20 years is a long f-ing time

Let us escape to the 4th dimension so I can jump around wildly in time.

*shaky camera focuses on lame spiral while the hallmark 1960's-going-back-in-time-'doooo dooo dooo' music plays* 

It is March 31, 2011 

OK, I will give you that it is lame to go back in time for just a few days, but I had NO time to write and you, dear reader, got to dust off your white go-go boots and hear the 1960's time machine 'doooo dooo doooo' music, so quit your bitching. 

In my ten year old mind I looked like Nancy Sinatra in my go-go boots,... 

 but in reality I had more of a Miss Piggy thing going on. Whatevs.

It is important that this post be written on that exact date because March 31, 2011 is the day I celebrate 20 years clean and sober.

Side Note: Feel free to skip my self-congratulatory, mental vomitus and go to the end of this post. There is an announcement that you  DO NOT WANT TO MISS.

I will not go into a long, sappy monologue about how my life used to be and how much it changed over the time I have been clean (I did that last year for my 19 years if you are really interested) instead, I wanted to contrast my life today to the last time I celebrated this particular birthday.


Yes,that means you have to get back in the time machine. Get a move on, please...

 Time Machine from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, circa 1989. This came out two years before I got clean so, yes, I was high as hell when I watched it. That is pretty much the required mental condition to endure any Keanu Reeves film anyway. 

So March 31, 2010...

My husband had recently been diagnosed with aggressive prostate cancer, he had just started on hormone deprivation therapy (essentially chemical castration to stop the progression of the cancer cells), he was depressed and scared, and I was so terrified I thought I would lose my fucking mind. 

Then 2010 started to throw me curve ball after curve ball. The one downside to having wonderful people in your life that you love so much it makes you feel like your heart will stop is that when something bad happens to them you actually give a shit. That is painful and I am not a fan of feeling pain or most of the emotions associated with fearing for a loved one.   

 I would love to tell you that I trudged bravely through all of the events of the last year with warrior-like stoicism, but, truthfully, I was a mess. Just a hot, fucking mess. I was closer to throwing it all away this time last year than I had ever been in the 19 years prior.  

I have many people, including many that read this blog, to thank for helping me scoop up that hot mess, put it in a bag, and keep moving forward. Through this we both found that we had been taking a lot of things for granted and recommitted to both each other and the thing  that made all of the rest of our life possible and eventually, and yes, I am sorry to say it, but 'one day at a time', (it is ok for you to roll your eyes. I do when I hear that cornball cliche) I got to today. Today is pretty goddamn good. It ain't perfect, but it is pretty goddamn good.

Today on March 31, 2011, hubby has completed treatment, is doing well, and is slowly getting back to where he feels like his old self.  The rest of my friends and family are healthy and happy. My best friend in all the world is going to have a baby sometime very, very soon. 

And me? I feel like the 6-ton elephant that was sitting on my chest has finally moved off. He will occasionally stand in the middle of the room as a reminder that we have still some major stuff going on, but at least I feel like I can breathe again. 

I searched for images of 'elephant on my chest' and this came up. It never ceases to amaze me what idiots will have permanently inked on their skin. 

"Give me a call in 15 years, Sweetie, when that elephant looks more like a giraffe."

All in all, I had a great birthday and celebrated with friends. They even got me my favorite cake (Yes, Jo Lynn, I know owe you one of these cakes. I swear someday I will get you one!) 

From Aki's Bakery in San Jose. It is white cake with whipped cream frosting and fresh strawberries and whip cream in the center. It does not sounds like the over-the-top decadent you have grown accustomed to on Run Bitch Run, but believe me it is SCREAMIN' !! 

Ok, back in the time machine for the for the BIG news...

Now we are back at Tuesday, March 29, 2011. 

I would like to introduce the newest member of our family

LOLA! 

 This was taken about 15 minutes after we adopted her. I look like shit on a stick. Taking pictures of a nervous, wiggling puppy with piece of shit Palm Pixie cell phone camera, was harder than you would think and I imagine you think it would be pretty hard. I had to kind of squish her and it is still blurry. I have lots of shots of the car seat and the side of her body if you want to see those.

She is a ~1 year old chihuahua mix that we adopted from STAR Rescue. (I found her by searching on Petfinder.com. An easily searchable website that rescue organizations and shelters from all over the country can advertise their pets available for adoption on for free.) We do not know much about her life before she ended up in rescue, but she was on the street and did not do well in the shelter and a very kind woman named Elizabeth from STAR Rescue came to foster her.

Steppin' out at the park this morning. 

She is tiny (MUCH smaller than I ever thought I would have. 5.25 lbs.) she is a little shy, but I will make a trail dog out of her. This weekend I focused on letting her settle in and we went to the park twice a day, and to an event held at Downtown Dogs called a Small Dog Social.  (yes, I am one of THOSE people. When anyone asks, "Who spends money on shit like that for their dog?" I am that 'who'.)

 Hanging with her big sister, Lucy. I LOVE Lucy's body language in this picture. I put her in a stay and that stance is how she could technically be in a stay to get her treat and still be as far away from the puppy as possible.

The Small Dog Social was a lot of fun and I was really proud of how well Lola did. We will go back next weekend. I am also going to take her out on the trails either this week or next weekend and start getting her used to running with me. So expect puppy pictures ad nauseum. I am also checking out different dog trainers and we will start puppy classes on April 20th.

I had minor surgery last week, but it was enough to keep me off the treadmill. I am going to try my first run tomorrow and see how I am feeling. The next run I am planning on right now is the WildCat 1/2 Marathon on April 30.

Recent things that made my heart happy

Sometimes I am overwhelmed by the truly amazing things and people in my life. I did absolutely nothing to deserve any of it. As a matter of fact, for a good portion of my life I actively campaigned to ensure that my life would be as miserable as possible, but nonetheless, there are times when I get that 'almost can't breathe' feeling that I recognize as my soul smiling.

I always felt that Charles Schultz captured pure joy in this image. Yeah, yeah, it is corny. Bite me. 

1. The sound of my husband and dog snoring in stereo. It is a safe, content, reassuring sound.  

(Ok, in the interest of proving that this post is not the work of some pollyanna hacking RBR's blog and blowing smoke up your collective asses, this particular "appreciation" is situational. There are times when that sound makes me I want to shove my fingers up his nostrils until he thrashes violently awake, but tonight it is a safe and reassuring sound.)

2. This post.  

Even if you could give two shits about the Phillies, and I certainly fall into that camp, your soul is just a little dead and, really, you may be a fucking sociopath if reading that post does not make you misty eyed and restore your faith in humankind.

3. It is looking more and more like R is going to graduate. He tries to act like he is not proud and it is no big deal, but his little boy smile belies that. I can't talk when he does that. It makes a lump in my throat.

I have never written about R and will only do so in an abstract way now, but he was in my class three years ago and is now a senior. He is one of many of my students that got dealt a crapfest of a hand in life. High school graduation was never assumed for him. It was never viewed as the insignificant stepping stone to college as it was for me and many other people.  He wears the uniform of the apathetic, thug-ish teen, but underneath that scraggly-ass ponytail, oversized black sweatshirt, and absurdly sagging jeans, is a really great human. I am already stocking up on Kleenex. I am going to be a blubbering mess when that kid crosses the stage to Pomp and Circumstance. He will be the first in his family to graduate from high school on time, with a full fledged diploma (not a GED), no children, and no (significant) police record.

4.  The pink rhinoceros/dragon thing that sits on my desk and Eddy bought me at the grocery store that was trying to offload leftover Valentine's Day crap. 

He does not realize that he bought it for me on our 20th anniversary. He just thought it would make me smile. I like having someone that thinks about me like that. I also like the thought of my bad ass, tattooed husband walking through the store carrying a pink rhinoceros/dragon thing.  (In his defense, our 20th anniversary date is a tad arbitrary and was hallmarked 20 years ago by being the day I left the guy I was seeing for Eddy. I viewed men like jobs, you do not live the old one until you have a new one. I know, tacky. Lighten up, Mr/Ms Judgey-pants, I was 21.)

5. Tuesday I had one of those effortless, completely pain-free runs.

It was not far, it was not fast, it was even on the fucking treadmill, but it was a 'I can run like this forever!' run. Glorious. I needed one of those. I call those runs the 'first crack hit' of running. For those of you that do not smoke crack (*eyeroll* Squares!) the first crack hit is the only good one (from what I am told) and it is what keeps addicts chasing the high. After that, you start to suffer holding on to the delusion that if you keep doing it you will feel that way again (and subsequently, you blow your rent money, your kid's college fund, 75% of your brain cells, start bargaining with your dealer about how much he will give you for a kidney.... you know, every hobby has its price)

Ok, enough of that, I am even making myself a little ill.

The vile, the verminous, and the vacuous*

The little bastards got me sick again. I have only been sick once this year, and being as how high school teachers are second only to pre-school teachers and inner city needle exchange program volunteers in their exposure to an inconceivable number of pathogens, that is a bloody miracle (RBR now swearing in multiple dialects!). 

However, I feel as if I must add, my snottastic self may be why I did not run this morning, but it is NOT why I have not run in a little over 2 weeks.  I did have gum surgery which was, in a word, FUCKED. (Shut up, G) But I am not sure why I have not run other than that.

Therefore, in the interest of getting my famously, fat fanny*: 1. less fat and 2. back out on the trail where it belongs, I thought I would out my lethargic self  (Again, shut it, G) on the old blog since it is here gathering dust.

In lieu of running, I offer you randomness...

Things I wish I had said recently....

1. "Wait, let me stop your blowing sunshine up my ass. If you are complimenting me as a way to segue into asking me to be on any committees, advisory councils, development boards, working groups, or planning boards the answer is...

...NOT ON YOUR MOTHERFUCKING LIFE!

But thank you for thinking of me."

What I actually said was: Sure. I can do that.  Fucking hell.

2. "Why, yes, I have lost weight, thank you for noticing. What? That is not what you meant by 'Man, you look tired'? My mistake. I thought you were a socially competent person."

What I actually said was: *awkward laugh* I guess I have been burning the candle at both ends.  *awkward laugh*

3. "Stepping closer to me and talking louder does not make you right. It makes you a fucking asshole, but it does not make you right."

What I actually said was: I guess we should agree to disagree. What a pussy I am *eyeroll*

4. "No, thank you, I do not want any today, but I would like to be able to enter the grocery store without feeling like I am selling children into the sex slave trade by not buying any of your fucking cookies."

What I actually said was: Sure. I will take 4 boxes. Fucking Girl Scout Gestapo



*My apologies to known self-blog title-loathing, alliteration hater, SQ.

Is it a sin....?

To covet thy neighbor's dog?

Meet my sponsor's new puppy Luna (short for lunatic)

 Taken on her first hike with Auntie RBR. Some say "Auntie", some say "puppynapper". Toe-may-toe, Toe-mah-toe. 

 Luna is an 8-month old, terrier mix puppy that my sponsor adopted from NARF (Nike Animal Rescue Foundation). She is stubborn, crazy, destructive, and I am totally and completely IN. LOVE. WITH. HER.

Couldn't you just die of the cuteness? Yes, I am holding a dog snack above her nose, but I prefer to think she would look just as adoringly at me without it.

My sponsor lost Roadie, her 11 year old Rhodesian Ridgeback mix, about 4 months ago when he suddenly went into liver failure, stopped eating and had to be euthanized. Not to speak ill of the dead, and if you have read this blog you know that animals are very important to me, I love them all, but her dog, ....

was a seriously dangerous, NUT JOB.

Let's just say, that if anyone less kind, loving, and compassionate than my sponsor owned him he would have been guarding the gates of hell a LONG time ago.  In the interest of fairness, she has been my sponsor for almost 20 years now, I imagine if I had not also found her, you could say the very same thing about me.

My sponsor picked up Roadie (on the road, hence the name. Plus her husband is in a band. I know, I rolled my eyes too at the "coolness") as a lost 4 month old puppy. She was headed out of town for the weekend, so she asked me to take care of him for a few days. In that time I could tell that Roadie, even as a young puppy, had some dominance and aggression issues and I warned her that it was imperative that he be trained and socialized or he would be a problem. As it turned out, I was right. REALLY right.

Boston Terrier doing his best Anthony Hopkins. Priceless. Difference is Roadie was almost 100 pounds of psychopathic pooch.

My sponsor grew up on a farm where you let dogs, be dogs and she did not really see the importance of training. She also thought I was a bit obsessive about training with Lucy and that Lucy was overly controlled by me.

Not to be snarky, but I can have people over to my house and I am reasonably confident my dog will not rip their throats out if they make eye contact with her. If that is "overly controlled" I am ok with that.

 OK, fine, maybe she is a wee bit 'overly controlled.'

Anyhoo.... my sponsor wanted to avoid having that type of dog in her home for the next 11 years, so I was THRILLED that when she was ready to adopt she told me repeatedly that she would listen to anything I said and wanted me to help her pick her new dog.

Enter, Luna

We met her at a pet fair and she was the perfect dog for my sponsor and her family and ...

...for me. *sigh*

Before our hike we did a short walk at the park with Ms. Lucy (At 13 years young, Lucy is not much of a hiker anymore, but she was a BEAST in her day) and Luna was a perfect respectful young lady. She could blend right in to the family.

See?! She loves me!

Like the wingman that watches his buddy leave with the hot girl he spotted first and chatted up while screening for signs of excess emotional baggage or Fatal Attraction tendencies, I must sit idly by and watch MY dog go to puppy class with my sponsor. 

I have a full blown case of puppy fever.

 Hubby says, 'no', but this ain't my first rodeo. Stay tuned.

I am not okay.

The following is a conversation with a coworker that has been known to describe me to others as an 'unstable hot-head', but before you shed too many tears at my expense, I have been known to describe him to him as a 'self-important prick.'

I am more of a cut-out-the-middle-man kind of gal when it comes to gossip and slander, and quite possibly an unstable, hot-head.

SIP: Hi, RBR! How are you? (He is not excited to see me, he needs something. Usually, if we are unfortunate enough to make eye contact we exchange head nods.)

RBR *struggling to get copy machine to accept the science department code*: I am fine. How are you, SIP?

SIP: Good, but, boy, I am sooooo busy.... [goes into long winded soliloquy about all the meetings and activities he is doing this year, in typical martyred teacher fashion. I would list them for you, but I stopped listening immediately after asking my question]

RBR *muttering to copier as it eats my originals*: Motherfucking, piece of shit....

I start repeatedly pressing clear button with more vehemence than is really necessary

SIP: You sure you are ok?

RBR: I am fine. What can I do for you?

I kick copier as it jams and the screen gives me convoluted instructions as to how to make it happy again. "Open door at 'A', slide 'B' to the right, to clear paper passage at 'C', while standing on one leg and reciting the Gettysburg Address in Swahili...."

SIP: As I think you know, I am on the Blah, blah, blah committee, where we sit around pontificate, kiss each other's asses, and never accomplish a fucking thing other than to waste time and try to sound important, ... Well, we have our meetings on Thursdays. I was wondering if you could cover my [insert his laundry list of  Thursday night afterhours commitments] the first of which is tonight.

(ok, he did not say all that but he did try to offload THREE commitments in one fell swoop, which is very assholish, IMHO)


Meanwhile the copier refuses to take three of my originals and starts printing tests are missing 3 pages while making a godawful noise.

RBR: GODDAMN IT!

I punch the copier lid hard enough to make the godawful noise worsen. 


Super

I start to bang my head on the copier.

RBR *turns to SIP, now looking like I am going to cry*: What? What do you want me to do for you?

SIP: Uh, nothing,but I don't think you are 'ok', though. 

I think it is important to note that my personal life has taken a bit of a hit as of late, I was up at my latest weigh in, I am about to start my period, and it is raining today. The later is significant in that California schools do not have enclosed hallways. They are little more than glorified overhangs. Therefore, if it is windy your journey to the main office results in you getting soaked through and the rain plastering your bangs to your forehead giving you the oh-so-hot drown rat appearance. Plus my extra warm fleece is no longer 'extra warm' and smells a bit like wet dog. It is currently 6:45 am. *sigh*

Fine. I am not okay, but at least I do not have any extra Thursday night duties to cover. Being an unstable, hot-head has its advantages.

Race Report: Coyote Hills 10k trail Run - January 29 , 2011

Two Saturday's ago I ran Brazen Racing's Coyote Hills 10k with my buddy Jo Lynn. It was a great race

(Full disclosure: It was a tad over crowded for my taste. I have no idea what the costs of putting on a race like this and trying to eek out a living are, so I am not going to judge how many sign ups they allowed. But I will say I would have preferred less people on a course that had an out and back trail section. As usual though, they had plenty of support and the race ran as smoothly as I have come to expect from their races, but it felt more like a crowded road race than a trail race IMHO)

Jo Lynn and I posing with the Dumbarton Rock Quarry (aka a big, fucking hole in the ground) behind us.

After 2 weeks of spring-like weather here in California I was having trouble adjusting to the cold. (I am certain that those of you who had to chisel your way out of your homes to go to work after last week's ice storms back east are flipping me off right now. My apologies. The ridiculous property taxes on my 900 sq ft house would make you feel better, I assure you.)

I do not have much to say about this race. It was nice. I love running with Jo Lynn.  I got to see my buddies Ron and Katie (who have thrown my old, fat ass over and now run together without me. hmpf). But were there any funny stories? Not really.

RBR, Katie, and Jo Lynn *

*Yes, I cropped the shit out of this picture. There was a concern I would be charged with spandex abuse for what those poor shorts had to do to cover my ass.  

*Notably missing Ron and RBR pic* 

I do not have a cute pic of Ron and I to post. I am not self confident enough to post pictures that I can not crop into acceptability. Sorry. Next race big guy!

I did not even get an It's It after the race. *collective Awwwww! from the audience*

Let me clarify, lest you think that either 1. I was too slow, even at the 10k distance, to finish before they ran out of It's Its. or  2. I found "God," have sworn off all high fat, low nutrient foods,  opting to "fuel" my body and eat only for function not pleasure, choosing lean meats and dark, leafy gree...

Hoo! I can not even type that with a straight face!  

So, no. That is not why. Actually, I am doing pretty well on my diet and 6 miles is not enough calorie burn to justify the 340 calories and 18 grams of fat in an It's It. (Ok, I will be totally honest I just looked that fact up.  I thought it was more like 600 calories and had I known it was only 340 I may have gone for it. So Brazen, keep an Its It on ice for me at the next race)

Reminder of the ice cream-y deliciousness that is an It's It!

Reminders of why I do my job/In case you forgot I was a nerd

I often bitch and moan about my job, but occasionally I get reminders of how really, really cool my job is.

End of the semester gift: My students presented me with an end of the semester gift. It was supposed to be a Christmas gift, but it did not arrive in time. Yes, loving this shirt as much as I do makes me a nerd. The fact that I wear it ALL THE TIME makes me an uber-nerd! I an ok with that

How awesome is this shirt?!

At last weekend's lab (To my fellow teachers: Yes, my students are so dedicated they come in on Saturday morning to do labs! It is ok to hate me.)

The students created squash prep slides of garlic root tips and then stained them to look at the phases of Mitosis. This is not as easy as it sounds. In a world of such easy access to excellent visual images made by the most advanced technology, students are often underwhelmed by what we can create in the classroom. It is a different story when they get to struggle to with tougher techniques like doing a squash prep thing enough to see individual cells yet not so hard that you create a hot mess of cell parts, or driving stain through the cell wall of plant cells to stain the DNA without destroying the rest of the cell and turning the whole damn thing blue, which was their task for one part of the lab:

Student *grumbles*: This is my fourth slide! If it is messed up again, can I just Google it to draw the picture?

Ms. RBR *looking through microscope*: DUDE! (I know, I am the paragon of professionalism) That is beautiful! Let me get my camera!

Student *trying to hide proud smile*: Finally. God.

Ms. RBR *taking a picture of the microscope field*: Quit whining and look. (Ok, and paragon of patience as well)

Student *looking into scope*: Whoa. That is kind of cool.Can you email me that picture? I want to show my mom.

Taken with my pink point and shoot camera that I just held up to the eyepiece. Pretty cool, huh? The pointer is on a cell in telophase of mitosis.

Bits and pieces:

My heart is breaking for a dear friend going through a very tough time. I think they know I would do anything to make it better, but I guess that only time can do that. Love to you, buddy.

LA Run buddy is now well into her third trimester. Due date is April 16th. She is uncomfortable as one would expect with an almost 8 month old human nestled within her intestines, and routinely doing the macarena on her bladder. She still exercises 4 times a week, works like a beast, and is the funniest and most loving and beautiful person I know. I have to throw a fucking baby shower and I hate attending baby showers, much less throwing one, but since I do not have to make the human or push it out my hoo ha I will keep my whining about it to a minimum.

My depression is improving.

Jo Lynn and I ran a great 8 miler yesterday (ok, 'great' is strong. I tried to bail at 3 miles and she would not let me, but we got it done) and are running the PCTR 20k at Lake Chabot on February 20th.

I have chosen a spring marathon Avenue of the Giants Marathon on May 1st.  (Although, I would rather be heading to Wisconsin to run Diana's first marathon with her *sniff* I just can not make it happen this year. I will be there in spirit, girl! You will rock it!)


Ok, that is enough randomness for one day...

When we last left our hero....

Sorry about my impromptu hiatus. I just got a tad overwhelmed with work and such. I did want to post an update since I am sure you all have been losing sleep wondering what the hell has been going on in my FASCINATING life:

1. The "Could-not-find-their-own-ass-with-two-hands United Airlines who lost my luggage, canceled my claim calling it "resolved", then dicked me around for 3 and a half more weeks" Saga:

They found my luggage! A mere month after my own arrival home, my beloved pink Puma hat is home safe and sound. Although it, along with everything else in my luggage, smells a bit like overripe pineapple. (Mental note: Next time leave the stupid pineapple in the hotel.)

 This is wrong. I should not find this funny or cute. Nor should I endorse the taking of such a picture by putting it on my blog.

2.  I have a student teacher this semester.  By time second semester comes around I am running around like my ass is on fire with AP and the state standardized exams looming, committee commitments coming to a head, and teenage educational apathy is reaching its mid-year crescendo.

I am hoping that a bright eyed, eager beaver newbie teacher will shame me into getting my shit together. As I have said, my ego is probably the only reason I have accomplished anything in my life.

Yeah, yeah.. it is supposed to be about the children and their education... blah, blah, blah...

Anyhoo, while my first semester curriculum is neatly organized in folders on my hard drive, with a neatly maintained binder of student handout originals, lesson plans, and standards alignment on my desk,  my second semester curriculum is a veritable hot mess. From the end of January to June, I find myself scrambling when planning to find something, and more often than I care to admit, just recreating activities and lessons out of frustration. I figured a student teacher would force me to get my second semester stuff in order like my first semester curriculum.

I view my decision to take on a student teacher akin to those people that get a puppy so they will exercise. I just hope she does not end up a fat, untrained Labrador locked in the backyard.

I do have to share a "fun" student interaction when I introduced my young, beautiful student teacher to the class:

Ms. RBR: Everyone, I would like to introduce Miss. K...

Student in front row: Is she your daughter?

I look up at my student teacher who stands a foot and a half taller than me, has bright blue eyes, dark brown hair, and legs up to her neck. 

Ms. RBR in her best arrogant asshole, teacher voice: No, Mendel, this is our new student teacher. 

 *sigh* Clearly I did a bang up job teaching the concept of heredity. 

3. My tooth woes: I had my double root canal last week. It was about as fun as ... well, ... a fucking double root canal.

Lucky for me it is only half done and I get to go back next Monday to finish both teeth. Then I get to schedule the gum surgery and the crowns. It is the gift that keeps on giving.

Goddamn, mother fucking, stupid ass $3000.00 granola cluster.

4. I have started yet another diet program. I know, my annual "Hey look! I gained back all the weight from last year's diet" Diet is a tad early this year. I usually do not need to do this until March.

What can I say? I am an overachiever.