December 28, 2007


This morning:

It's snowing

Just two hours later:

Let it snow

December 23, 2007

You make the call

What’s worse:

The fact that Matte was singing loudly and rocking out to Joey Scarbury’s Theme from the Greatest American Hero in my car?
that I have that song on my iPod?

I think it’s a toss-up

December 21, 2007

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me


December 16, 2007

I guess I don’t do pity parties well

Just after I posted this, I had a sudden change of attitude. I guess it took spewing it out on my blog to realize that the day was going to be only as bad as I allowed it to be. Sure, getting a speeding ticket sucked, but whatever. What’s done is done. And yeah, I ached after the long run, but I had a choice. I could sit on the couch, watching bad TV and whimpering while missing a fun wine tasting birthday party, or I could suck it up.

Aches and pains be damned! I sucked it up.

I quickly showered, got ready, and looked up the wineries that were included in the bus tour everyone was on. I had enough time to meet the party at the second winery, so I headed back down Hwy 17, passing the scene of my earlier crime. This time, I passed it going just over 50 miles per hour with the cruise control on.

As soon as I saw everyone on the gazebo, I knew I’d made the right decision by getting off my sorry ass and joining the party. Everyone was happy to see me, as Matte had told them about my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. No one expected me to show up, but I surprised everyone by doing so. And I love surprising people. Someone said “you should sit down!” so I did, while sipping a lovely Burrell School pinot noir. And then someone handed me some lusciously rich dark chocolate. Awesome.

The next stop on the bus tour was Savannah Chanelle, but Matte and I took my car so I wouldn’t have to pick it up at Burrell School later. At Savannah Chanelle we got to hear the interesting history of the winery, and saw a split-root tree on the property that sits RIGHT ON the San Andreas fault. Friggin’ cool. I tried jumping up and down to trigger it, but I don’t think I was able to make it rumble.

Wine-tasted out, we headed for Rachel (the birthday girl) and Shawn’s house for some eats. The menu consisted of gazpacho (I blew on the first spoonful in case it was too hot, out of soup-eating habit. But duh.) and paella (with sausage, chicken, shrimp, and bigger shrimp). Sweet Jeebus, that was some mighty fine food! We drank more wine…a fabulous 1991 something-I-can’t-recall-nor-pronounce-but-was-Spanish. Dinner was followed by a creme brulee-like dessert (also Spanish, the name of which is also escaping me). I was almost falling asleep into my dessert (at 7:30 pm), so Matte and I left for home so I could get a foot massage.

My day ended so much better than it started. Because I was not going to let the crappy day stay crappy. I would not let it beat me. And today I am sore, but it’s the good kind of sore, that reminds me that I went beyond my physical comfort zone and ran double-digits yesterday.

December 15, 2007


I was up before 6 am today to prepare for my run. Yes, I know it’s Saturday. I’m still new at the running thing, so any run I go to is an event. I have to make sure I have all the warm clothes I need, the hydration belt, the snacks. It’s quite an ordeal and still unnatural for me so it takes a while to prepare. I also get butterflies before each run. I also need to eat a real breakfast before I go, which is not something I really care to do just after waking up. But I need fuel, and will be miserable without it, so I do it, and the oatmeal battles the monarchs in my gut.

I met the gang at the carpool location at 6:45, although I would be driving myself because I needed to be back early for a wine tasting party this afternoon. Our last carpooler was late (I DETEST lateness), which meant we’d have to hustle to make our 8 am start time. According to Google Maps, it would take over an hour to get there, but with Last Minute Sally showing up tardy, we barely had an hour before the run would start.

As we hit the road, I knew I’d have trouble keeping up with the car I was following. At one point, I yelled to the driver that she was going to get us pulled over. Of course, I was yelling this in my enclosed and fabulously heated car and she was about 10 car lengths ahead of me, so my warning fell upon deaf ears. This was when I was following at 85 mph. Shortly after we merged onto Hwy 17, I saw a CHP car, and immediately slowed down. The car I was following did not slow down too much, but she did tap her brakes.

Guess what happened next.

I got pulled over for speeding.


Apparently the speed limit where I was clocked was a mere 50 mph, and I was going 65. Since I saw this ticket coming, I didn’t protest. I didn’t play dumb, I just handed over the required documentation and took my punishment. In hindsight, I should have pulled the “I’m running to cure cancer! I need to follow that girl up there!” card, but I did not. Surprisingly, it didn’t take too long for him to write my ticket, and I was back on the highway in less than 5 minutes. Still, this setback made me want to turn around and go back to bed. I would surely be late for my 8 am start. What was the point? The lead car had sped off on her way, unkowingly leaving me in the dust. AND! She did not get tagged for speeding. Perhaps his radar gun didn’t go as high as her mph.

But I went anyway. I had to. It was a 10-mile run, and my last chance for a long run until the new year, since I will be traveling when they hold the other runs.

Hey! Did you know that it is cold as @#$% near the ocean at 8 am? It is. And was. During the run, frost formed on my gloves. My teeth chattered. The five miles out part was actually OK, despite the mud and rocks and roots from the redwoods. The scenery was lovely and distracted me from remembering I was running. FAR. I kept a pretty good pace. I was thrilled to reach the 5-mile point which meant I was halfway done and I could turn around and head back. YAY! And I was good, for the first two miles back. And then, my legs decided they didn’t want to move anymore. They suddenly hurt like hell. I think it was my hamstrings, but really, my entire leg (both of them) just felt stiff and painful. I stretched, but it didn’t help, so I pretty much walked the rest of the way. And I arrived at the finish 25 minutes later than I should have (according to the goal I had set for myself). If people hadn’t stopped to chat with me on their way to the finish, I’d probably have been in tears. Because I could not run. I did not want to run. I hated running.

When I came home, too late to attend the wine tasting outing, I did the ice bath. Fortunately, I have found a way to take my mind of the frigidity of the water. Cry. I let it all out and cried like a pansy-ass baby until the last cube was melted.

As I type this, my body is still trying to thaw out. I’m cold. I’m miserable. And I hurt. For me, this day has sucked more ass than Oprah’s liposuction technician.

December 14, 2007

I know there’s something going on

This morning, while piddling about the apartment, procrastinating getting ready for work, I noticed something on the patio. It was a power cable for a laptop. And it was plugged in to the power outlet. Now, this isn’t a terribly extraordinary find, say, in August, when Matte likes to work outside, but it’s been around 40 degrees here lately, and unless Matte has Eskimo tendencies I’m not aware of, it’s too cold for him to spend any length of time writing code on the patio. Also, this power cable was for an HP and we are a Dell/Apple family.

This can mean only one thing. Well, two things. 1) someone who is not us was using our power, and 2) someone who is not us was on our patio. Our property. Where we live, sitting on our patio furniture.

Granted, they were not in our apartment, but still. It creeps me out. They have intruded on our space. Invaded our haven. I want to call Grissom to come and run a fingerprint check on the frozen cable. Ooh, better yet: Warrick. Yeah. And I would bake him cookies and just stare at his face, because those eyes. (THUD) He’s like over a foot taller than I am, so I’d have to stand on one of the violated Ikea chairs in order to be hypnotized by his eyes, and said chair would probably fold within itself under my weight and I’d come crashing to the concrete. But he would save me, catching me in his big, strong arms. Oh, and what if he needed to make sure i wasn’t trying to frame someone? That I created the crime scene? He might need my DNA. I’d be more than happy to open wide for Warrick Brown. So he could swab my cheek, I mean. And then, when he realized I had no part in creating this scene, he’d feel terrible for doubting my innocence. So we would make out.*

Uhm…so yeah. Where was I?

Oh. Yeah. SOMEONE WAS ON OUR PATIO STEALING OUR ELECTRICITY! Do not step one foot on our (rented) property without an invitation. Our abode is not your Internet cafe. There is a Starbucks just down the street, in any direction you look. Oh, and guess what, Mr. Space Invader! I took your cable from the patio, so now you are powerless. Literally. How do you like that, Assface?

*In a purely hypothetical world, of course. Love ya, Matte!

December 11, 2007

Check it

Hey! Lookie here! Consumerist done liked my pitchur so much, they included it in an article a blog post! So that $1.99 really paid off!

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