I was five when Thriller caught my attention, and every time it came on MTV (you know, back in the day when MTV was actually music.television?) I sat spellbound. That's no small feat for ADD-riddled kids who can't sit still for .5 seconds, let alone for the duration of a music video that went on FOR. E. VER. I loved Thriller so much I named my cat Jackson. She was a rescue that a creepy lady went door-to-door offering to the first person who would say yes. How could my parents say no to a little girl begging for this kitty? Jackson was black with a white underbelly - literally black and white. How ironic when you think about it, no? So when I think about Michael Jackson's death, it's not so much about him than it is for my first cat that I loved so much. My own little black and white thriller.
Oh Boston, what are you doing to me? You know how hard winter was for me, with your 50- or 60-something inches of snow and never ending cold. So why, then, are you robbing me of summer? You know, the summer which is far too short anyway?
You were so promising in April, with some sunshine and then again in May, but now you're just cruel. You've been raining almost every day for the past few weeks, and I can't begin to describe what you're doing to my psyche. It's not just me either - everyone I talk to is suffering. How can you do that to us?
So please, PLEASE, let the sun come out. Give our ever-so-brief summer a chance to happen before you fade into fall. I promise we'll all take advantage of every beautiful day.
With the big 3-0 around the corner, I thought there would be nothing better in life than to buy myself my first pair of Choo. So last Saturday Stephen humored me (after making peace with me spending ridiculous amounts of money on shoes) and took me to the Jimmy Choo store to try on this pair of Jimmy.
I'd like to think of this as the shoe session that wasn't meant to be.
First, the store doesn't carry this pair - the only pair I want. They carry the black version, but seriously, who wants black? I have a dozen pair of black pumps. So I thought I'd try on the black pair just to get my size and then order them online.
So I put on my size 40s and what do you know? Toes all jammed together, one on top of the other. Seriously. On.top.of.each.other. The sales lady SWORE they could stretch them out for my mammoth sized feet. I decided to try a different pair.
Six different pairs of Choo later and the same thing. One after another, each too small for my not narrow feet. Defeated, we walked out, with nothing but disappointment.
I'm ok with the fact that my feet don't fit Jimmy, but I'm not ok with the thought of paying $600 for shoes that may or may not stretch out.
So the shoe quest continues.
This little blog of mine got a shout-out today. Or yesterday. But I saw it today, so that means today, right? Like if a tree fell in the woods and no one was there to hear it, would it still make a sound?
I digress.
Becky gave me a shout out of blogs she looks forward to reading every day. It's probably because we're BFF's*, but that's not the point. The point is that Becky has friends. Powerful friends. Don't believe me? Look at this comment from Jenny, one of MY favorite bloggers.
So the moral of this story is that I love getting shout outs. Giving me a shout out guarantees that I'll buy your vagina a beer when you come visit.
the end.
*Becky went to grad school in Boston, but we met in Texas at a PRSA event. I was moving to Boston, and that connection made us instant BFFs. Who says networking isn't a good thing?
Just got back from the annual SCOOPERBOWL, to benefit the Jimmy Fund, and take a good look at that picture. That, my friends, is about how many scoops of ice cream I put down tonight.
Now, I'd love to give the excuse that I ate so much because it's charity, but we all know that's not the case. C'mon people, this is a recession! And in a recession, you get your money's worth. So.I.Did. So there!
Here's a list of all the flavors being offered - I confess to have sampled at least 90 percent of these. Hands down, Ben & Jerry's had the BEST flavors. Oatmeal Cookie Chunk, Strawberry Cheesecake, Goodbye Yellow Brickle Road and Chocolate Macadamia - oh boy, my mouth is watering all over again just thinking about it!
There are a few things I absolutely love about Boston, and this is definitely going on the list. I can't wait to go back next year!
My first race in almost a decade went really well on Saturday. I set out to keep a decent pace of 10 minute/mi and surpassed that by :30/mi. My final time was 50:49 (for 5.3 miles.) Not too shabby for my first race, but I know I can do better.
I felt great after the race - both knees and shins held up throughout the run, and just a little sore afterward. As nervous as I was for this race, I had a great time and can't wait until my next race.
Wish me luck - I have my first road race tomorrow. This is the first race I've run in about 8 or 9 years - crazy right?
And could I have started out with a minor race? a 5K maybe? No. That would make TOO much sense.No. Instead, I decided to go with this 5-miler. Technically, it's 5.3 miles. What can I say, it's for charity. So what could make running a race for charity even better?
DRINKING BEER after the race. That's right. Beer. This is, after all, the Harpoon 5-miler. For those of you readers who aren't familiar, Harpoon is a local brewery. So here's how it works:
I'll wake up early tomorrow morning, run this course, which starts and ends at Harpoon (all 5.3miles of it - but at least I'll have the Garmin), then enjoy some Harpoon brew.
I mean really, what could be better?
Remember Ren and Stimpy? Remember the Happy Happy Joy Joy song (and yes, Stephen is the Ren to my Stimpy)? Of course you do! It was - and still is, in my mind - one of the coolest cartoons. EVAH.
Well, I'm doing the dance right now. Why? Because my Garmin FINALLY arrived!
*note, NOT my arm, nor my engagement ring! This watch is one of the coolest things I've ever seen. An equal mix of functional and badass, this watch does it all. It monitors my heart rate, it tells me how far and fast I'm running and more. I can program it for a specific workout/distance/pace.
Needless to say, I am so excited to take this watch out and see all it can do. Most importantly though, I am stoked that I won't have to calculate my route on Google Maps anymore to see how far I've run after the fact.
Guess what I got this weekend? Take a wild guess. Give up? Here's a hint: Remember earlier when I talked about getting old and wanting grown up toys? Well, this is a very grown up toy.
The need stemmed from the kitties shedding something fierce like I've never witnessed before*. The kitties are shedding so much I could swear they'll end up hairless in the next month. I mean, who knew they were so skinny? Anyway, you get the point about how much they've been shedding.
So what do you get when you mix 2/3 kitty fur, one part kitty litter and a house full of hardwood floors? Possibly the greatest invention ever made. EVAH! Seriously, this thing has everything anyone could ever want: an on/off button for the bristles on the base to easily go from vacuuming the area rug one minute, to gliding over hardwoods the next, a hands-free release canister so I don't have to dig out fur, and attachments that allow me to clean fur off the couch and comforter. See what I mean about the genius?
I've only vacuumed once since I bought the Dyson, but all indicators point to love.
*by before, I mean, before I came to Boston.
I was five when Thriller caught my attention, and every time it came on MTV (you know, back in the day when MTV was actually music.television?) I sat spellbound. That's no small feat for ADD-riddled kids who can't sit still for .5 seconds, let alone for the duration of a music video that went on FOR. E. VER. 
