Talk to Me

So new guy has a way with words. And I like it. But he should have a way with words since his undergrad is in creative writing. I would be highly disappointed if he didn't know 1000 different ways to make me melt/swoon/want to pounce (and so far so good).

I don't know if we're a "thing," if we're dating or just making out like high schoolers. If and how many people have seen us or know, if we say anything if asked or if anyone has asked in the first place. There's still a lot of flirty, me trying to be cute, teasing getting to know you stuff between us. But the interest is clearly established and the chemistry is there (you know what John Mayer? My body is a wonderland). I don't know what all his intentions are or even if he has intentions in the first place. There are still a lot of up ifs (which normally drives me crazy, (I like a plan dammit) but I'm doing ok with the vagueness of definition). For all I know it could be a summer thing, or it could be more. But whatever "it" is, I feel that it will fall into place how it should.

But the more we talk, the more I like him. Finger's crossed I do get to a 1000 different ways (and dude can speak spanish too, so even if he does run out of things to say, he can just reiterate something in another language. I'll never know the difference)

Math Skillz

Math is one of those things that you either get or don't get in my opinion. I get it, I always have. But since I hadn't taken a math class in almost 9 years, my skills were a bit rusty to say the least. So I'm in pre-algebra as a refresher course.

Anyway, I almost always get the right answers but I don't always say them out loud because I don't want to be the only one who ever answers in class. Because I don't want to be that person who ends up annoying everyone. Well today I said the right answer (as I am wont to do) and as I was answering, I heard something murmured between the 2 guys that sit behind me (one of them's the mouth breather). I didn't hear what was said, but from the tone and timing, I could tell it was something along the lines of little-miss-know-it-all.

And it hurt my feelings at first, but then I slowly started seething. Why should I feel bad for something I'm good at? I earned my A, and I'm not going to diminish one of my strengths because you don't seem to get this stuff.

I did get mollified a little bit though. I stayed after class to ask my professor about taking a placement test (to get into a higher class this summer), and he said: "yes you do" all affirmative. It was obvious from his tone that he knew I was doing well and thinks I might be able to place. My algebra skills came back pretty quick in that class, so fingers crossed my trigonometry does too. But this was said in front of the mouth breather, who was trying to arrange an extra help for this class. So there, nanny nanny boo boo.

Why No One Will Ever Feel Sorry for Me

I have a certain pair of jeans that I refer to as my "skinny jeans." While they aren't my smallest pair, I look bloody fantastic in them. I feel like a super model when I put them on. My legs go on for miles, they hug all the right curves and hang in the right places, they have just the right amount of stretch, and the back pockets accentuate in the right way. Bloody. Fantastic. I f*cking love these jeans.

But when I started running I slimmed down a little bit. And I lost even more weight because of the break up. (I'm one of those bitches whose appetite goes when I'm sick or depressed, making me even thinner). So over the past year, I've probably dropped around 5-10 pounds (even my chest is smaller (cries!)), and I've kept it off.

So now my skinny jeans, that I look like a super model in? Are too big.
Right. Like anyone's ever going to feel sorry for me for that.

Bedroom Redo

What my room used to look like:











Blue with balloon wallpaper half ripped off. And the clown border ripped off years ago. (What can I say? We did the room when I was 4 and I like the circus) (Bailey's just adding to the decor)

What my grown up 26 year old room looks like now:













PINK!













With brown trim!

















It's like sleeping/homeworking in a strawberry cream filled chocolate

Side note: Bailey however, has not changed spots on the bed. That's OK, she still adds to the decor, and she's color blind anyway

I Did It (again)!

I finished!
Now normally I don't like putting pictures up of myself in general. Because then people can see what I look like. And I especially don't put pictures up where I am:

• Am wearing absolutely no makeup
• Am really sweaty
• Am tired

But this was taken after the Derby half-marathon on Saturday and I'm clearly in a good mood in this picture.

That's a finisher's medal around my neck, and yes, that is a beer in my hand.

As we know, my goal was to simply finish and not die. Which I did (obviously or I wouldn't be blogging and you would be very sad if I died too).

My chip time was 2:27:19, which makes my average pace an 11:15 minute mile. I feel really good about that. I didn't shave off any time, in fact, I added almost 2.5 minutes to my previous one (my Pig time was 2:25:06), but I don't mind. The big difference with this one is that I actually ran most of it (instead of walking the hills, and the first 8 miles of the Pig? All hill) and I finished a lot stronger too. I want to say that I ran 11.5-12 of the 13.1 miles.

The Derby Mini I was a lot more regulated and controlled, sticking close to a pace group helped a lot with that. And I was in better shaped going into it too. This time around I built more core/back/arm strength in my training routine so I was more evenly balanced. I took it easy in the beginning and I ran it fairly conservatively because the heat was climbing rapidly (a lot of runners collapsed because of it).

Today I'm not too sore, my legs are tired and my feet even more so, but I expected that. It's mostly my between my shoulder blades and middle back that hurts the most, nothing that a little ibuprofen can't fix. I'm able to move around like a normal person, just a little slower.

I did it! I did it! Go me!

And We're Off!

It's here, the half marathon I've been training for! EEP! We're off to Louisville tonight to pick up my packet and then at 7:30 am the starting pistol goes off. For those of you that blog stalk me (and I'm oddly touched if you do), you can find me here. There might be a way for you to track me, so you'll get a email or a text message letting you know when I've crossed the half-way point and finish line. (My bib number is 8963 apparently) Or you can wait for a post race blog, because you know I will.

Anyway, I am nervous. Not as nervous as I was for the Pig last year, but there were outside factors that contributed to that. My ex informed me we were dog sitting that weekend 2 hours before the extra dog was dropped off (like how he didn't check with me 3 months before when he agreed to dog sit in the first place? (Hi, bitter, party of one)). And we were having company too so I was in full fledged Donna Reed on speed mode. (I am a rocking hostess. But you don't want to see the crazy that gets me there)

The point there, is that I am nervous, but it's a different nervous. This is just a holy crap I'm really going to do this nervous. But I have a somewhat calmer approach to this race. I'm going to stick with my MO: finish and not die. I'm not trying to win, I'm not going to harp (too much) on my time, I just want to complete it and say "I did it (again)!" I'll run as much as I can when I can, but I'll walk when I need too. Plus it helps knowing that I have completed another half so I know I can do it.

I'm excited I get to run through Churchill Downs where the Derby is run (I love horse racing). I may not have trained exactly as I should have (I did get my miles in Amy, I really did! Don't worry, I won't ask for another training plan), but I'm ready. So we're off!