Oh, you, dear Reader, have always wondered, I'm sure, what it is to be me. Yes. Yes. A crazy, fear-filled inquisition, to be sure. So, if you want to know what it is to be me, and be me at 12:33pm after 3 16-hour work days, in my goofy goof goof state of mind, well... here it is:
This is taken from a self-appropriated e-mail just minutes ago, an e-mail which I unsolicitatatiously (er, Dawn? Help me out here with the legal?) delivered to a fine friend who happens to be "challenging herself" to learn Chinese (with absolutely no significance to her blonde WASP-y - slash - Catholic-y lineage, and purely for her own "mental entertainment"): woops. What's going on here? I'm feeling some CENSORSHIP in the blog-o-sphere - I'm getting a link when I try to post the text. OK. Re-arrange. Sorry folks, for the minor interruption. Actually, it's more than an interruption... it's a censorship block!
OK. Maybe this is a Big Sign. A Big Sign that I shouldn't be pushing any envelopes right now, like I normally do. I get it. I get it! I KNOW Rosh Shashana is Friday! I Know! OK! Relax, G-man, relax. Breathe. But you have to admit... the " chi chiii choo chung ha ha ho nim fao suk " part [of the original text] was really funny!
Ok then, ok. Yes, yes, Big G, I am going about thinking about my sins of the year, and my pure-hearted goals of next year. Yes, I am observing , thanks for asking. The only problem this year is that Yom Kippur falls on a training day, 12 miles in fact, and I think it will be a bit difficult to run 12 miles and not eat till Sunset. But yes, Sir, that's the plan, and all the time refreshing for a new year, yes, it looks to be a delightful new year, I'm very excited, except for the Yom Kippur part where I run 12 miles and then have to not eat until sundown. No, I'm not complaining at all, no; I'm simply saying it will be a true test for both my body and spirit - and yes, that's what it's all about , I suppose. Right, no, I'm not forgetting being a good person with that, of course not. I don't like to "brag" in front of others so let's just keep my good (and my bad /improvement areas) to Ourselves here and work it out next year. Good plan, Sir, er G-man, er? Yeah, great. Thanks. Yes, I know I need to work on my elegance at every level. Right, well, I'd like to blame it on my older brother and his influence on my tomboy-ish-ness, but that would be passing the buck, now, wouldn't it?
OK, then. Who else is tired of my free-flowing discussion with the G-O-D? Me too. Buone notte a tutti!
Interesting how that title can refer to so many aspects of life. Unfortunatley for you, Reader, it only has to do with me running. Me running with a dog on a leash.
Jake. Jake Jake Jake! That damn sweet adorable Labrador Retriever with the fuzzy golden face that absolutely glows with delight and is full of all of the best intentions to love one could possibly have in the world. Who could get mad at that face, that excitement, that pure pleasure of being out and about?! I can.
Yesterday I took Jake running with me [again]. He's such a great companion. Most of the time. For a 3 year old (i.e., teenager) Lab, he's really well behaved. Except when you bring him outside. No specific outside... ANY form of outside.
I bought him a lovely designer leather (fake LV) choke collar the third day I was watching him. Because, yes, not only is he a beautiful Labrador but he is also a bit on his teenager-over-the-top-exctited side, so I needed something hip to reign him in, and it had to look hella good like a kick ass dog should. Reign him in I did! He was so mallable! I was so proud! Good boy, Jake!
Good boy until yesterday, that is. Because yesterday we went for a morning 5 mile run, which was only as enjoyable as running can be when you have to look out for some creature else who is so wrapped up in their own excitement that THEY FORGET THEY ARE ATTACHED TO YOU BY A MERE ROPE. So, 2 plus miles in we have passed the footpath and are running on the sidewalk on a most distinguishly expensive road in a most distinguishly expensive locale in Northern California, when good 'ole Jake gets ahead of himself, and ahead of his Master (i.e. ME) and TRIPS ME. And there I am, in my distinguished stride on a distinguished street in a most distinguishly expensive locale, pummeling to the ground because SOMEONE FORGOT WHAT HEEL MEANS, and I am falling, and my knees hit the pavement, and then my hands (barely enough skin enclosed meat to type now), and then my left thigh and then my stomach, which happened to skid at least 2" in a very "slide into home base" manner, accross the asphalt to a not so soft landing of my chin hitting the road. Mother Bugger! That not only sucked, it was embarrassing to face plant whether a tony area or not. Ne'er a Mercedes did stop to see if I was okay. But I got up, brushed off, and started jogging again. With a "grmmph" in my stride of course.
Physically a battering day for me, but I can tell you, Jake heeled perfectly thereafter. He felt really bad, it was apparant. Well, at least he behaved until the next outing. As for me, I dismissed myself from the 12 mile run this morning because I think I bruised my ribs. Or maybe I didn't, but it feels like I have spent the last 6 months like the chick from Terminator II (that means in a jail cell doing sit-ups and getting pysically fit for the end of the world) and my neck is sore and sensitive (that means I need a jacuzzi - right now)! And the road rash on my tumtum ain't so perty either. But who's lookin'? Oh right, that Jewish producer guy. More on him later. I hope. But fyi Aunt Di - my mom luvs him - I told her she was getting the Tribe Vibe - ; )
Anyhoo, I am back in SF after 2 long weeks in Magestic Marin, bruises and all. I'm hoping the bod will be up to snuff tomorrow, since I JUST SIGNED UP FOR THE US HALF MARATHON taking place in November!!!! and I have to contiunue my training. I'm gonna kick ass. I promise! No screwing around this year; I'm already running 20+ miles/week. EZ PZ. And brunch after! Woo hoo. 11/5/06. Save the Date.
OK, back in the day, I said I wanted to see this movie, Something New. It's finally out on video, and being the cheap and not-so-movie-going-ish person that I am, I rented it. I have two things to say about it: 1 - it is good, so rent it! and 2- I have never seen so many black people in a Starbucks before. If this is a true L.A. reality, please advise. Note this doesn't mean I won't go in, it's just that the scene was a little too contrite for me.
Anyway, all in all a better than expected film. It only has a few extras on the dvd, and they're not mind blowing, but they're definitely worth watching - even if the second one is only worth it in order to hear Simon Baker speak in his natural tongue (which he had always done such a good job of hiding for us Yanks).
I'm taking care of a friend's pets yet again. It hasn't been all roses like I had anticipated: having a happy-go-lucky yellow lab obediently by my side for all adventures, having the cats curled up on the couch next to me for an evening of reading or boob tube. There must be something in the water out there in Tiburon because one or both of the cats has diarrhea and, since Wednesday, so does the dog.
Yesterday I took the dog on a hike, which he loves because he gets to be off leash, smell around and frolick behind me and then sprint up ahead to lead the way again. About 15 minutes into the trail I hesitated to continue: not only was there a new trail I could go down, but I also smelled the faint hint of smoke. Is there a fire smuldering somewhere down the path? If so, which path? What if I take this path straight back but the fire is starting on the path to the left, and by the time I come back the exit will be cut off by flames... I'll perish like a trapped rabbit! But, what if the fire is on the trail straight ahead? Can I run fast enough to outpace a forest fire? And then I sniffed the air again, and couldn't smell fire anymore, so continued on my way.
After feeling comfortable walking with little probability of encountering flames, I noticed that everytime Jake ran in front of me he seemed to have really bad gas. Geez, dog, what the hell have you been eating? We trudged along him gassing away and me exhaling the fumes away from me, and I thought I heard a mountain bike coming. The dog is pretty good about sticking to one side of the trail or another... until a person approaches either running or biking, so upon thinking a biker was coming I ordered Jake to stop so I could catch up and hold him out of the way. As he stopped and turned I freaked out.
Jake was bleeding from his neck! Oh no! What did he catch himself on? Poor puppy! As I ran closer I began to see... see exactly why the dog was emitting such foul odors - it wasn't blood smeared from his jawbone down his chest, it was shit. He must have slipped in his own poop earlier on the trail. Poopy faced Jake and I finished our walk, I tried to clean him up as much as possible before putting him in my car (unroll all windows, open sunroof!), taking him home and then having to give him a bath (which he despised). By the time I finished that, discovered ants covering the cats' food bowl and dealing with that, it was 9:00pm.
