Rambling about nothing

Thank you, thank you, thank you for your support, kind words, and thoughts for my husband's surgery and treatment. It helps us both more than I can adequately express to have so much positivity and love out there.

At first, I was not sure I wanted to post about this particular area of my life, but now I am really, really glad I did. You all have helped me cope with what is arguably one of the toughest chapters in my life.



Movie Reviews

During our radioactive implant recovery weekend (you like how I fully partake in the 'recovery' part even though I skated on the whole 'having cancer' or even 'having surgery' part? Nice, huh?) we went on a movie watching spree. We have not seen a movie together in months, but in the last 4 days we have watched 5.

My ass is currently sporting a serious couch print, which may not be so bad if my couch was not a circa 1985 hand-me-down, dusty rose behemoth with an embroidered pattern of country blue tulips. Not a good look for me, nor my ass.

Anyhoo, I thought I would continue my uber-thorough movie critiques for the remaining 2 movies.

Here is a refresher of the first three comprehensive movie reviews:

1. Wolfman (review: Meh. But not as bad as they said. I think it is worth seeing)

2. Shutter Island (review: Awesome. A must see if you like psychological thrillers)

3. Valentine's Day (review: Stupid, but not as bad they said.)

And the remaining 2 movies that are lesser known (I think they may have gone straight to video or at the very least went there really, really quick)

4. The Salton Sea (review: Weird, ok, VERY weird, but an awesome psychological drama/thriller. Val Kilmer is great in this role. First movie I have liked him in since Real Genius.)

Make up Artist FAIL - Single WORST fake tattoos of all time. (Val Kilmer in The Salton Sea)

5. The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call - New Orleans (review: Not a sunny, feel good, "Life Rocks" film, but quirky and interesting, with a type of HUGELY imperfect humanity that I can not only relate to, I appreciate. Val Kilmer regains his general suckiness in his role, but Nicolas Cage and Eva Mendez (who I usually can't stand) were great.)


Saturday Run - 12 miles

*Stream of consciousness writing about training partner problem. Feel free to skip*

LA Run Buddy and I ran Saturday morning and unlike last Saturday where I was breathing like a woman in labor and she was nursing a pretty wicked hangover, we were both healthy or so we thought. Her knee gave out at the characteristic 8 miles. In all honesty, we have only had one run over 8 miles that her knee did not give out and even in the 2 and 1/2 years she was in LA she only had one run over 8 miles that she did not have a knee problem. For a grand total of 2 runs over 8 miles without knee troubles for her in 5 and half years of running together.

When she moved to LA (hence the moniker) was when I got into marathons and this is the first time we have been training together full time when I am training for a marathon. That is why it is now an issue.

She is my best friend and I would not have done any of this shit without her. I consider myself a freaking lucky beeotch that I even know someone as amazing as her.

I am trying to accept (and get her stubborn ass to accept) that she cannot do long runs in marathon training with me that are over 8 miles. The reality is if we start a run together I am not going to leave her to walk it in alone while I finish the run if her knee gives out. It really makes her upset and she feels like shit when it happens. (I know, you are thinking if it happens on virtually every run over 8 miles why is it a surprise? and why does she keep doing it? *shrugs* I don't know. She is remarkably stubborn) She, and how she feels, is more important than any run. I will not hurt her feelings to get a few extra miles in.

However, I would like to/need to get some longer runs in.

Sooooo.... we have a dilemma.


She has agreed that the Angel Island 25K next week is a bad idea, so she is not going (which makes her very unhappy that I am "running with other women." That sounds weird, but I knew what she meant.) I know we have to have a talk soon if I am going to get ready for SF Marathon, but I ma not looking forward to that conversation.

That is it. I do not have an answer. That is why I am writing about it, I guess. That and she does not read my blog.


The big, bleach blonde elephant in the room

Say what you will about Britney, but she got her shit together for the 2008 release of Circus. From self-shaved skin head, rehab bound, freak show to this in less than a year? My hat's off to you, Brit!

Ok, the hair.

On Monday at school I looked like this

The Drama Queen title never seemed so apropos as in a post about my fucking hair.

On Wednesday at school I looked like this

The picture I texted to my mother. At least I am not crying.

*The rest of this will bore the snot out of the boys and a good portion of the girls, so I apologize in advance*

I have highlighted my hair for years. It kept me at an acceptable (to me) level of blonde (I was born blonde. Toe headed actually. I was the type of blonde that is bald for the first 3 years of life, and then becomes a wispy, static prone piece of shit for years. It went to a thicker, darker blonde by high school.)

As I have gotten older and my hormones have changed, my hair has gotten darker and darker making the contrast between my highlights and natural color more noticeable and in my opinion unattractive.

Then the grays came in.

Are you fucking kidding me?

My mother has exactly 4 gray hairs at 63. She has never highlighted or colored her hair in any way and it is a beautiful auburn color that people pay for. (Small rant: This is not the only DNA sequence that she withheld from my genome. Apparently, she also hung on to long thin legs, ectomorph metabolism, patience, color sense, and how to look good no matter what the occasion)

My mother in Alaska. We had been living on a boat for 10 days. I looked like I had been very recently rescued from homelessness and she fucking looks like this. Irritating to say the least.

That was the final straw. Graying, dark blonde/mouse brown hair is HIDEOUS, so I did it, I went bleach blonde. I was a little shocked by the results and the jury is still out on how I feel about it, but I am stuck with it at this point.

There it is. Love it or hate it. We are stuck with it for a while at least.