The Kings Speech Trailer 2010 HD

I think the King's Speech left us....speechless.

"Forget everything else and just say it to me"

Penny Lane and William - Almost Famous bootleg cut - Untitled

Ask me again.....

Nervous behavior

When I first started road racing I would get so nervous before the gun went off. I was a constant cycle of the pee pee dance followed by a short jog to the porta potty and back (at least twice). I was that bladder control problem commercial which begs the question, why do they portray cross guards in these ads when it seems like the people most plagued by wanted to pee their pants are runners? What makes a middle aged cross guard have to go so bad anyway? I'm running 20 seconds per mile faster, I've taken in 16 oz of liquid and I'm listening to Ice Cube, you think I wanna stop?? 40K people on the streets and nowhere to go...besides in their pants. Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that I'm nervous again? Did I fall out of love with running and then fell back in and somehow missed it? I can safely say that there were points during the year where I was coasting and going through the motions getting from one place to the other. Mileage logging for the bigger picture. There's nothing sexy about that. Then I took two weeks off after Philadelphia and I missed running dearly but I promised myself indulgence and rest. The first day that I came back to run, I was faster and better and I felt brand new. Naked baby new. I've posted some incredible times just on training runs and I wonder...how long will these 9 min miles stick around? I love them like I love my rose bush in my kitchen window that I killed and brough back to life. I love them because I feel like they look good on me. Everyone looks sexy when they're passing someone else. I've invested in a mental cape and tights and I'm ready for a PR. And with that said I have a race on Saturday, it's only 10 miles but it'll be some sort of reality check. I wish Sunday came before Saturday so I could pray for fresh legs and no need to pee and a good salt level retention. I write this because I believe that when you say something out loud that it makes it real and there's some sort of accountablility involved. I can come back to my blog wounded but i can't come back crying about rain or general fatigue. There's no crying in running....except for when you kick ass.

And the Oscar goes to......

The Fighter was amazing. Why does it seem though that all the brilliant actors are one restraining order away from the insane asylum? Do you have to be mad to be brilliant?

I'm trying to make sure that by the time the Golden Globes come around I've been educated in this years films...and also I'm hoarding more videos into my digital diary. We're heading out tonight for dinner and a movie. It's our last chance for awhile. Ah yes, a Spongebob respit. I'm not sure that I'll be eating anything. I had this massive lunch with creamy sauce....I've spent this entire afternoon wondering whether my insides are going to explode. I'm lactose intolerant so of course they will. Many thanks to the makers of Pepcid AC. Then I'll be foreced to apologize to everyone within a 30 mile radius. On that note I need to find that video from the movie Friday.



Tonight, True Grit. Tomorrow, King's Speech.

Once upon a Galaxy

Once I left home at 17 and went off to college I began to notice slowly at first and then quicker as the years wore on that there were a million things I never learned in school. I spent years reciting the preamble to the Constitution, multiplication tables, pinpointing Istanbul on a map and poking at small animal organs but more often than not it seemed like lots of the high points were left out. I've always wanted to come up with a manual of how it really happens once you shed the cap and gown and take a foot hold or should I say death grip on the real world. I remember when I was a little girl I was worried over trivial things such as why we weren't going to spend the afternoon dropping cash and swiping credit cards around town just as if it grew on trees and I remember my mother explaining to me about how tough it was making your way in this life. I think back and wonder why they couldn't have had some sort of a slide show, PowerPoint presentation about the drop out of school to driving a 94 Hyundai for the rest of your life scenario? Couldn't have hurt? That's just a raindrop in a thunderstorm of the millions of things I wish I had a manual for. And if you haven't guessed by now I love manuals.

When I had Sydney it was an all points bulletin to gather up all the pieces to my life and put them together in a coherent manner. The puzzle needed to be completed and I had a checklist of all things necessary. Health insurance, retirement, paycheck, roof. I had a little girl, the thing that I most wanted in the entire world. I still look at her and have that thought, just sometimes now I have to watch her sleep and think angel as the puberty years have set in. And if you haven't been there yet just know that if you EVER wanted a manual for anything it's how to set the ship back on course after a teen girl has flipped the boat over and snapped the oars in half. I always wondered why the government bothered with water boarding when they could just threatened the enemy with teenage mood swings. Hormones, more powerful than an atomic bomb.

Four years later came my boys in Brittany Spears style, one right after another. Two boys. People just look at you and laugh and regale you with stories of broken arms, bottle rockets and BB guns. These two guys charm like professional gypsies and add a smell to my home that I'm not quite sure even Yankee Candle could handle. You can never be prepared for the amount of food they'll eat and the amount of socks and underwear they'll go through. It's a never ending cycle of laundry and little men in the making. As a woman though I knew what to do with dresses and tea cups, hair bows and lip gloss. When the boys reached five our universe or should I say galaxy began to enter operation Star Wars. I've tried watching the movies and have been able to sit at least through half of each. Maybe half. Forgive me if I'm wrong but they seem kinda complicated. You can never quite put your finger on who all the good guys are and there's like a million planets and troopers and a whole new species of animals to get acquainted with. I'm glad Gary Lucas had all this spare time on his hands to make up a new world because I'm sure struggling to master the one I live in. And it's not just enough to make a movie, Leggo had to jump on board. I would love to shake hands with the mastermind who said "hey, I'm gonna put 500 pieces in a box with a kick ass picture on the outside and sell this Death Ship". I realized last night that I was the end product of this decision as I was putting together my 5th Leggo toy of the holiday season.......with crazy glue. Did you think I wasn't going to glue together 5 hours of work? Or....are you wondering whether I have any fingerprints left? Both valid questions.

Anyway, when you're putting together these little gems you realize that once again, no one ever told me that I would go through a phase of my life where I would spend hours of back breaking and eyeball numbing time searching for the joint that holds the wings together on my sons Starfighter. And I think....Is it under the table? Will the dog poop it out? Could I have assembled this whole section incorrectly? Shit! Someone get me a knife, I have to get these pieces apart before the glue sets! Whew, I did do it right. Wow I'm good. Could I possibly make money from home assembling other Leggo figures? How would this look on a resume? I need to take pictures of these, I could be setting a holiday assembly record. It's never ending and I hope I'm not alone to say that I nearly feel fit for a straight jacket by the time I'm finished.

Summer Skies and Stars Are Falling......

Christmas. I got everything I had no idea I was getting. A belgian waffle maker! A Nook! A handful of gift cards! So here I am, at the computer downloading. I have $25 to spend in the Apple store. Decisions, decisions. What's the one thing that I don't have that I treasure more than any other in the ITunes world? Paul Simon's concert in the Park. When I was 16 my boyfriend bought me this little gem of a life changing two disc collection and I listened to it each night as I fell asleep. It never gets old. I hope one day if our species gets wiped from the planet that they'll find my Paul Simon collection and not my daughters Kesha CD. I've never felt like I've missed out on much in this life but I'm pretty sure that concert in the Park would have been pretty amazing. Maybe this explains why I'm so fly by night.

The Christmas Eve Runs

I moan about waking up early these days to go out and run but I tossed and turned all night about the idea of getting back out on the pavement. I've settled in nicely to the shiny new treadmills at the Y. I've always hated treadmills, usually because I have terrible form on them and I end up with a sore neck, back and everything else. I have a great imagination and lots of things that I stew over so that's usually good for about 35 minutes worth of entertainment, then I switch over to singing, which is good for another 20, maybe. I up the incline, i down the incline, I speed up, speed up some more, wonder what's gonna happen if I fall off, hit the wall?? I race the other people on their treadmills. Just really ridiculous, juvenile stuff. Finally today was my chance to see if my running legs on pavement had improved as much as my legs on the hamster wheel had? The Horse Park was bustling with runners, about 10 or better at least. I never see all these people and now on a holiday they're wearing a trail through my trail. The more the merrier! 6.27 in 56.55. I was pulling down 9 minute flat miles like I had wings on my back. I've never had wings before. I've never had good legs before. 7 days till the Hangover Classic. I'll take a new 10 mile PR under the tree tomorrow. Sheesh I love running.

The Space Between

If you were to ask me how I've spent 2010 I would have to honestly answer that most of it was technically spent sleeping, working, driving, waiting in line, cooking, doing homework and running / smelling bad in general. I thought about trying to put those in order but as you know, I suck at math. It's the little things in between I find that make it all interesting. For me anyway. I was thinking while I was driving. Dangerous, yes I know. Since I gave up smoking in the car a couple years back I've redirected my efforts to reflection and mindless radio lip syncing. I thought up a bunch of different ways to kinda package up my year in a way so here goes but then I realized I was thinking too hard. Hazardous behaviour (like how I give "behaviour" an English u? I decided that I was gonna post whatever came to mind.....and this is where it took me.



2010 was the year I ran. I ran every week and I raced what seemed like every other week. It was unbelievable. But for every high there's a low and as Forrest reminds me "sometimes there's just not enough rocks".



Sydney learned how to swim....like an Olympian. She fell in love with the water. I spent 6 months of my life making sure that she had a date with a "400 warm up". The boys played soccer and I'm officially qualified to paint the van yellow and mount a meter to the dashboard. I just need to locate that extra seat that we took out.



Went and saw Dave Matthews Band in concert. I watched the entire event on the lawn in a thunderstorm. I wondered if Satellite sounded better when I was soaking wet without shoes and on my fifth Miller Light??



Took a vacation to Gatlinburg. We left our city element to head for the country. All I could think about as we drove our way into town was this was some version of Vegas in the south...with taffy. I loved the mountains but was troubled by a sign in a creek warning me of raw sewage. Huh!? Yeah. We got bused deep into the mountains for a lightening bug display that I'll never forget. Second largest gathering of lightening bugs in the world aside from Singapore. Luminous delight.



I'm a connoisseur of the movies. I like what I like and I think everyone else should have the same taste as me. This was a toss up. I really liked the Girl With The Dragon Tattoo and Avatar in IMAX 3D was well worth the $235 or whatever those glasses cost to go see it but there's something about a nearly washed up actor making a bank robbery come-back movie in his own backyard. Possibly I'm just a sucker for a good Boston accent. I spent 2 hours of my life in 2010 watching this movie.



I quit watching music videos about 20 years ago. Then youtube came along and here I am watching the same 15 over and over again. I liked this one. It's part of my collecting my favorite things all in one place deal. Breakeven.



Asides from my bed, my home away from home is work. I have a great desk with a fireplace right next to it. I'll never take for granted loving what I do. I love my job and I'm happy to wake up each morning. There's no price tag to put on things like that. My work away from work is Keeneland. A dusty tackroom, folding table and laptop, auctioneer lulling me to sleep in the background. Chasing down paperwork like it's my job. Wait, yeah, that is my job.



Sunday Night Football! I'm an Eagles fan and that involves being regarded as ghetto and labeled as obnoxious and insensitive. I'm a good fan and I love dogs as well. That's why I wear a Kevin Kolb shirt even though he never gets any playing time. Dedication. Sunday night is also taco and cookie night. I drink soda and fall asleep during the 4th quarter.



(500) Days of Summer. Not your average romantic comedy. Things don't go as planned. As happens in real life. I'm not sure why I'm including this.



Our trip to NYC. When I think of places that I want to go it's always at the top of my list. It's crowded, it's noisy, has tons of lights, it never sleeps. I always imagined myself living in the city in a tiny overpriced apartment owning one of those flower shops where the colors are so brilliant. I was completely content watching my kids walk the streets with wide eyes. Nostalgia.



Everything I needed to learn about running I learned during the Derby Half Marathon. Drinking the night before is never a good idea. Eating a philly cheesteak the night before is also never a good idea (unless it's from Geno's in Philly). Running in the heat sucks. The idea of heat stroke sucks. Not being able to locate a porta potty in your time of need sucks even worse. On the flip side God gave me two legs and lungs that work. I was given the gift of running and for that I'll be forever greatful. It's saved me from many, many dark places. Like the Jelly of the Month Club, it's the gift that keeps on giving.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

No Comment(s)

I had a friend (I use that term loosely) call me yesterday and the conversation went like this.

Friend: You and your stupid blog. Does anyone even read it?

Me: I don't think so. Thanks for being a fan though. Obviously you do.

Friend: How come no one ever posts comments?

Me: I dont know, because no one reads it. I think I'm gonna use it as a favorite place to store my videos so I dont have to surf youtube.

Friend: Ha Ha Ha. Good idea.

I wondered if the death of my blog was eminent? I love to write, I've kept a diary since I was old enough to write a coherent sentence. So, here I am, entertaining myself with my own thoughts and stories. I began thinking though, if everyone else in the world was getting ready to do a yearly YEAR IN PICTURES montage then maybe I could too? My diary is only paper so imagine the nightmare it would be for me to find pictures of Italy or to paste pics of our trip to Manhattan in a diary? This is why I love my blog, there I said it. It's all of my favorite things. Plus, where am I going to store all of my Will Farrell video clips and John Mayer songs? Gay.

This is my favorite video. I risk sounding 12 when I say that. None will equal the great Coldplay (mixed with Jay Z for crying out loud). The two of these guys could sing about chickens laying eggs and I'd sit quietly in awe. Anyway, this song. The lyrics. They're kinda my mantra for the year.



Just because I'm losing
Doesn't mean I'm lost
Doesn't mean I'll stop
Doesn't mean I'm across

Just because I'm hurting
Doesn't mean I'm hurt
Doesn't mean I didn't get what I deserved
No better and no worse

I just got lost
Every river that I tried to cross
Every door I ever tried was locked
Oh and I'm just waiting 'til the shine wears off

I wanna go there... wherever there is

I don't vacation much. Or I should say "we" don't vacation much. Each year we take about a week and go somewhere, maybe two weeks and it's usually a really great spot. I love cities so we always end up in a metropolitan area walking the streets and enjoying the nightlife. Over the past couple years we've made our way down the Magnificent Mile, through the art museums of Chicago and took an unhealthy amount of pics in D.C. and Philadelphia, out to the Statue of Liberty and back to the top of the Empire State Building. In short we've been the beginning of a prepositional phrase for our vacation spots. I like it that way. Since we've been married we've driven across the United States twice. Do you ever get the feeling that you've seen it all with the exception of the LL Bean store in northern Maine and no one really goes there? Right? I'm thinking big this year. I wanna go where millions go each year with the exception of myself. Eurorail! Financially speaking this won't be fun but I'm a you only live once kinda girl and why not go for it right? Dream scenario...I want to fly into Venice and fly out of Naples seeing, eating, drinking and taking pictures of everything in between. Is this possible? I'm not sure. Am I gonna try. Hell yes. Let's call it my New Years Resolution even though what I'm pretty much resolving is my commitment to spend an excessive amount of cash in a down economy to overload on carbs and take in ancient history. Wow, it sounds good when I put it that way.

A very good place to start - VENICE. I'll be listening to Styx rendition of Come Sail Away



Rome is full of fountains. I wanna throw a coin in each and make a wish.



Piiiiiiiisa. And hopefully some piiiiiiiiiizza.



Last but not least! Naples / Pompeii

Boxing - My Guilty Pleasure

Have you ever had a guilty pleasure? They come in two kinds, the first example would be like owning a closet full of fabulous handbags, you're not ashamed but you really don't care to let everyone know over dinner party conversation that you've amassed a shrine to Michael Kors in your home. Or is it the second kind? You have a passion for knitting your guinea pig holiday sweaters? You adore making them and watching your pets parade around the house in them but you would under no circumstances let this cat outta the bag, especially if everyone knew that you knitted them while watching professional wrestling. I've decided that my guilty pleasure falls somewhere in between.

A few years ago I was sitting on the edge of my bed staring into the tiny excuse for a TV set that we have in our bedroom when I decided that it would be a good idea to watch HBO 24/7. It's a sports documentary show that's largely dedicated to boxing. As you well know boxing is HBO's cash cow. Now, when I grew up I knew no one that boxed nor did I box myself. One year when I was a little girl spending the summer with my grandparents out in New Mexico I remembered my grandfather watching boxing during the Olympics. I was a 12 year old girl watching men stand on a firm piece of taught trampoline, bounce in a circle and try to punch the other guy till he fell down. When I started watching was about when I stopped and left the room. Thanks but no thanks.

So fast forward to the night on the edge of the bed. I've started running at this point and the show always starts with some back story on the fighters then pans straight to training camp. I love the vocal narration stylings of Leiv Shreiber (the movie star) who in his most arduous tone of voice lets all of us sitting on the edge of our seats know that these prize fighters aren't just working their abs for my benefit. There was millions on the line and I needed to show a little respect. I was hooked. They had me at training camp. Even though I still find it ridiculous that they train like triathletes yet never just stand in the middle of the ring and take a couple dozen punches to the face which in essence is EXACTLY what happens. Sure their obliques are punished handily but it's all about how strong your face is in relation to the other guys glove and the ability to get the hell out of the way. This is what I've taken away from my time spent with Leiv and my boxing guys.

I've often tried to explain my affinity to other people and I get as far as the response that comes in the form of raised eyebrows. That's when I know to stop speaking. I can't resist though. About 5 minutes in when those guys start running and talking trash I'm in.

See I use to like this guy, the ones that's lying flat on his back. I'll never cheer on the best looking boxer again. Lesson learned. We went to Vegas for this fight. Ricky got knocked out in the first round and made the front page of the sports section the next day.



This is Manny, he's the best boxer that's fighting right now. He's the one in front, I know the other guy behind him looks almost identical. I guess that happens a lot in the Philippines. Sadly enough I always try to figure out how fast they're running up the mountain side. I wanna run with Manny too, I just need to figure out if I can keep up.



This is Manny before his last fight with Margarito. Guess who got their face rearranged? On a side note I think that if Manny doesn't make it in boxing I think he would be great running a day care center. He has the most welcoming smile.



This is Margarito in the 12th round with Manny. He got annihilated by the day care center guy. Guess who didn't practice getting punched in the face or getting out of the way? The only thing that's not a mathematical certainty is what the bills gonna cost to fix that face.



This is Floyd "Money" Mayweather. He's afraid to fight Manny. He talks loads of sh*t. It's fun to listen to. His training camp consists of loads of guys that love Taco Bell. I like Taco Bell too.




This if Freddy. He's Manny's trainer at the Wild Card gym. On my bucket list is a trip out to Hollywood, CA to go meet him. I'm not sure what I would say besides something absurd that would get me shown the door but hey, you don't know if you don't try right??

Black Ice and a dead skunk

It's December and as if things weren't crazy enough with Christmas shopping and endless amounts of driving, throw in a little of nature's own gift of snow and ice. It's beautiful yes, necessary, not so much. Can't it wait till Christmas Eve when my turkey is purchased and sled inflated? I'm an only child and that's pretty much why I'm talking this way. I'm use to my life being like one BK ad. I dont eat BK but what I'm trying to say is that I get it my way.....or was that Frank Sinatra? No, no, he did it his way. Same principle, different entities. So last night, Sydney and I were on our way back from the YMCA and it's absolutely still outside. It's the calm before the storm. I'm not being metaphorical, there literally was a storm on the way. I have my high beams on, I'm about 2 football fields from my driveway when I lay eyes on a skunk staggering down the middle of the road, a little on my side, a little into the lane of oncoming traffic, then back into my lane. "OH CRAP THIS IS GONNA BE BAD" i yell as the little stink badger steps back into my lane. WHACK! I do the next logical thing and that's conduct an instant smell test to see what destruction the poor little thing has wreaked onto my car. Those skunks, they're like roadside bombs these guys. I pulled into the house and my husband pops his head out the back door with a "which of the dogs found a skunk?" This dog did. My only saving grace was that it was freezing outside.

Anyway, I tried to make it to work today to no avail. Drove down the driveway and nearly slid into our automated gate then turned around and came right back home. Last night I was watching the news, I could foresee that nothing pleasant was going to transpire overnight for me but I woke up early and took a shot and making it. I always feel guilty when I can't get to work because of the weather. Stupid, I know. So, if I cant get to work then I'll tackle putting Humpty back together again. Humpty's my house and it's in pieces. If you came over you would beg to disagree but I cant stand for even my closets to be out of order. I'm just waiting for the phone call from a focus group wanting to interview people who like to keep their homes organized like a Pottery Barn catalogue. I'm cursed with the clean gene. I wouldn't wish it upon anyone. Once I realized I wasnt going to work, I threw on my sweats, house boots and absconded myself into the basement where I commenced to doing multiple loads of laundry followed by cleaning out the coat closet and trying to locate the stockings. Where is the F*ing house can those stockings be?? I love how my husband with great assurance says things like "oh, yeah, they're in the trunk" as if he's held this important little tid bit all along only to reveal it to me in my hour of need. I have news for him, they're not in the trunk, or in the closet, or in the basement boxes. Did Santa accidently take off with them last year? Funny enough I did get them from the Pottery Barn and they were pretty fabulous.



This is what my living rooms looks like......stop laughing.

The Other Guys

I'm too sexy to remember my sweats

What I did today in my little running universe I like to call going for broke. Yep, I decided that I was gonna put two 4 mile days back to back and make em' snappy. Why isn't my left leg hurting? I don't know, you tell me. Who shot JFK? Why are some Target bathrooms in the front of the stores and some in the back? These are questions we might never know the answer too. One of about five things I have on my New Years Resolution list is to speed it up this year. It's my new "Move It Or Lose It Sister" policy. Of course I'm gonna lose it, and I don't have a sister but I do planning on "moving it" which is really the moral to the story that I'm getting at. A special Amen Hallelujah to the YMCA who've installed two brand spanking new treadmills. I felt like I was running on butter (although there was little sliding around). I obviously cant afford such hamster wheel luxury in my own home so I was thrilled to find a new toy away from home. I think everyone in that room could see that, like a new car, I was prepared to tinker with each and every option to make sure that I was ready to not only go to the moon with the astronauts if need be but also run 4 miles. Anyway, I get done with my run, I go change, whoops, my 11 year old daughter packed my gym bag and left out the sweats. It's 20 degrees outside and I need to go to Wal-Mart. I don't really have a problem with this but it seems like the patrons of my local discount store did. They stared.....and then they stared some more. By the time I left I was ready to challenge someone to a race in the parking lot. My hair is disheveled, I have on running shorts, it's not like I walked in with koalas stuffed under my armpits and a bird in my hair. Next time I'm gonna show up with a shirt that has the word "Run" on the back of it followed by a Webster's dictionary definition. It's what we do.

Swearing at Car doors, Chicken Wings and Running

Finally I can talk about running again. I’ve handed in my 3 milers for 6’s. I went out Sat morning at the Horse Park with a friend. They have all the Southern Lights displays out and even though they weren’t on it was still pretty fun and I can’t believe that it’s been a year already since I started running out there. Sherpa’s are to Mount Everest like Coy is to Horse Park. HAHAHA! I’m so funny. And if you were thinking that that’s pretty sad math well don’t bother getting near me while I’m trying to balance my checkbook. It’s somewhat the same. Anyway, it feels really good to be back, like a part of me that has spent the last three weeks mowing through cookies and numerous cans of Grands biscuits, while reminding myself and others that butter is one of the best things to ever happen to food, can transform back into an athlete in time for the New Year. If left unchecked I’ll put on an easy 10 and return to my slovenly ways. I’m the mayor of Couch Town. In fact, I was there just last night with a mountain of Spicy Garlic buffalo wings and Christmas cookies watching the Eagles thump the Cowboys. I have another 6 miles on tap tonight so the extra ranch was just a plus. I added a side item of celery to make sure that I’m adhering to the strict guidelines of the nutritional pyramid. I slept well last night. Although I’m not sure if others around me did. Smirk.

I’ve picked out some races this year. Planning ahead, impressed? Last year I think I ended up running 5 halves, 2 fulls and 2 Tri’s. I was having a conversation with someone the other night about my races and I realized that they roll off my tongue too easily. It was as if I was ordering off the menu at Taco Hell. 2 burritos, 4 chalupas and a partridge in a pear tree. It’s hard work and dedication (I’m not talking about Taco Bell anymore) and somewhere you have to have a screw loose. I have my share, running is just my way of keeping the wheels from falling off my personal operation. I might otherwise eat Christmas cookies year round and take up the bucket margarita during the hours of 5pm to 8pm. Anyway, I’ve cooked up a race plan for this year that involves traveling and friends, just the way I like it.

I’m a history fan, duh, so I’ll be making the pilgrimage to Springfield, Ill the first weekend of April to run the Abraham Lincoln Half Marathon. You should see the medal! I wont lie, it’s the reason I’m going. Sick right?

The end of April I made a plan with a friend to run the Flying Pig Half. This’ll be her second (Hi Chacey). I loved the marathon last year and I’m looking forward to not only an expo that gives away free toilet paper and toothpaste (“Word up” Proctor and Gamble) but also one where there’s a themed water stop dedicated to Christmas in April.

In the spirit of saving the best for last it’ll either be the Marine Corps Marathon in D.C. in late October or New York in Nov. Please say New York in November. I’ve never won any kind of lottery so just to get in to N.Y. would make feel like I’ve hit the runners Powerball. If I get to run be prepared for lots of bragging and horn tooting. Beep Beep, Honk Honk.

That’ll being me up to November where I’ll start doubling up my daily caloric intake.

So asides from running I’ve gotten to partake in my second most favorite thing. Shopping. I realized that I develop a migratory shopping pattern. I start the last week of November to the first week in December, I then forget what I’ve purchased and believe that it’s not enough so then I go out the week before Christmas and indulge in more ignorant, gluttonous shopping behavior. I then take my second round of shopping back to my hidden closet only to realize that I’ve become a retailers dream come true. Speaking of retailers, I’ve always wanted to say this out loud: “REALLY TARGET, WHEN I SIGN UP FOR YOUR CREDIT CARD I’M GOING TO BE GRACED WITH YOUR GENEROUS 5% SAVINGS, THANK YOU BOX MART, THANK YOU, THAT’S NOT EVEN GONNA COVER SALES TAX YOU TIGHT WADS”. There I said it. Makes me wanna roll right up to the check out with a shopping cart full of small items and pay in pennies.

Otherwise, I’m working and enjoying the snow. Most people hate the cold and snow but I find it pretty ok. This is year two where my sliding side door on the mini van wants to act like a jerk and not close at very inopportune times. It was on the receiving end of a proper swearing this morning. Then I sprayed some grease in a can at its joints, swore at it some more and then it worked. Cursing or grease? You decide.

Just When I Thought I Had Heard Them All -

Great song about L.A.

The Burning Bush

Did you ever really dislike someone? Of course you have, that's just my way of luring you into the land of bad spelling, better known as my blog. HAHAHA! Welcome. I really dislike someone. There I said it. Sounds extremely juvenile and petty when I put it out there like that but I've learned something today about not liking them. I'm reminded quite often that I see relationships in black and white. You're either in or your out with me, there are no shades of gray. I never wanted to see this as the truth but that's exactly what it is. A couple years ago I went through tons of change. I woke up one morning and made a decision. Like a wave I took lots of things with me and I'm sorry I'm being a bit vague but ..... you'll just have to follow me in generalities. There was a person that I found to be loathsome. On the outside everything seemed ordinary but on the inside this person was a deep shade of appalling. I was never very close to them but carried a deep distrust for anything and everything that happened to roll out of their mouth. Their actions were ones cloaked in deceit. Can you hear "You're a Mean One Mr. Grinch" music playing in the background? Good, so can I. What's worse is that I favor the Grinch. I'm a grown adult and live by the mantra that you can only allow people to hurt you and although I put a bandage on the cut it seems as though at times I can still see the scar. What is dislike's ugly cousin? You guessed it, Ill Will. Wishing ill will on the person that has (insert awful here), it's almost like trying to give up chocolate. I heard their name today and immediately sent them packaged up boxes of mental ill will. Merry Christmas Appalling, I wish a flock of geese would take a ginormous crap on your shiny car. As I'm just getting warmed up with the insults I'll go ahead and quit while I'm ahead. In this same conversation that this person's name came up the following text ensued over this Ghost of Christmas Ass (sorry had to throw that in there). I asked her if she believed in karma, bad things happening to bad people and she said that she believed in the burning bush. This is why she's one step ahead of my frivolous thinking. There are signs that we all choose to ignore or to follow and it's not for me to worry about their burning bush while my own is on fire. Thanks dear friend, who I'll call Oprah, for setting a small piece of me free earlier.

Sydney's Lucky Fin

If you're expecting to hear a well thought out and poorly spelled blog then you've come to the right place. I pride myself on good spelling but as I go back and read my blogs I've proven to myself that somehow I've eluded my spell check with ostracized vowels and consonants. Sorry guys. So, lets see, Sydney had her first swim meet of the year this past Sunday. If you've never had the privilege of attending one of these mini Olympic events you should put it somewhere on your bucket list. This is her second year and I was baptized by fire early on last year. Folding chairs, towels, pasta, chlorine, just to name a few of the days players. It's wet, it's eye stinging, lung burning and it brings out the passionate parent inside of me. I'm sure other parents have names for me that don't involve any terminology that reflects passion but I realize that I nearly have no control over my poolside "you can do it" chants. I want to stop but I don't know if I can. If there's a hot line go ahead and forward me the number. I watch other parents stand 10 ft. back on tip toes, peering over the crowd, chewing away at their nails IN SILENCE . What an arduous task it would be for me to step aside in agonizing silence and just let my eyeballs do the hoping. Right? Cause if I'm not vocal then all that's left are my eye's to do the cheering? Not possible. Let me quick recap. She had a great butterfly relay, then a breaststroke heat that she won, then a 200 yd. breaststroke heat that she lost. I was there when she climbed out of the pool. I wrapped my arms around her soaking wet body and wiped her tears from her speckled, red face (she gets that from me) and told her that I loved her no matter what. I do. One of my greatest joys in life is watching her pour every ounce of Herculean effort that little body can muster into a labor of love. Sydney like every other child is an entrepreneur of childhood activities. From soccer to theater, she's had her hand in the cookie jar but the day she squeezed into a Speedo, tightened the goggles and put her hair up into a swim cap was the day it all changed. I soon learned that it wasn't just sport but that the water was a place where she could go to rest. Sometimes I take hostage the lap lane beside her and while coming up for air I can see the look on her face in the lane beside me and it's a portrait of peace. So, after the bout of tears following her breaststroke relay, we had a meeting of the minds as to how to put the train back on the tracks. There was a 50 freestyle relay coming up and I could only think of one thing to tell her..."pretend it's me in those 5 other lanes", to which she gave me a smile, turned her back and walked away. We're a competitive pair. I promised that I would be there cheering for her. One more time I was "that parent". Loud, smiling, louder, moving my arms in the universal motion for "come on", at some point the other kids in the lane next to her had to be wondering if I was rousing them to victory as well. Sure, why not. She won, by a little better than an arms length. More wet hugs followed by the realization that I was shamelessly cheering too loud. I even hugged/shook her coach (no difference besides level of injury) and reminded her that "that's my kid". I tucked my mental tail and thought about my boisterous behavior at the end of her lane and finally decided last night to ask Syd about my animated merriment. She was kind enough to save my feelings. I reminded her that once upon a time a few months ago when I thought I was possibly drowning during the swim portion of my triathlon that I could hear her shouting at me from the upper deck of bleachers. Touche (yeah, that french word).

On the raod again..... New York and Phildelphia

The masters of disasters in front of the Libery Bell.



A local....and the kids.



Cheesesteak War.



We're on a boat.



The last time I took this boat ride the skyline looked a bit different. It was the elephant on the boat.



Two of the finest ladies I know.



All 5 of us resting on her walls.



The city is full of these giant binoculars. I'm pretty sure that my boys found each and every pair.




The new Freedom Tower being built at Ground Zero. I hardly recognized the entire area from when I was last there when it was just chained link fence around a large destruction zone that was still being cleared out.



A copper mural on the building next to where the Towers fell.



Herding the kids in and out of the subway. I would try to describe it but I cant.



The boys watching the Today show get ready for the Macys Thanksgiving Day Parade.



It's almost impossible for me to look at this and not think of Sleepless in Seattle. When I got to the top it was almost impossible for me not to think about my horizontal hold.



We got tired of waiting in line to take the elevator to the top so we opted to take the stairs. 8 flights of pure anticipation.



Happy faces at the top!!



This was one of my favorite pictures from the trip. The boys were fascinated by the view.



Syd and I



Anyone for a movie??



Three stories of TOYS TOYS TOYS...and one bathroom.



Whatever the guy was paid to put together Mr. Lightyear wasnt enough. I've put together my share of Star Wars Lego's and I have to say that any parent who has will give a high five to this builder of the plastic shrine.



Yes!!! A little piece of Americana, The Naked Cowboy. I touched "the butt".




Everybody was King Foo Fighting



Blowing up the balloon party in Central Park.



More train rides and sleepy faces.