I ran (walked) the Wasatch Speedgoat 50k on Saturday, and even though I kept trying to quit, Brad saw to it that I finished. He recruited Catherine and Roch to help me feel motivated and happy and strong, and at every aid station, at the top of every climb (and even at the bottom of some of them), he was right there with me. I'm lucky. Seeing his huge smile at the finish line made me want to work harder in everything I do.
I'm so glad I finished. I'm so proud right now. Maybe next time I'll actually train. I feel great now...imagine how I'd feel if I'd actually taken the race seriously and given it the respect it deserved...if I'd like, worn shorts with pockets, eaten food during the race or even carried more than one bottle of water....
The next day, July 22nd, was our 1st wedding anniversary, and after a wonderful weekend togehter - including brunch, climbing and swimming together on Sunday - I feel like we're teammates again.
7.23.2007
7.18.2007
A new level of WordNerd
http://wordsmith.org/anagram/index.html
An anagram for "Arnie" is "Near I," which he always is!
An anagram for Red Dog Barlage is "Labrador Egged," which is certainly what Red would do to a Labrador if he had opposable thumbs and could hurl eggs.
An anagram for "Arnie" is "Near I," which he always is!
An anagram for Red Dog Barlage is "Labrador Egged," which is certainly what Red would do to a Labrador if he had opposable thumbs and could hurl eggs.
7.17.2007
Homage to Humidity, Fall
The alarm sounded this morning, and I was jarred out of a horrible dream in which good friends (and a wonderful couple) were going through a divorce. I was shocked in the dream, mostly because they’re SO unlikely to ever split, and shocked BY the dream when I woke up, wondering why I come up with this awful stuff in my sleep.
After smacking “snooze” three times, I decided that all I really wanted out of the day was time to read. I didn’t want to go to work; I didn’t want to exercise. I just wanted quiet and books.
It’s cloudy today, offering a welcome reprieve from the searing, stifling heat. I know that complaining about the weather is, like, the LEAST productive thing in the world, and furthermore, I know it totally irritates my husband, but I just can’t help it! It’s too hot! It would be one thing if we lived in Phoenix and I was complaining about 100 degree temps, but we live spitting distance from the mountains that lay claim to “the greatest snow on Earth,” so why am I sweating by 7 am?
But today is cooler thanks to the clouds and a brief rain this morning. It’s even a little humid today, which is sweet relief after the dry-aired summer of itchy-scratchy skin. In honor of the Pennsylvania-summer weather we’re having, I got my East Coast on this morning, complete with pearls, an oxford shirt and flowery clogs that smack of summer camp and Scandinavia. It’s my default look, I’ve come to realize. It’s even more comfortable to me than yoga-wear (a close second), because East Coast girl look works even when I’m feeling fat, like today. (See above. No exercise makes me feel like I gained 40 pounds overnight.) Preppy with some roundness is almost expected, cute. Yoga-wear without the perfect bod is plain horrifying. Even if the yoga-wear in question is the otherwise perfect Lululemon Reverse Groove Pant.
The cloudy weather makes me think of J. Crew barn jackets, old jeans and hiking boots, pearls, shetland wool, grass, leaves. I’ll enjoy the final third of summer – no doubt about that – but part of me is already looking forward to Fall. To cool air coming down the canyons at night, to fires and wine and crunchy leaves underfoot. To climbing in the heat of the day then bundling up at night. To ski hats. Down vests. Wool socks. Woodsmoke.
After smacking “snooze” three times, I decided that all I really wanted out of the day was time to read. I didn’t want to go to work; I didn’t want to exercise. I just wanted quiet and books.
It’s cloudy today, offering a welcome reprieve from the searing, stifling heat. I know that complaining about the weather is, like, the LEAST productive thing in the world, and furthermore, I know it totally irritates my husband, but I just can’t help it! It’s too hot! It would be one thing if we lived in Phoenix and I was complaining about 100 degree temps, but we live spitting distance from the mountains that lay claim to “the greatest snow on Earth,” so why am I sweating by 7 am?
But today is cooler thanks to the clouds and a brief rain this morning. It’s even a little humid today, which is sweet relief after the dry-aired summer of itchy-scratchy skin. In honor of the Pennsylvania-summer weather we’re having, I got my East Coast on this morning, complete with pearls, an oxford shirt and flowery clogs that smack of summer camp and Scandinavia. It’s my default look, I’ve come to realize. It’s even more comfortable to me than yoga-wear (a close second), because East Coast girl look works even when I’m feeling fat, like today. (See above. No exercise makes me feel like I gained 40 pounds overnight.) Preppy with some roundness is almost expected, cute. Yoga-wear without the perfect bod is plain horrifying. Even if the yoga-wear in question is the otherwise perfect Lululemon Reverse Groove Pant.
The cloudy weather makes me think of J. Crew barn jackets, old jeans and hiking boots, pearls, shetland wool, grass, leaves. I’ll enjoy the final third of summer – no doubt about that – but part of me is already looking forward to Fall. To cool air coming down the canyons at night, to fires and wine and crunchy leaves underfoot. To climbing in the heat of the day then bundling up at night. To ski hats. Down vests. Wool socks. Woodsmoke.
7.16.2007
SILLY
Most people – especially in Utah – don’t know that I foster an intense love of all things silly. It overtakes me at times, cracking me up in the middle of a conversation, a meeting, an inopportune time. Most of the time it’s remembered references to my youth, when my brother and I lost it over the Muppets, Saturday Night Live, the Simpsons (“That’s where I saw the leprechaun…he told me to burn things!”). This clip, from Sesame Street, was – and remains – one of our favorites:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TT-2dkJxomM
I mean, the turtleneck? Hilarious.
We especially like when Kermit loses it and his arms go all floppy. Our recent faves include Arrested Development ("These are my awards, Mother, from Army. The Seal is for Marksmanship, and the Gorilla is for sand racing.”) and the Family Guy…these are hilarities I’ll probably never share with Brad; his sense of humor is usually fairly different than mine.I admire him for his focus and drive, and hopefully he’ll find reason to admire me for my ability to laugh myself to tears at a one-handed man-child born of a frigid alcoholic and a crook. Tears: a magician named Gob. Tears: Tobias. Brad seems to find the silly, well, silly, even as I delight in it.
But back to the Muppets, can you get over this one?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCbuRA_D3KU
Again, the turtlenecks are just too much.
Two nights ago, Brad and I were watching the Daily Show (I think we should be friends with Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert). In trying to explain how shabby his upbringings were, thus upstaging Obama at the 2004 Democratic National Convention, Colbert referenced his father, “the poor, Virginia turd farmer,” and his grandfather, “a goat ball licker.” Brad was laughing so hard he was emitting no sound at all, just rolling around on the floor and clutching his stomach. I laughed so hard I almost threw up.
Here’s my favorite writer right now: Jen Lancaster. I LAUGH out LOUD. Read her stuff; you will, too.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TT-2dkJxomM
I mean, the turtleneck? Hilarious.
We especially like when Kermit loses it and his arms go all floppy. Our recent faves include Arrested Development ("These are my awards, Mother, from Army. The Seal is for Marksmanship, and the Gorilla is for sand racing.”) and the Family Guy…these are hilarities I’ll probably never share with Brad; his sense of humor is usually fairly different than mine.I admire him for his focus and drive, and hopefully he’ll find reason to admire me for my ability to laugh myself to tears at a one-handed man-child born of a frigid alcoholic and a crook. Tears: a magician named Gob. Tears: Tobias. Brad seems to find the silly, well, silly, even as I delight in it.
But back to the Muppets, can you get over this one?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCbuRA_D3KU
Again, the turtlenecks are just too much.
Two nights ago, Brad and I were watching the Daily Show (I think we should be friends with Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert). In trying to explain how shabby his upbringings were, thus upstaging Obama at the 2004 Democratic National Convention, Colbert referenced his father, “the poor, Virginia turd farmer,” and his grandfather, “a goat ball licker.” Brad was laughing so hard he was emitting no sound at all, just rolling around on the floor and clutching his stomach. I laughed so hard I almost threw up.
Here’s my favorite writer right now: Jen Lancaster. I LAUGH out LOUD. Read her stuff; you will, too.
7.09.2007
The Good.
Recent:
Shopping for birdfeeders
Working in the garage together
Laughing while playing tennis
Forever:
Our special way of holding hands
Our dog’s voices
Our similar views on simplifying life
When he calls me “sweetie”
When he calls me back into bed because he needs snoogles
Shopping for birdfeeders
Working in the garage together
Laughing while playing tennis
Forever:
Our special way of holding hands
Our dog’s voices
Our similar views on simplifying life
When he calls me “sweetie”
When he calls me back into bed because he needs snoogles
6.22.2007
LOVE
Because it could end in a heartbeat
Because it could be over tomorrow
Because life is too short
A car accident
A bad fall
Because it’s easier to laugh
Because it’s more fun
Because you feel better
Because it just doesn’t matter enough
Holding a grudge
Being right
Proving a point
Because you’re best friends, and you’re in it together
Because it could be over tomorrow
Because life is too short
A car accident
A bad fall
Because it’s easier to laugh
Because it’s more fun
Because you feel better
Because it just doesn’t matter enough
Holding a grudge
Being right
Proving a point
Because you’re best friends, and you’re in it together
6.21.2007
6.08.2007
Skunked
Last night I went running in Mill Creek with Arnie, Red and Zambonie (a wonderful, skinny German Shepard who’s visiting us while her parents are living it up in Maui).
We’d covered about half a mile before coming upon one of the many empty pieces of pipe along the Pipeline Trail (hence...). Suddenly Red charged the pipe opening with a fervor I’ve never seen from the relatively mild-mannered Heeler. Something was in there, and Red didn’t like it.
It occurred to me as I considered the light rain and cold, muddy ground, that the pipe’s occupant could be a rattlesnake. (I was thinking, you see, of the episode of Meerkat Manor in which brave little Shakespeare gets attacked by a puff adder.)
“Red, COME!” No response. That’s odd for Red. With Arnie, I’m used to calling two, three, nine times. But Red almost always listens on the first call. This was worrisome, especially because Arnie was close behind, peering into the pipe behind his big brother.
(Zambonie, for the record, was 25 feet ahead of us on the trail, looking back at the boys, plainly annoyed.)
At once Red and Arnie tore into the pipe, chasing the creature that was now darting from the other end. A black creature, smallish. A black and white creature. With a long tail and a stripe on its ba....oh my god, my boys were just sprayed by a skunk.
Red flung himself on the ground in the aftermath of the spray, scooting his head in the dirt and rubbing his eyes. He seemed ashamed and disgusted, the continued self-flinging a form of beratement. “No need to punish him,” I thought. “He’s doing it for me.” Forlorn and wide-eyed, Red’s ears were back in submission.
I looked around for Arnie, assuming that he’d be reacting similarly. Typical, though, of my sweet, dopey little retriever, Arnie was sprawled in the middle of the trail eating a stick. “Arnie!” I said, surprised. He paused momentarily, looking up at me with his “I am a canine gargoyle” face, cocked his head, and went back to gnawing bark.
He didn’t seem to notice that he had just been sprayed by a skunk.
As Red continued a display that would have put the monks of Opus Dei to shame, Arnie rolled over onto his back with a “please scratch my belly” look.
Five baths, one scrub with a dubious sounding combo we found on the internet (hydrogen peroxide, liquid soap, baking powder), and a whole lot of hosing down later, the boys were allowed back into the house.
Arnie, completely unaffected by the spray, the baths, the hose and the banishment from the house, hopped onto the couch between us like nothing had happened. Red curled up on his bed and proceeded to whine for the next 24 hours.
We get it. He’s sorry.
We’d covered about half a mile before coming upon one of the many empty pieces of pipe along the Pipeline Trail (hence...). Suddenly Red charged the pipe opening with a fervor I’ve never seen from the relatively mild-mannered Heeler. Something was in there, and Red didn’t like it.
It occurred to me as I considered the light rain and cold, muddy ground, that the pipe’s occupant could be a rattlesnake. (I was thinking, you see, of the episode of Meerkat Manor in which brave little Shakespeare gets attacked by a puff adder.)
“Red, COME!” No response. That’s odd for Red. With Arnie, I’m used to calling two, three, nine times. But Red almost always listens on the first call. This was worrisome, especially because Arnie was close behind, peering into the pipe behind his big brother.
(Zambonie, for the record, was 25 feet ahead of us on the trail, looking back at the boys, plainly annoyed.)
At once Red and Arnie tore into the pipe, chasing the creature that was now darting from the other end. A black creature, smallish. A black and white creature. With a long tail and a stripe on its ba....oh my god, my boys were just sprayed by a skunk.
Red flung himself on the ground in the aftermath of the spray, scooting his head in the dirt and rubbing his eyes. He seemed ashamed and disgusted, the continued self-flinging a form of beratement. “No need to punish him,” I thought. “He’s doing it for me.” Forlorn and wide-eyed, Red’s ears were back in submission.
I looked around for Arnie, assuming that he’d be reacting similarly. Typical, though, of my sweet, dopey little retriever, Arnie was sprawled in the middle of the trail eating a stick. “Arnie!” I said, surprised. He paused momentarily, looking up at me with his “I am a canine gargoyle” face, cocked his head, and went back to gnawing bark.
He didn’t seem to notice that he had just been sprayed by a skunk.
As Red continued a display that would have put the monks of Opus Dei to shame, Arnie rolled over onto his back with a “please scratch my belly” look.
Five baths, one scrub with a dubious sounding combo we found on the internet (hydrogen peroxide, liquid soap, baking powder), and a whole lot of hosing down later, the boys were allowed back into the house.
Arnie, completely unaffected by the spray, the baths, the hose and the banishment from the house, hopped onto the couch between us like nothing had happened. Red curled up on his bed and proceeded to whine for the next 24 hours.
We get it. He’s sorry.
More Funny, 2
I also adore:
http://birdchick.com/adventures/rabbit/index.html
(That’s the “disapproving rabbits” site)
And:
www.cuteoverload.com
I believe I’m turning into my grandmother. But without the shrinking. Yet.
And this:
www.someecards.com
It’s just so funny....
http://birdchick.com/adventures/rabbit/index.html
(That’s the “disapproving rabbits” site)
And:
www.cuteoverload.com
I believe I’m turning into my grandmother. But without the shrinking. Yet.
And this:
www.someecards.com
It’s just so funny....
Make Funny
Other Peoples’ Blogs are funnier than mine. Maybe I’m using this tool the wrong way. Maybe it’d be better to use this blog to make me laugh, which seems to be all it takes to settle me down. Well, laughter + not feeling fat.
Mostly not feeling fat.
But laughter is good, too.
The following make me laugh out loud:
Get Fuzzy
Anything from Seth McFarlane
David Sedaris
Amy Sedaris
Kids in the Hall
Braincandy
The State
Larry David
Arrested Development
David Rakoff
The Onion
Dooce.com - and she's in Salt Lake!
The Daily Show
Steven Colbert
General silliness of any kind
Mostly not feeling fat.
But laughter is good, too.
The following make me laugh out loud:
Get Fuzzy
Anything from Seth McFarlane
David Sedaris
Amy Sedaris
Kids in the Hall
Braincandy
The State
Larry David
Arrested Development
David Rakoff
The Onion
Dooce.com - and she's in Salt Lake!
The Daily Show
Steven Colbert
General silliness of any kind
6.07.2007
Charm
It’s easy – that crinkly-eyed smile, slight turn of the head. When I give it I know exactly what I’m doing, which leads me to think that others’ might, too.
When I get it, though, when I see it from Brad, it opens my heart right up before I have a chance to stop it.
When Brad throws his head back and starts to laugh, it’s that millisecond before sound comes out, that short intake of breath, that’s when it happens. That’s when I’m charmed completely and uncontrollably. When I know I’ve made him laugh, when he’s delighted. That’s what does it for me.
Laughter, I’m realizing, is everything for me.
When I get it, though, when I see it from Brad, it opens my heart right up before I have a chance to stop it.
When Brad throws his head back and starts to laugh, it’s that millisecond before sound comes out, that short intake of breath, that’s when it happens. That’s when I’m charmed completely and uncontrollably. When I know I’ve made him laugh, when he’s delighted. That’s what does it for me.
Laughter, I’m realizing, is everything for me.
6.04.2007
Don't be like this...
"The ones who don’t do anything are always the ones who try to pull you down."
-Henry Rollins
Instead, be supportive. Be compassionate. Be a friend.
This is a good one to remember.
-Henry Rollins
Instead, be supportive. Be compassionate. Be a friend.
This is a good one to remember.
Older and Wiser
Earth Verse
-Gary Snyder
Wide enough to keep you looking
Open enough to keep you moving
Dry enough to keep you honest
Prickly enough to make you tough
Green enough to go on living
Old enough to give you dreams
Because there’s always something bigger, something more powerful, something that matters a hell of a lot more than the reason for the tears or hopelessness.
And even after dark, when old demons come calling and fear fills the hollows, the truth is: it’s fine. Breathe. Stretch. Love and love fearlessly. Allow yourself to be vulnerable without thinking that your vulnerability will last forever. Allow yourself to move past anger without thinking that you have to be right. When it comes down to it, it doesn't matter who's right. What matters is that at the end of the day, there's love, friendship and compassion.
Allow yourself to trust completely.
-Gary Snyder
Wide enough to keep you looking
Open enough to keep you moving
Dry enough to keep you honest
Prickly enough to make you tough
Green enough to go on living
Old enough to give you dreams
Because there’s always something bigger, something more powerful, something that matters a hell of a lot more than the reason for the tears or hopelessness.
And even after dark, when old demons come calling and fear fills the hollows, the truth is: it’s fine. Breathe. Stretch. Love and love fearlessly. Allow yourself to be vulnerable without thinking that your vulnerability will last forever. Allow yourself to move past anger without thinking that you have to be right. When it comes down to it, it doesn't matter who's right. What matters is that at the end of the day, there's love, friendship and compassion.
Allow yourself to trust completely.
5.11.2007
Boulder
I’m missing Boulder terribly. Running up Flagstaff and through the Flatirons. Soloing the Second. Walking up to the West Ridge and seeing dozens of friends, of people I knew and liked. This is back when I felt confident. I felt in control. Back then, I wasn’t afraid of women. I was a fearless climber and my skills were continually on the rise. I was a good trad climber and I had a wonderful network of friends to climb with.
Did being single have something to do with it? That confidence? I liked climbing and knew I was good at it. I don’t like it here. I’m not good here. I don’t like the women Brad admires, I don’t like that he suggests I climb with them.
I hated Boulder at times. I was so lonely some nights. I felt so unhip when walking past Rhumba or any of those trio/trilogy/triad bars. I felt poor the entire time I lived there.
How would it be now to live in Boulder? How would it be to live there with Brad? How would it be to run the Mesa Trail with Arnie, to live near Megan and Deanne and my old friends who I love and admire and can be around so comfortably? It’s been so long since I’ve felt comfortable with a female friend; I don’t seem to relax around anyone here. I don’t get down to what’s going on. I probably don’t even know.
I miss that route next to the Yellow Spur – Vertigo? I miss the Rincon Wall in fall. I miss walking past Black Lake in the Park. I miss climbing with Cindy and I miss the Diamond. I miss feeling like the whole world – all I need - is right there, from wall to wall in that cirque.
I miss bouldering after work on Flagstaff, even though I never sent one single problem ever.
And today I’m remembering the strangest things: that red dress, the birthday party for Robbie, Leonard drunk on the couch, Laura and John, the second pitch of Pony Express, running with Steph, those tickets for parking on the wrong side of the street, Keira, Stevo’s toothbrush in the kitchen, the second pitch of the casual route, climbing with Leah in Boulder Canyon, Zack, that friend of Herman’s with the bikes, Julie and Kevin, climbing Rain and Shine with Brian, Cairo, Ed Lyman, the bivy below Spearhead, the Keyboard, bouldering with Mike Brooks almost every night, Elvis, that guy Ron, learning to be alone, learning that I didn’t want to always be alone.
Did being single have something to do with it? That confidence? I liked climbing and knew I was good at it. I don’t like it here. I’m not good here. I don’t like the women Brad admires, I don’t like that he suggests I climb with them.
I hated Boulder at times. I was so lonely some nights. I felt so unhip when walking past Rhumba or any of those trio/trilogy/triad bars. I felt poor the entire time I lived there.
How would it be now to live in Boulder? How would it be to live there with Brad? How would it be to run the Mesa Trail with Arnie, to live near Megan and Deanne and my old friends who I love and admire and can be around so comfortably? It’s been so long since I’ve felt comfortable with a female friend; I don’t seem to relax around anyone here. I don’t get down to what’s going on. I probably don’t even know.
I miss that route next to the Yellow Spur – Vertigo? I miss the Rincon Wall in fall. I miss walking past Black Lake in the Park. I miss climbing with Cindy and I miss the Diamond. I miss feeling like the whole world – all I need - is right there, from wall to wall in that cirque.
I miss bouldering after work on Flagstaff, even though I never sent one single problem ever.
And today I’m remembering the strangest things: that red dress, the birthday party for Robbie, Leonard drunk on the couch, Laura and John, the second pitch of Pony Express, running with Steph, those tickets for parking on the wrong side of the street, Keira, Stevo’s toothbrush in the kitchen, the second pitch of the casual route, climbing with Leah in Boulder Canyon, Zack, that friend of Herman’s with the bikes, Julie and Kevin, climbing Rain and Shine with Brian, Cairo, Ed Lyman, the bivy below Spearhead, the Keyboard, bouldering with Mike Brooks almost every night, Elvis, that guy Ron, learning to be alone, learning that I didn’t want to always be alone.
2.08.2007
A Force of Nature
To be happy is one thing - the even keel, the come and go, the ease.
But to be a force of nature - to will things to happen. To decide the here and now....
Nonetheless, right now, putting myself out there, looking for a new job, trying to make things happen, to make magic, to make it rain....it's hard and scary and I don't know if it's even possible unless I keep believing I can make it happen....
I pitched myself to a firm today, only to find out that its principal is deeply aligned with the Utah Republican Party... .
It's hard, but there are harder things to overcome....My life is easy compared to 99.999% of the rest.
But to be a force of nature - to will things to happen. To decide the here and now....
Nonetheless, right now, putting myself out there, looking for a new job, trying to make things happen, to make magic, to make it rain....it's hard and scary and I don't know if it's even possible unless I keep believing I can make it happen....
I pitched myself to a firm today, only to find out that its principal is deeply aligned with the Utah Republican Party... .
It's hard, but there are harder things to overcome....My life is easy compared to 99.999% of the rest.
1.30.2007
Terrible and Unthinkable
Chris Hunnicutt died today. Our friend, our housemate, our new brother. He was climbing the Stairway to Heaven in Provo Canyon. He was out of screws and running it out. He was level with the anchor (tree) and traversing toward it when he came off and fell upwards of 120 feet. He landed on his head and by all accounts, was killed immediately.
I am sad for Chris, who was sweet and gentle and kind and humble. I am sad for his family - his brother, Paul, and his parents. They were very close. Paul flew in to Salt Lake tongiht; Brad and Courtney (one of Chris's close friends) just left to pick him up.
I am so angry at the universe for taking another good one. What about the pedophiles, the rapists? Why take Chris? And as I type I'm struck by the audacity of calling the universe out on something - like I expect the universe to subscribe to my structure of fairness. It's anthropomorphizing to an utmost.
I am sad for Chris, who was sweet and gentle and kind and humble. I am sad for his family - his brother, Paul, and his parents. They were very close. Paul flew in to Salt Lake tongiht; Brad and Courtney (one of Chris's close friends) just left to pick him up.
I am so angry at the universe for taking another good one. What about the pedophiles, the rapists? Why take Chris? And as I type I'm struck by the audacity of calling the universe out on something - like I expect the universe to subscribe to my structure of fairness. It's anthropomorphizing to an utmost.
1.28.2007
TTW WOW
This morning, Terry Tempest Williams spoke at a bi-Annual meeting of Conservation Alliance members. Without a doubt the most powerful and engaging speaker I've ever heard, TTW rapt the audience instantly and gracefully as she fused poetry and fiction with personal stories of sadness and triumph.
Her powerful and careful words made me want to write more, read more, use words more. I was shaking when I walked up to her after the talk. I asked her to sign my 11-year old copy of Refuge - first given to me at 18, a freshman in college and unaware that a book could take such hold of me - on one of my favorite pages.
It was a breathtaking morning. It got me thinking of my favorite work by Edward Abbey, "The Journey Home." She mentioned, this morning, "Natural Resources" by Adrienne Rich, which I'd also like to check out. I also want to read "Words That Work" and one other, though I can't think of it now.
It was a good day, made so largely, I'm sure, by the long run that started the morning. In the dark, up City Creek Canyon, with Megan, talking about the future, our jobs, the environment and politics.
Her powerful and careful words made me want to write more, read more, use words more. I was shaking when I walked up to her after the talk. I asked her to sign my 11-year old copy of Refuge - first given to me at 18, a freshman in college and unaware that a book could take such hold of me - on one of my favorite pages.
It was a breathtaking morning. It got me thinking of my favorite work by Edward Abbey, "The Journey Home." She mentioned, this morning, "Natural Resources" by Adrienne Rich, which I'd also like to check out. I also want to read "Words That Work" and one other, though I can't think of it now.
It was a good day, made so largely, I'm sure, by the long run that started the morning. In the dark, up City Creek Canyon, with Megan, talking about the future, our jobs, the environment and politics.
1.14.2007
1.07.2007
Ow. Part Deux.
I had the option tonight to go to a lecture by a Sudanese Refugee. He was speaking about his escape from Sudan. He wrote a book.
Alternatively, I opted for dinner at India House and an evening of the first season of House....Maybe I made the wrong choice. The selfish choice. The easy choice?
But my lower back still hurts.
Alternatively, I opted for dinner at India House and an evening of the first season of House....Maybe I made the wrong choice. The selfish choice. The easy choice?
But my lower back still hurts.
How do people spend their days?
I tried to ski this morning, skinned for about 20 minutes. The pain in my lower back spread from the left side to both sides. Striding uphill, big steps on steeper terrain especially, caused lots of pain. What did I do to myself? What caused this pain?
I know how minor this is. I know that I'm very well off considering the pain that other people are put through in this world.
Nonetheless, I'm bored to tears. I don't know what to do with myself when I'm not exercising. not outside doing something or driving to do something....
I'm laying low. Watching Little Miss Sunshine - SO GOOD!!!! - and hoping my back gets better soon.....
I know how minor this is. I know that I'm very well off considering the pain that other people are put through in this world.
Nonetheless, I'm bored to tears. I don't know what to do with myself when I'm not exercising. not outside doing something or driving to do something....
I'm laying low. Watching Little Miss Sunshine - SO GOOD!!!! - and hoping my back gets better soon.....
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