t have a rich backstory and just made a lot of stuff up) or accomplished (I don’t want to go to law school, but I felt like such a slacker in a room full of people who are already working on their post-grad degrees). I want to be in grad school. Now. I’m sick of waiting, and I’m sick to death of worrying. I’m not going to start knocking people’s hats off just yet, but I’m itching for a change, and it’s going to have to happen soon.
I did so many things today! I got up early, and worked, and did lots of push-ups, and got things done, and went to the ECC registrar, and did banking, so I can buy my textbooks tomorrow, and went to spin class, and played Bananagrams, and now I am wiped out. I’m sore, and sleepy, and tomorrow I’ll do it all again, with three classes thrown in for good measure. It isn’t all that much when I write it down, but it makes me feel like a real person. I’m busy now. I feel tired at bedtime (and before bedtime, because homework needs to happen too), and I earn these feelings of tired muscles and productivity. I worked for them, and they’re mine.
I’ve been thinking about lullabies. Babies are never far from my mind, but for the past few days I’ve been thinking about what I would sing to my babies. My mom sang us songs about the green grass growing all around, and a naked soldier, and I sang those to the kids I babysat. I love falling asleep to music (isn’t it nice that Pandora just shuts itself off after awhile? I love that). I’m not much of a singer, but the idea of singing to my future babies as they drift off to sleep is such a nice one. When I was at Geneseo there was an a cappella group called NARD that I absolutely loved. They were just four kind of dorky guys, but they were so talented, and charismatic, and they were kind of a big deal on campus. They were seniors my freshman year, and even though I never actually met them, in a way, they were a big part of my first year of college. Their last concert was kind of a huge deal, and it was really sweet to hear them talk about how lonely they had been before they all became friends, and how much they loved each other, and how sad they were to be graduating and ending that chapter of their lives. My friend who had gone to the concert with me bailed (it was an outdoor show, and it started to drizzle, and she wasn’t the hardcore NARD fan that I was, and it was finals, but still), and I remember feeling kind of lost, and lonely, and jealous, but also really happy for them that they had been able to have so many awesome times together, and were sharing them with other people, even people like me who didn’t know them at all. Their last song was “Lullaby”, and they got emotional, and had to wiggle their toes to keep from crying as they sang, and it was terrific, and since then I’ve thought that I’ll sing that song to my kids, because even if people think Billy Joel is cheesy, they are wrong, and he is great. So, as my first Music Monday in a long time, enjoy!
Last night I dreamed that people used kale to ward off vampires. It was a pretty scary dream too, these were not sparkle vampires, they were the hardcore murder-y kind, and one was after me. In the dream people were buried with a bouquet of kale in their hands (I actually plan on having kale in my bouquet when I get married), and massaged kale in their pockets, and even then it wasn’t as effective as people would have liked. This place had some serious vampire issues though, so I guess they were just throwing everything they could think of at the problem and hoping something would work.
Today’s job is finishing my UMass Amherst application, which means I have to write an essay about how I’ll bring diversity to the program. Easy, right? Cuz Western Mass is really hurting in the white-girls-who-went-to-a-private-liberal-arts-college-and-think-they-can-change-the-world department. They don’t have any of those. Le sigh. That’s the one thing I need to accomplish today though, and accomplish it I will.
This week was supposed to be brutal. I was going to have to beg and plead and grovel and probably cry to get into my classes. I was going to have to miss multiple days of work so I could attend the same class over and over until I finally got into some time slot. My application to Marquette was going to get thrown out, and I was going to take the GRE again and it was going to suck. Pretty much none of that happened. The only actually sad thing that happened was Lillian went back to school, and that had to happen eventually anyway. I got all of my classes, and found out I don’t need to take anatomy lab, and I got to go to work (and so get paid), and I got a pedicure, and I’m still being considered for Marquette, and today I kicked some GRE ass. Not a lot, not like my sister and brother-in-law did (overachievers, pfft 🙂 ), but I improved my score. And now I never have to take it again. It wasn’t even that bad. It was actually, and I know how terrible this sounds, kind of fun for the first few sections. I like picking the best words to complete the sentences. It isn’t four hours worth of fun, but it wasn’t torture.
So I don’t remember mentioning it on the blog, but remember the guy I was bringing food? Yeah…I asked him out. And he never responded, because I asked him in an email (I know it sounds like a big loser way to ask someone out, but people like it! They do! They’ve told me they appreciate not being put on the spot!). It wasn’t a huge deal, and I wasn’t terribly invested in the idea, but I wanted to be able to say that I went for it. Anyway, I saw him today for the first time since all that jazz, and it was awkward. That comfortable friendliness is now gone. Whoops. You know what though? It was kind of worth it. I went after something I wanted, and even though I didn’t get it, I tried. Trying is more important than cheese, any day of the week.