When we last left off. . .
… right before I blew up the site, that is, I had promised to tell you about my awesome Saturday and the inappropriate involvement with strangers which it contained. As you know, I usually like to limit my inappropriateness to the shiny box on my desk and all of the nice imaginary people inside of it. In person, I am much less likely to run over and accost you.
Stop laughing.
But the thing of it is, I went for that really long walk and I think it may have waterlogged my brain. I cannot be held responsible for what happened afterwards! There’s this funny thing that happens when misery and adrenaline collide. It completely corrodes your inhibitions (yes, I do have some). Why bother with social norms when you are equal parts exhausted and elated? read more…
It’s that time of year…
Now that the site migration is all done (I think? I hope?), I thought I’d point out that I recently lost a bet with Joshilyn and although she is really being restrained about gloating, I am grumpy.
I had to get revenge the only way I know how, and the way I only get to do once a year: Publicly praising her (which we all know horrifies her delicate, self-effacing southern heart).
Woohoo!
Lookie there… we’re up and running.
Welcome to the third (and hopefully final) home of Woulda Coulda Shoulda. Come on in and make yourself at home.
Just ignore all those chunks of hair littered about. I ripped them out during the nameserver debacle.
I was so wet…
… that it didn’t even occur to me, until I typed it, that that would be an excellent name for a porno.
… that I leaned over to adjust my shoe and the hood of my windbreaker dumped out a quart of water.
… that my socks turned blue from my heel support inserts.
… that my toes were all pruney.
… that we stopped after 9 miles because I was actually starting to get that chilled-to-the-bone feeling. Not to mention the blisters on the tips of my prunes, err, toes, and how we thought we’d put on dry socks and keep going, but our shoes were positively squishy.
So, yeah. It was pretty wet. But we had a great time despite having just met this morning (hi, Amanda!) and did a bunch of hills and decided that between the hills and the rain we get to count it as at least twice as far as it actually was. Shut up. That’s completely logical.
Woo, I walked 9 miles in the rain! Am totally ready to go walk 60 miles, now!
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At least the lawn will stay green
Remember how I said I’d arranged for no rain? It was all good, and then I lost my mind and accepted an invitation for a 15-mile training walk at 7:00 tomorrow morning.
It is now pouring (and is forecast to continue through the weekend).
Me, I’m just sitting here listening to the rain… wondering just how badly 15 miles in a downpour is going to suck.
My guess is that the suckage will go all the way up to eleven! I’ll let you know.
Pumped
Although the forecast is calling for heavy rain (oh! something new! we haven’t had THAT in a while!) through the weekend, I can pretty much guarantee you that it won’t be raining at all. Any time in the near future. Or possibly ever. Nope. Gonna be nothing but clear skies from here on out.
How can I be so sure?
Why, my sump pump has been installed, that’s why! Completely obliterating any chance of further rain!
No need to thank me. Using Murphy’s Law to redistribute meteorological events is just another service which I offer.
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Alla y’all ROCK
As of five minutes ago, I have achieved my goal of raising $5,000 for the Susan G. Komen Foundation.
HUGE thank yous to everyone who was kind enough to donate. And YES, you can still donate. Also, my walk partner hasn’t yet reached her minimum, so feel free to email me for a link to HER page if you’d like to donate to her (which is really a donation for me, because I have an irrational fear about sharing a tent with a stranger).
I can’t put into words how moved I am by this experience ALREADY. I’m going to be an utter basket case on the walk itself.
One day down!
Lemme tell ya, this summer vacation thing is no sweat. I mean, you sleep in a little (6:40… WOOO WE ARE REBELS), you run some errands, you go have some free lunch, you throw the kids outside, you yell at the kids to go BACK outside, you let the kids come in and then they fight and then you send them to their rooms for time-outs and then you have a nice cold diet coke with lime punctuated every five minutes with “NO, you may NOT come out yet!” and wonder what you’re going to do for the NEXT two and a half months!
(Hint: It may involve rum.)
Oh, I kid. I’m a huge kidder. I haven’t touched rum since that unfortunate incident in high school. (Note to my parents: I mean, someone else had some rum, and I disapproved! Mightily!)
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The future’s so loud, I gotta wear (ear)plugs
This morning–the LAST! DAY! OF! SCHOOL!–dawned cheerful and bright, and I realized that for all of my careful end-of-year organization and preparation, somehow, I hadn’t procured a gift for the bus driver.
This was a problem. Not only do we have the only bus driver in the history of elementary schools who actually LIKES and is GOOD WITH small children, I’m pretty sure she spends her entire (meager, no doubt) salary on treats for the kids. The woman deserves canonization, really, but I usually settle for a small gift.
What to do, what to do. Oh! A Dunkin Donuts gift card! Know what else they have at Dunkin Donuts? DONUTS! For breakfast! Because I am SMART. And masochistic.
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The diving board
I made a critical error today. Today was too much fun for Monkey. Like, all-day-long bouncing happy shiny FUN FUN FUN.
Which means that tomorrow, I am screwed.
[Don’t believe me? Here’s what happened at bedtime:
Monkey: MAMA! I LOVED TODAY! Tomorrow will be EVEN BETTER!
Me: Um, well, I loved today too, Buddy, but tomorrow might be less exciting.
Monkey: No WAY! Let’s do it all again tomorrow!
Me: We’ll see.
Monkey: Maybe we can do MORE!
Me: *softly weeping*]
So if you don’t hear from me tomorrow, it’s because I decided to take Monkey to Disneyland….
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