Table for One

I will admit that walking into a restaurant and saying, "just one" is not my preferred way to dine, but it sure beats takeout in a hotel room. I was pleasantly surprised to find that "dinner for one" is a legitimate category on Yelp, so I picked a place that sounded good close to my hotel in DC and off I went.

I was seated in a row of tables in with nothing to look at except the rest of the empty dining room. So I pulled out a pen and an old receipt, taking the opportunity to jot down the whirlwind of a trip that I've had so far. Shortly after, two young ladies sat down at the table next to me. Thanks to this experience, I will always go to solo meals equipped with pen and paper. Next time you're at a coffee shop or restaurant and the single diner, deep in thought, is writing while they eat, keep in mind that although they appear to be in their own world scribbling their genius ideas... they might actually be writing about you.

On the back of the receipt, in between names of memorials and museums are quotes from my neighbors' discussion. What I can tell from their conversation is that they're college freshmen who don't like their roommates. They are members of an unnamed sorority and it seems they are plotting to ditch their current roomies (who are super lame) to live with each other next year. I assume this is because they have so many common extracurricular interests. Based on the location of the restaurant and references to the street names where they have class, I think they go to George Washington University (although there were also lots of references to Georgetown). They are classy ladies.

Brace yourselves friends, for this is the state of our youth:

• "Poly-Sci is the only class I did very well in. The term paper was like 15 pages. I turned in the rough draft like two weeks late and the final paper was over a month late. Hahaha." The friend replies, "Yeah, a lot of people at the school aren't very smart." 

Can we please keep in mind that GW is a prestigious, highly selective (only 30% of applicants get in), private university that costs over $40k a year for tuition alone?! And Georgetown is the other feasible option.

• "Hooking up with a stuffy nose is awful!"
• "I went to the Museum of Natural Science and just thought, 'I need to smoke some weed and go back.' So much eye candy there."
• "Oh, she looks like she would be like that. It's so funny that she actually is."
• "My town is like, all Jewish." Friend immediately responds, "Yeaaah. There are a lot of Asians in New Jersey." 
• "My Big just made pot brownies."
• In reference to a roommate (who is no fun at all), "She's exactly who our moms want us to be."

In related news: look out Carly Cessani, you're roommate's talkin' smack about you. And for the love of God, stop sending your papers to your mother to proofread, you're a big kid now.

On Philadelphia

Let me tell y’all about Philadelphia. It’s the city of brotherly love, killer cheesesteak, and good, honest, hardworking people. As I am writing this, I am racking my brain, trying to remember who is famously from Philadelphia. If our country could be from somewhere, would it be Philadelphia? I’m sure this city is a lovely place full of rich history or culture, but let me tell you, that was not my experience today.

As I fly over the city, I think about the birds eye view of Philadelphia (and other East Coast cities, for that matter) and it feels very eastern bloc-y to me. Bear with me here. It’s the gargantuan, severe, brick mega-plex apartments, the cold weather, the flat landscapes with barren trees and the smoke stacks vomiting into the sky. It just doesn't give me the warm and fuzzies.

I know that I haven’t seen much of you or gotten to know you very well, but I’m sorry Philadelphia, I've made my judgment already and I’d like to leave now.

In my brief experience, Philadelphia is a city that’s 20 degrees outside and 120 degrees inside. It is the city where every woman’s pants must be tucked into her boots, and airport shuttle drivers think it’s their job to test your reflex and balance skills. It’s a place where an elderly woman seated on an airport shuttle feels the need to keep her feet in the isle, directly under the only open handrail space (not very promising for the balance test). It is where the 20-something sitting across from me at gate F1 is dead to the world, swallowed up by his large headphones and iPad. His personal items have seized the opportunity to make an escape and eek all over the row of three seats he is single-handedly occupying at a gate with half as many seats as people. The gentleman standing next to him (for lack of sitting room, I suppose) is entirely unaware that his fly is down. X-amine Your Zipper my friend. His hands are in his pockets, spreading the fly open for all the world to try and find something to stare at to avoid looking. And what an awkward cultural moment. Is it acceptable to say something? Is it acceptable not to? This place makes me uncomfortable.

Last, (and most definitely least of all of my lovely experiences in Philly) is the point when I run to the restroom before boarding my flight. I am minding my own business thinking about how much I dislike this place (truth) when the genius automatic toilet system decides it’s time to flush – with me still on it. I don’t think I even have to try to explain how unnerving this is. If it’s ever happened to you, you know. My distress runneth over.

So, Philadelphia. Please keep sending your cheesesteaks and sushi rolls out into the world. I’ll pass on the rest.

The Beginning: 13x13x13 - 1

Post race! Feeling glad to be finished.

Half marathon number one in 2013 is on the books! If you've missed out on the resolution behind this, and what is quite possibly the craziest thing I've ever agreed to, I suggest you take a peek.

I had three goals for this first run:

- Move myself 13.1 miles
- Don't get hurt
- Keep it under 3 hours

All I have to say about that is: check, check and check!

Time: 2:38:30



This definitely wasn't the easiest run I've ever done, but my time wasn't half bad when compared to my previous half marathons. I knew I wasn't prepared in the way I'd like to be, so I implemented  a new strategy - running one mile, then walking one minute. Repeat lots of times. I didn't stick to this very strictly in the end, but it seemed to get me through! It was a great for breaking up the run into digestible pieces, but I don' t think it's something I'll stick with (I think it blocks "the groove").

My feet definitely hurt and the muscles in my legs started getting sore even before I was done running, but no serious shin splint or IT pain is definitely a move in the right direction. One down, twelve to go!

I made Thanksgiving dinner again because I had a really great
run 2 days after Thanksgiving. I clearly have a theory. Recipe
experiments may be a fun part of this experience.

This morning's view

The note I left for Casey because he gets nervous when I run
long distances by myself. He didn't find it until he was about to
search for me because he thought I had been gone too long.

Great drive home. What a beautiful day!

If I lay down to stretch after a run, Kitsune insists on cleaning
me. If I let her, she will lick my entire face. Eyelids and all.

Brrrr

I officially became acquainted with the cold this morning. It feels like I haven't run in eons and I finally sucked it up, rolled out of bed and into my new running shoes... in 35 degree weather. It's easy to come up with excuses not to run, and for the last couple of [gulp] months, mine has been a combination of an insane work schedule and that thing going around the office.

As unfortunate as this morning's weather was for runners in Houston, we don't have a lot of room to complain. Unlike many of my runner friends back home, it didn't involve precipitation, even colder temps, or both. However, it did involve tissues. LOTS of tissues. It turns out that my Chilean glittens (gloves + mittens) are perfect for such occasions! These things are just so useful.

My first 13 miles of 2013 will be this Saturday, and unfortunately this morning's run was the first I've done in quite some time. 4 miles in about 43 minutes. I'm hoping to squeeze in another 6 tomorrow and then a brief break before the first 13. Wish me luck!

I've even given up on putting contacts in to run.
Thanks to Tori for the warm ears!

Domesticated

Before I get into this blog post, I want to start by answering one question: no, I am not pregnant. No nesting here, promise. Good, moving on.

With that being said, in the past weeks I've felt some, shall we call them, domestic urges. With the new year often comes an examination of one's own life, and I've been surprised with my results. I'll admit that I'm not the most traditional wife, and I'm okay with that. Mrs. Cleaver can keep her day job and I'll keep mine.

However, this year, one of my goals will be to spend more time on my family and our home and less time mindlessly browsing the internet and doing other things that don't really matter. I'm even considering going so far as to setting time limits for certain activities and cutting myself off. We'll see how this manifests, but some of the things I'm hoping to spend more time on include:

• Cleaning. Self-admittedly, I'm not the tidiest person. But I do love when things are clean and organized. I'm hoping to set some sort of chore cleaning schedule for us and stick to it. Thrilling, I know.
• Cooking. I don't hate to cook, but I don't love it either. It can be really hard to become motivated to cook when your other half is so good at it, but I'd like to like it. It's better for our bellies and our wallets. Plus I'm pretty sure it can be fun too. Hoping to find out!
• Budgeting. Once upon a time, we were overly organized about our budget but we've slowly found other, more exciting things to do (surprising, I know). I thought tracking every single penny on a weekly or even daily basis was overkill, but let me tell you, it works. There's no better way to cut unnecessary spending than by actually paying attention. That and couponing.
• Reconnecting. If you haven't noticed, I've been a little busy lately. The truth is, between running a million half marathons and learning Portuguese, I'll continue to be pretty busy. But that doesn't mean that I should spend all of my free time on Facebook. My last official mission is to hang out with the fam and pay more attention to their Love Languages (yes, this includes the pups. call me crazy); watch movies with Casey, take the dogs to the park, all of that good stuff.

I ran this idea past Casey the other day, and despite the fact that one can't really complain about these resolutions, he was quick to point out that people need to wind down. And sometimes that involves "meaningless" things like killing an hour on Facebook. My hope is for any of these items to become more apart of that process than things involving a computer. I could also stand to read a bit more.

Project Português

Some people think I'm not happy unless I'm overcommitted. They're right.

I've earned more degrees than I care to admit and often sign myself up for extracurricular activities I don't have time for... while working. Recently, I realized that despite all of the stress, I don't feel like I'm doing anything if I'm not doing everything. So, that's my self-awareness moment of the week.

Since finishing grad school and taking up running, it's become clear that I have a little bit of free time. The other day, Casey and I had a conversation that went something like this:

Casey: So, I figure you're going to need something to do.
Me: Well, I want to figure out how to crochet. I can make a blanket or something.
Casey: Yeah, I don't think crocheting is going to cut it.
Me: I'm not going back to school.
Casey: Sure.
Me: No really, I'm not!
(Let me just pause to say one thing: almost everyone in my life who knows me well will not believe for one second that I'm done with school. No matter how I insist that I'm not going back for a Ph.D. IF I do, there will be countless people waiting to say "I told you so.")
Casey: Okay!
Me: I should probably learn Portuguese.
Casey: That would do it.

I should explain that all of my students speak Portuguese. Quite a few of them speak English, but not all of them and I'd love to be able to communicate with all of them and answer questions from people who email me in Portuguese. I don't have to learn it, but if all of my students speak it and work will pay for classes, I figure it's kindof silly not to take advantage.

I'm using this opportunity to broaden my music horizons. Some of the radio stations I listen to play music from Brazil, but since it's such a great way to learn and practice a language, I've been looking for more. This lead to the discovery of Zeca Pagodinho. He's lovely and makes me feel like I should be in a little bar on the beach in Brazil sipping on a caipirinha. Here's to hoping that happens sooner than later. Enjoy!

Love Languages

If the concept of love languages is applicable to non-human intelligent life, I think I have the dogs pegged.

I thought about this when I came home from work today and Bear and Kitsune went through their normal routine. They peeked through the blinds as I came up the stairs, got visibly excited and then disappeared. I almost can't open the door because they're so close to it when I come inside. They greet me and then right away, they go into the individual plans of action.

Kitsune takes off and appears to have lost interest. Then she reappears with some sort of offering: her favorite bone, a tennis ball (or whatever the favorite item of the day is) and drops it at my feet. It seems like she deliberately chooses this item, because if it's in another room, she'll pass up other toys to find the one she's looking for. She's also not generally interested in doing anything unless there's something in it for her. Receiving Gifts. check.

Bear, on the other hand, physically bombards you. Tries to do headstands on my feet, follows me around so closely I can barely move. It's like he can't get enough of him to touch enough of me. All he wants is for me to stop and give him all of my attention. That and to pet him until the end of time. He his clearly a Physical Touch kind of pup.

This might sound a little crazy, but I think it might have some validity. Please expect that, until we have children, I will continue to apply concepts of human behavior to my dogs without shame.