Cursive Writing

I think I’ve discussed my annoyance with removing cursive writing from the school curriculum. Off to Amazon to buy a workbook and do it myself. Heck, I thought maybe I’d host classes for the kids in the neighborhood.

The beauty of our written language cannot be lost.

Then, the principal sent home a slip that requires both the student’s printed name and signature.


That’s sort of a basic thing we take for granted. Should I tell him to put a big ‘X’ on the line?

Make A Wish Triathlon – A Tale of a Relay

I signed up as a relay to live my dream of swimming in the ocean in a race, and not have to run after. Then the runner dropped out. Then they cancelled the swim. So I got to RUN TWICE! Can you imagine! How lucky for me! I hate to run.


I’m sad to report that I will not get to experience the exfoliating wonderment of seawater and sand in my wetsuit. As one seasoned racer described, “sort of like being inside a giant LOOFAH!”


Instead we got to run up the beach. It seemed like forever, and certainly my legs think it was at least a mile, maybe ten. My time shows 5:50, and we all know I don’t even move that fast for a Boston Crème doughnut, so it must have been more like half a mile.


I couldn’t decide if I should run in shoes or no shoes. I looked for Liz Flynn because when in doubt, do what the chick who is going to Kona does, right? I opted for no shoes, which was probably a mistake, but at least some of my old chipped nail polish got rubbed off.


The BEST part was running pavement barefoot. Of course, I mean it was a ‘what the heck was I thinking’ moment.


I handed the chip of to my high school BFF Deanna. She was riding my bike, Sally. Note to self—a 3 pound girl on a 2 pound bike is not good on a windy day. She made it back all in one piece after about an hour and a half.


The run was 3.1 miles down the road, and back. I high-five’d the state trooper at the turnaround point and prayed I’d never see him while going considerably faster in my car. By mile four, aside from passing traffic I was all alone. I passed a few walkers and had been passed by a few young children chasing an ice cream truck. I got bored quickly. I could see the towers in the distance but my legs were sore in odd places from that beach run. Liz passed me a 2nd time and coached my stride a little, and urged me to finish strong.


I got to the last water stop expecting them to say that there were two miles to go. I’m pretty sure I was hallucinating because I SWORE Billy Idol was running along side me at one point. Can you hallucinate from boredom?


Regardless, there was only one mile left and it was the hardest mile I’ve ever run in my life. It wasn’t the distance. I’ve gone farther, it was the crappy head wind that made it feel like I was going up a hill. A small hill, but a hill nonetheless without the visual stimulation of having the top of a hill to look to motivate yourself.


I saw my friends and Liz cheering at the finish line and I did my best to do my fabulous last 100 yards sprint—where both feet actually leave the ground, but I was beat up. The picture my friend managed to grab looks like I’ve got a horrible toothache or I just gave birth. Not sure which.


Later someone introduced me to the wonders of the Bloody Mary Bar at a local pub.


Thanks to everyone who donated…I raised $215, just shy of my $250 goal.


Swim…err run up the beach 5:50


Mr. Obama

Yes, I hope your Internet spiders pick this up.

I hoped to take some free time I had to help the cause. Answer phones, give people yard signs, make calls.  I have bombarded with emails about how I could print stuff out to hand to my friends. I love the idea of getting on a bus and going to Virginia. Or Pennsylvania. But BACK OFF. Does every communication have to be a plea for funds?

Then, the icing on the cake– you sent me a speech you made about economic policy, something that is important to me. What ARE you planning to do with my taxes?

It wall sounded peachy until you got to the part where you were going to MAKE EMPLOYERS SUPPLY PEOPLE WITH 7 DAYS OF PAID SICK LEAVE. What crazy planet are you from? Every person in this country is going to get another week off? Sure that’s going to stimulate things in the economy. Let’s make them be LESS productive.

See, my company has an OPEN sick leave policy. You can be sick whenever you want. THE MAJORITY OF PEOPLE DON’T USE THEM. When they do, it’s only 2-3 days a year. I’m talking about a group of 1000 full time employees ranging from maintenance and mail machine operators to executives.

There are people who do take a lot of time. They go into a medically managed short term disability plan. Then there is a teeny minority who takes advantage of every situation. Who every month or so has an illness that’s just bad enough to take sick leave, but never quite makes it the whole way to disabillity. They’re essentially taking everything they can get 20-40 sick days a year. Those are the folks you’re going to grab with the 7 days of sick leave. Lucky for you, a good portion of that population has already found jobs in government service, where naps are not only allowed, but encouraged.

So the rest of us want to work and be compensated for that. How are companies going to pay for the mandatory sick leave? They’re going to take away from some other benefit that I enjoy to pay for it.

I wanted to register my appreciation for YOU deciding what benefits are available for me, thereby reducing my flexibility by giving me a gift I don’t really want.

I don’t know that I can get on one of those buses now with a straight face, and I’m opting out of your emails.

Weekend at the Beach

Several months ago, I thought it would be SUPER COOL to run the Make A Wish triathlon at Bethany Beach, DE. There were several reasons:

  1. This is a Husker Football bye weekend
  2. So, I’d be able to drag DC out of DC
  3. We’d go to the beach, out of town.
  4. I have friends who have a house near the beach, it would be CHEAP
  5. I convinced friends to do the race with me in a relay
  6. Make a Wish is a charity I’d like to support
  7. I was called by the challenge of the ocean swim. My BFF from high school, D, would do the bike and her friend, A, would do the run. It would be perfect!

So you can see that for MANY reasons this was the PERFECT PLAN.

Until DC started to work the 60-80 hour week PROJECT FROM HELL. For weeks now I’ve been a whiney work widow, hoping against hope something would change and he’d be in my car as I drove to the beach. There were several glimmers of hope, and several moments of dissapointmet.

I found people to ride to the beach with. (you know my driving sucks and I have had quite enough speeding tickets) Then I didn’t. Then I did. Then I didn’t. DC found he was going to be free, then he wasn’t, then he was, then he was going to a bachelor party, then he wasn’t, then he was.

I wondered, at one point, if he was going to surprise me. I stayed at his house on Thursday night. What were the chances he was going to jump in the car with me? 100%. Then he expected me to drop him off at work. Bleh.

You see, he was off on Saturday. But I had to be at the beach and checked in by 10. He didn’t finish work Friday ’till 9. Bleh. Sure he could have driven AFTER,but REALLY? Drive 3 hours, then get up at 5 to sit through a race and drive home again? After a 60 hour week? I’d be a sadist if I expected that.

So, with great apathy, I drove to the beach early Friday hoping to get in a practice swim with my wetsuit before the race.

My hosts were fanastic. They had another guest and we entertained ourselves all day long. The ocean, however, was stirred up into a regular tempest and any sort of practice swim was out of the question.

The next morning, my BFF from high school and I headed to the race. As we’re walking to transition we hear, ‘it’s a shame they cancelled the swim, but 10 foot waves are scary’. CRAP! I mean I’m glad I won’t die, but really…the ocean swim was what got me there. So two of my 7 reasons for coming were shot.

Oh, and I forgot to mention. The guy who was going to do the run wasn’t able to come up with the $125 entry fee. So really, that makes 3 of the 7 shot. I hate to run.

I wanted to support Make A Wish, right? Bleh. I could barely raise $200. My goal was $250. It was pitiful. So that’s 4 out of 7 shot.

So instead of a swim, we ran for a mile on the beach. Which I hadn’t trained for or really thought through. So I check the crowd. Shoes? No shoes?

I opted for no shoes though some guy near me kept re-assuring me that I’d do better and save my ankles, I disagree. Oh, and the standing for 45 minutes in the sand waiting for our ‘wave’ freezing as the ocean winds blew through us. Literally.

AND the FANTASTIC gift of running off the beach onto the pavement and around to the transition area. Running in bare feet on pavement is FANTASTIC after you’ve just scratched the hell out of them on the sand with shells and such.

D took the timing chip and took off. It was cold and windy and I was really worried about her. So I put on warm clothes, watched a good portion of the race and did some yoga while I waited to do the 6.2 mile run.

In typical race fashion, I was smiling for the first 3 miles. Waving, chatting, and complimenting women on their tops. I was probably in the last 10 finishers, since the relay teams ‘swam’ last, I’m slow and D is slow. At least we weren’t last. But I was running for a VERY long time all by myself. That really sucks. I’m a people who needs people.

My coach, who won a spot in Kona in October was there and for FUN she ran the 6.2 a second time. And provided coaching and support as she passed me. She waited to see me finish and cheered with my friends. I’m so gay for her.

So I finished and we ate and I was introduced to the phenomena of the ‘Bloody Mary Bar’. Let’s just say if there is a make your own bloody mary opportunity, I’m there. I’m all about the bloody marys these days. C’mon, it’s alcohol with CELERY! It must be healthy.

I showered, said good bye to my friends and bought some sugar free Red Bull. I wanted to sleep, but more than anything I wanted to be with DC. So I drove 3 hours without stopping (at the speed limit).

We spent the following 24 hours in a haze. Trying to enjoy each other, when we really wanted to just sleep with another human being nearby.

Admittedly, this weekend was some of the sweetest unadulterated displays of emotion I’ve ever experienced with DC. Last weekend he said things that curled my toes, this weekend was really the ultimate in easy togetherness. Sorry, no details though. I’m protecting our privacy.

Oh, and he held my hand today IN PUBLIC. {sigh}

I’m still tired. But happy. Everyone is where they should be. :-D

Feeling Bloggy….

So many things to share today!

Last night, I dreamt that Dominic West from The Wire was visiting DC and I. My mother kept walking into the room naked. DC was laughing. I was mortified.

 My son D has decided that he likes ties. He was so cute yesterday that I snapped this shot with my camera phone. He’s wearing a tie again today. I remember when my son, A, went through the same phase, declaring, “I’m a tie man, mommy”.

Do all little boys go through this stage? Is there something in my parenting that drives them to tie-ness? Next he’ll be wearing mis matched shoes like his brother.

Does anyone else think he bears a certain resemblance to the lead singer of a rock band?

While we’re talking about my sweet little boys, today I mentioned to them that I was thinking of having dinner with DC on Sunday. A is such a wise, sweet boy. He said, ‘We’ll be with Grandma? Ok. I think you should see him. You miss him when you don’t and I like to see you happy.”

I, of course, countered that I miss them equally when I’m away from them. He looked at me and said, ‘We’re fine, we’ve got the Wii.’

I’ve been having lots of trouble with foot pain, my heels to be exact. I’m told that it’s Plantar Facitis. It’s getting worse instead of better and resting only makes me fee stiffer. So I’ve implemented lots of yoga and stretching as well as ibuprophen and icy hot, but I still walk like a 90 year old when I stand up after sitting for any length of time.

So, I’m at my desk today, with bags of peas under my heels, and switching to a hot rice bag every 15 minutes. Keep your fingers crossed. I have to run a 10k on the 20th. As a result of all this I’ve slacked off on the running and now I feel like a big fat, cow. That plus the 30 pounds or so of nachos I’ve eaten in the last few days. Apparently they’re my current weakness.

To fill my work widow hours, I’ve signed up to volunteer for the Obama campaign. Lick stamps, answer phones, go door to door. I’m up for anything. Maryland is a democratic state, though, I’m not sure what I’ll be able to do without travel.

I’ve also made some connections with the folks at Girls on the Run . While I don’t have a daughter, I feel like it’s my duty to encourage others. If someone, ANYONE had encouraged running back when I was 12, I know I’d have fallen in love. Of course, being a child of dysfunction junction, my parents teased me instead. Plus, I ran my best 5k EVER when I found a sweet little girl walking. Encouraging her improved MY race, so I’m going to do what I can.

Campaign Against McCain

I’ve had it. After seeing the post on Maven’s Blog in the Republican Flip Flop , and checking out Sarah Palin’s resume, and generally looking around, I’ve decided. I will do everything in my power to make sure those people are not in charge of my country.

Yes, for years I was a die-hard democrat. I cried when I found out Bill Clinton wasn’t the man I thought I’d elected. I so believed in him and his presidency. Then I felt jaded. Taken advantage of. Many of my very republican friends have been joking lately that I’m coming to the other side.

I like the basic rights. I think people should work for what they have and if they didn’t have to work they should appreciate it and maybe help other people move up a little. I don’t believe everything should be handed to anyone– you know…teach a man to fish. I’m a self-made woman and appreciate that in others. I will use a gun if I had one to defend my family and property. I’m the only one in my family that doesn’t have a hunting rifle somewhere.

Well. I’m not joining the Republicans. If Palin is the best you people can do, then I’m not playing your game. I could name A THOUSAND or so women that would be better qualified to represent your party for this country.

I REALLY FEEL QUITE STRONGLY that if Matt Damon makes more sense than your candidate, you’ve got problems. Which one is prettier is debatable. Both good looking folks Damon and Palin. BUT I KNOW DAMON better. He’s been around for years. I’m sure he learned a thing or two doing those Bourne movies. He’s referring to freakin’ actuarial tables for God’s sake.

This video came up in my reader and I watched only because Matt is pretty and I like to see his lips move. But Dude…if Palin thinks every time someone mentions a pig, we’re talking about her, I’m embarassed for her. Really. In general I think celebrities should keep their pretty mouths shut. But he makes sense.

(This post is dedicated to my favorite Ann in the world who professes ‘I Love Sarah Palin’)

So today, I launch my campaign against McCain. Now I’m calling my friends who are involved and asking them what I can do to make sure this whole election doesn’t go south.  Just like it did four years ago.

Of course, I’m cruising YOU TUBE and I found this….which I just have to share:

Can’t Stop Laughing.

I was going to post about the magical evening I had with the boys at the Orioles game last night.

That topic just got trumped.

My friend Ariel called and said, “I FOUND YOUR VAN!”

Some history: my van was stolen from DC’s house…you can read about that extravaganza from last November here.

The day before Thanksgiving, DC and I shopped and bought Libby. A week or two later, the police found my van, but since the insurance stuff is all done they just kept it and life went on.

Periodically one of the boys will mention that they miss the van. Once or twice a year I miss the cargo space, but I’ve NEVER missed driving a mini van.

So, enter Ariel, today, announcing that she’d found my van.

With the pink Tinkerbell sticker still affixed to the rear window. The van was being driven by a large, black man.

I just can’t stop giggling at the site. She said she took a picture. I can’t believe it’s local. The kids are going to have a heart attack if they see it!! THE TINKMOBILE LIVES!