My trip... the second day!

There are very few rules when you visit Standing Room Only headquarters so you feel pretty free to be yourself.
Rule #1: Make yourself at home. If you want something, go get it.
(I love this rule because it is so like the way things are at my house)
Rule #2: Don’t gripe about stuff or you will get someone rolling their eyes at you.
Rule #3: Know that Polly is the queen. Act accordingly.
Rule #4: You can wake up early, but don’t wake anyone else up till 9 a.m. (which is 11 a.m. my time!)

So Monday night we finally got to sleep at midnight, which happened to be 2 my time, so I figured I would be able to sleep pretty late the next day. Wrong!!! I woke up at 6 California time and was wide awake. I laid in the bed for what seemed like forever and finally decided to get up, trying very hard to be as quiet as possible. As I worked my way off of the air mattress, I knocked over a few things… sending books flying every which way, and in the process, breaking a beautiful (and very expensive looking) dish. OH crap.
Now I had flooded the bathroom AND broken something in the apartment and my visit hadn’t really started yet. Ugh.

And to top it off, in breaking the dish, I woke Hugh up! I broke rule #4!
It didn’t take long though, for him to go back to sleep and for Polly to come over and hang out with me, making me feel a lot better.
Later that morning, we got ourselves up and around and ready to go to breakfast.

The Breakfast place is conveniently just around the corner from where Hugh lives and is a nice, short walk full of awesome people and things to see. First, we walked past a nursery with the coolest plants I have ever seen. People come and go across the street just to visit the nursery, from what I could tell. Then, there is the newsstand where Hugh gets his paper to do the crosswords. The man and woman there are just darling and they love Hugh and Polly. They give Polly treats and tease Hugh lovingly. They are great. I loved them instantly!

I have to admit that I was a little nervous about the breakfast place. I mean, it IS famous! It IS the hang out of David Spade, but most importantly, it is the place where some of Hugh’s friends are. So I wanted to make a good impression.
Polly led us to our table and sat down in the booth, as if she was ready to order her meal.
The waitress there was lovely. She knew exactly what Hugh wanted and brought it out as soon as she saw him come in.
Polly got a bowl of water and she and I shared a delicious breakfast.
I secretly wished I had a breakfast place down the street from my house too.

OH, and then there was the dog park in the afternoon.
We drove up rolling hills on one of the most beautiful drives I have ever been on.
We sang Leela James songs and danced as we drove, with the windows down and the breeze running through our hair. Well, my hair, at least. Hee hee.

The Dog Park is a huge place, surrounded by a fence with a separate place for little dogs to hang out. There are benches and trees and lots and lots of dogs running around. The people I was hoping to see weren’t there, and we were forced to make small talk with random strangers. Poor poor us.
Finally, the puppies came in the gate and they all ran to Hugh like a kid running to their favorite parent at the end of the day. They love Hugh and they all fight to sit on his lap. He called them over and I was impressed with how well he could remember their names and distinguish one from the other. Pearl, the diva of the group, hopped on Hugh’s lap and growled at him for what seemed like forever. I knew when she hopped on my lap, I would be in trouble, but she didn’t growl at me at all. I guess a diva knows another diva.
Polly sat in the sun and enjoyed her friends from afar…too cool join in the running and playing, but not soo cool to totally keep her distance. It was cute really, the queen and diva, even at the dog park.

The evening was filled with Italian Food and singing and dancing and crazy talks.
We talked and talked and talked and joked and laughed and laughed and laughed.

We called BT and he wondered what kind of trouble we were getting into.
And then, there were the talks in the dark. I love love those talks in the dark, when the world is still and the city begins to sleep.

My trip... the first day!

Hugh and I had joked that we hadn’t actually MET. I mean, we talked every day via email and on the phone every once in a while, but we hadn’t actually officially MET. So my plan was, when I saw him at the airport, I would extend my hand and introduce myself. That was my plan anyway… and then I hopped in the jeep… There was Polly looking at me like “uh, who are you and why are you in my space?” (She is, after all, a big diva) We wrestled with my super heavy suitcase and then Hugh leaned over and gave me a big hug and it was over. Introducing myself was out.
Oh well.
All at once, it hit me like a big old slap in the face. THIS is what I have been waiting for for six solid months. This was what I had looked forward to! THIS was what I had imagined in my head over and over again. It was finally a reality. I was somehow sad. Not that it was happening, not that I was there, but that there was no more anticipation. Do you know what I mean? It is hard to explain. I had to say to myself several times, “hey, you are here!!!”
I think Hugh took this as me freaking out, cause he was very quiet, very slow to make any sort of conversation at first. He pointed out usual Hollywood sights and it slowly became a reality in my head. Slowly I began to realize, “WOW! I am HERE!!! How amazing is this???”
We laughed and we joked and we talked about all of the crazy places I saw and we rolled down the road towards Hugh’s place.

He parks in a parking garage, one with a cool garage door opener for the gate. That was really fun. And he has his own parking space… totally reserved for him.
We didn’t lock the car doors, which I found odd, but whatever.
He lives on the third floor of this cool building with little balconies all peeking out into the street. It is in a fabulous part of town, and surrounded by tall buildings. Totally not what I am used to in texas!
As we walked in, I noticed how freakin’ tall Hugh was! I am short, but he is really really tall. It was cute, really, and I am sure we looked like the total opposite couple, walking into the building together.

For some reason, as soon as we walked in, Polly ran down the hall to the elevator. You know how dogs do when they are running on slick floors? They sort of can’t get their footing for a second and slide instead of run? That is exactly what Polly did. It was cute, since those aren’t really diva like actions.

Hugh’s apartment was not really anything like I expected it to look, but so Hugh at the same time. For some reason, I had created a floor plan of his apartment in my head and it SO didn’t match what was reality. That is ok.
The first thing I saw was a giant picture of a man’s butt… I know, it is art but still… ☺
He loves art, natch and he loves books. He loves hand blown glass vases and jars. Everything in his apartment has a special meaning, a place in his heart. Everything has sentimental value, from the beautiful photographs of his mom and grandmother, to his newly acquired print of a truck. It all has a story for Hugh.
I loved hearing the stories. I soaked up his stories and stared at the pictures and the books and the things in the apartment. So these are important things to Hugh… these are important to my friend. I needed to make them important to me.

I gave him some Texas playing cards (since he only has naked lady playing cards) and we vowed to play some Texas Hold’em as he put them in the “card drawer” in a little table between two wickery chairs.

That evening, Hugh and I talked, we got comfortable, we played, we danced, we ordered dinner, and Hugh talked to BT and got advice for how to deal with me for the rest of my time there. We watched TV and talked and talked and ate Chinese food and Polly just watched me and tried to figure out who this strange person was in her space.

That night, before bed, I decided to shower. I proceeded to flood the entire bathroom! I guess the shower head didn’t like it when I moved it down. It started spraying water out the side…something I didn’t notice till I was almost done with my shower.
Yikes.
Here I was in a strange place, and I had totally flooded the bathroom on my first night there! The roll of toilet paper...drenched! My pajamas were soaked! My clothes that I had just taken off were soaked! Yikes!
I am normally not the most graceful kid there is, but jeeze… the first night! What was to become of me by Thursday???
After drying off, hanging up my wet clothes, and putting on clean dry pajamas, it was time for bed.

Hugh had borrowed an air mattress from a friend of his and had set it up in the living room for me to sleep. It was great!
So as Hugh laid in his bed with Polly, I laid in my bed on the floor, we talked in the dark like a bunch of kids at a slumber party, who’s parents had made them turn the lights out, but who weren’t really willing to quite go to sleep yet.
These (come to find out) were some of my favorite times…when we would lay in the dark and talk.
Somehow it is safer to say the harder/scarier things in the dark...

commercial break...

ok, I asked Hugh if I could post this on his blog. He nicely let me be a guest blogger... but I wanted to post this here as well. :) I will write more about my visit I promise! If you haven't read it... please read this...


Isn’t that post the sweetest thing? How nice was it of Hugh to say such great things about me?
I have to say what an honor it was to get to visit him. He was kind, understanding, and truly welcoming. I worried that I would get in his space too much, I mean, he does live by himself most of the time. But if I got in his way, he never once let me know it...even though I flooded his bathroom and broke a dish.
Like he mentioned in his post, we danced, we played, we sang crazy songs, we dished on tv stars, and we laughed and laughed and laughed. I don’t remember the last time I laughed that much! And we talked in the middle of the night as we were drifting off to sleep and we told each other secrets we might not have told anyone else before.
I am so happy to call this awesome person my friend.
I think because of my visit, I am more of a Standing Room Only fan. I am president of the club! I am the cheerleader on the side lines. So, let me do my cheerleading/presidential duties and do a little commercial message for Hugh, who would never do it for himself.

I don’t know about you, but I am willing to pay big bucks for my weekly helping of Entertainment Weekly, my local newspaper, or even to get Cable. I don’t mind paying to be entertained.
So friends, if you are at all entertained by Hugh and his writing, if you are carried away by the images he creates with his posts, if you just once laugh at something he writes, please click on the paypal button on his site and donate to SRO. Or, if you don’t have a paypal account, email Hugh or me and we will give you info on how to donate directly. Think of it as joining the fan club!

Go ahead. Join the club! All the cool kids are doing it!

Hula Boola and lots of love!!!
Nikki (Susiederk)

The Visit Begins.... part 3

Although I continually remain the President of the Standing Room Only Fan Club, Hugh and I actually became friends around December. We have continued this relationship ever since. In our emails, we talk about everything. We could talk about church and God and easily segue into bedazzling outfits or the latest LA gossip… without skipping a beat. I mentioned one day, that I wanted him to come visit us in Texas and he, in turn, invited me to LA. Little did he know how serious I would take that invitation (poor poor him). I bought the ticket in January and he and I waited with baited breath till July 10th.
We planned, we joked, we talked on the phone and dreamed of what it would be like.
We even began the countdown… 14 more days, 10 more days… 5 more days… (I was packed by this time) 3 more days… till it was down to hours… and then I was on the plane. Winging my way to a place I had never been, to see a person I had never met. How crazy am I?
All my friends thought I was crazy. Luckily, BT was on board and supportive.

The plane trip was interesting. It began with the drunken LA girls, buying too many mini Texas mugs at the airport gift shop. (Uh, DUH! Everyone knows you need to buy the BIG Texas mugs… Not the little ones.) They used words like “gnarly” and “for sure” and talked a little too loud for their own good. They were super tanned and super into themselves. “OH”, I thought, “am I ready to deal with the LA attitude???”
And then the plane was late and I finally got my luggage, and walked outside… and there they were! Live and in person! The famous Hugh and Polly! Right there in front of me!
All of a sudden, I knew… I was ready to deal with anything!

More to come…

Message From God.. (part two in a series)

At church a month ago, the guest minister asked the congregation if God ever talked to them. I looked around, astonished that no one raised their hand. God talks to me. I believe God talks to everyone. You just have to be still and listen.

God spoke to me in August. I am surprised that I was ready to listen… I was surprised I was ABLE to listen. I guess when God really wants you to Get It he makes it so you can hear.

We were chatting on rlp chat, like regular…nothing new. I was still in awe of Hugh and his way with words. That never changes. But that day, he was just plain old Hugh, the guy I liked to play the jetsons game with (although he totally cheated). He told us of his life and his birthday and we all marked our calendars and got ready for a virtual party. But God had bigger plans. HE talked to me that day. “Get his address,” he said. “Send him a package, everyone loves birthdays. This guy needs a big birthday gift.”

It took me three days to get the nerve to ask Hugh for his actual address. I was after all still the groupie. I was, after all, still the crazed fan in some people’s eyes. But I got my nerve one night and asked. He happily and easily gave it to me. He wasn’t worried. Maybe God talked to him too. I don’t know.
After asking about a million questions, I was ready to gather things for the package. Honestly, I don’t know what I put in that package. I think I knitted some stuff… I think there were some beads, maybe some balloons… it was meant as a party in a box. It was meant to say, “I think you are great, even if you don’t know me.”

He got it three days early and waited till his birthday to open it. He has more will power than I, certainly. I had done what God asked and it was good. It wasn’t about me. It was about Hugh and his birth, and a reminder from God that he is important.

In the Beginning...

I had crappy handwriting. The crappiest, I guess since every one of my elementary school report cards were very "concerned" about my handwriting. I also wasn't a great speller. I can remember the frustration, the near tears, one day when I couldn't spell the word 'church'. Phonetically it didn't look right... I just couldn't get it.
Because of the bad handwriting and spelling challenges, I was considered a terrible writer. Somehow my teachers couldn't get past mechanics to look at the actual story. Papers I wrote were never praised for content just bled red from errors.

Needless to say, I never never considered myself a writer. I spent so much time editing and trying to spell things right, I had lost all of my energy for actual writing. It was just not there.
But I did love me some great writing. I knew great writing when I saw it. I still do.
Someone once told me, "Good writers ride on the backs of better writers. Find writers you love and ride on their backs till you find your way."

Lucky for me, I know some great writers. That is so cool to get to say... I KNOW some great writers. I don't just admire them from afar... I KNOW them. Ginger for instance! If you haven't been reading her stories from Vacation Bible School, you are missing out on greatness.
And then there was RLP. Ginger actually turned me on to RLP and his honest, no bullshit look at church and religion. I can't just name one favorite story by Gordon Atkinson... I would have to name 5, or 10, or 100!!
And then RLP read this crappy catalog and decided he would quit preaching and go visit Hugh.
And I discovered the world of the Hughman.
How amazing is his writing? He totally looks at world in his own way. Right then and there, I discovered a kindred spirit! He wrote things I thought! I didn't just like Hugh's writing, I adored it. I soaked up every word, like a little kid learning how to play with a new toy.
Hugh's writing spoke to me... It blessed me. It made me laugh. And I love love to laugh.

Last summer, RLP changed his site and created a chat room. The chat reminded me of the after college days when The Circle of Friends and I were scattered to the four corners and we would try to meet and chat to catch up on each other’s lives.
And one day, it happened. THE Hugh Elliott stopped by to chat.
I was floored! It couldn't have been cooler if a movie star had popped in to chat.
THE Hugh Elliott, writer extraordinaire was there, talking to ME. Wow. I was overwhelmed.
I was beside myself. I was the groupie! I was the star struck girl... wanna be writer. Here in my midst was Hugh!

And that was just the beginning, as they say, of a beautiful friendship together...

Part two coming up. :)

California Dreamin...

"Everybody's got a dream... what's your dream?" -Pretty Woman.

I am headed to Hollywood, California tomorrow!
More on that later!!!
Till then...
What's your dream?

Super Powers...

In a session I was in recently, I was asked to introduce myself with my name, where I attend church, and what super power I would like to have if I were a superhero.
OY where is my mom when I need her?
My mom loves the superheros. She totally digs any sort of movie where someone has superpowers! X-men? yep... Superman/Spiderman... yep.
She loves them all. She even saw that crappy one with the kids in high school who's parents are super heroes. Yep. She loves her some Super Power stuff.
So maybe I should ask her that question. She might have already thought about it...

Six Flags of Texas is really in full swing and advertising is all over the place lately. I love how they are bringing back the Superhero into full focus. They have the Superman ride...The Batman... I have noticed though that in all their ads, they show Wonder Woman, but there is no NO ride for Wonder Woman! A disgrace!
There needs to be a Wonder Woman ride!!! For sure!
I can remember being 8 or so and walking around in my Wonder Woman Underoos. I WAS Wonder Woman. You can count on that.
I was fighting crimes, warding off bullets with my iron arm bands. I was a crime fighting machine!

So if I were given super powers, would they be the powers of Wonder Woman? uh, no. Would I like to have Jedi mind powers? hmm... maybe. Would I like to fly? Somehow flying seems a little overrated. How about shape shifting? hmmm... sounds like it could be fun. But then what if you shape shifted into like a bar of soap and then couldn't get back?!!! Yikes.
Actually, the real truth is, I would like to totally heal sick people... not in a "duh, doctors do that!" sort of way. Like in a, "let me touch you and make you instantly better" kind of way. I would be a superhero fighting the villain called AIDS and Cancer! Pow! WAM! I would get rid of those bad boys in one single swoop! No doubt! I would then move on to people who are sick or hurting emotionally. Feel like hurting yourself? Bam... you don't feel that way anymore. Is that a Super Power Really?

And what actually defines a super power?

I think God has given us a super power already. We don't need a cape or a corny costume. We live it every day... Our power is one to make people feel great, or really crappy. I have seen lately, some people use that power for extreme good, and I have seen people use that power for evil. I have to think... really reflect... how do I use MY super power?

How do you use yours???

Someone told me recently that they noticed I was "really good at internet relationships". What exactly should I take from that?
Was that a back handed compliment?

I do admit that had it not been for the internet, it would have been harder to find BT. I do admit to starting my sentences with "well, there is this chat room" more than once or twice, when trying to explain my friendship with someone.
I do admit to sending email to people I haven't ever actually physically met.
I do admit that I will be sitting in the airport on Monday looking for someone I have only seen in pictures.
Does that make me crazy? Really good at internet relationships? Who knows.

Does that make me crappy at real life relationships?
Is it a one or the other type of deal?
Can you have/do both?
I would like to think so.
So, could we turn that around and say that I am pretty good at relationships, especially of the internet variety?

One More Girl...

I took off my iron smile
Because I found it weighed me down
Tomorrow when the world wakes up
I'll be in another town
You don't know what you want
But at this moment it could be me
You move your hand across my knee
Turn me in to some novelty
I guess I'm
One more girl on the stage
Just one more ass that got
Stuffed in some jeans
And it's one more day that you
Don't find true love
Because you don't know
What it means
Did you ever take the time to
Think about who I might be
Where I've been, what I'm thinking
Who I loved, what I've seen
Yeah, yeah
I'm one more car out
On the road that
You might pass on your way home
Someone's sister, someone's wife or
Just some bitch who's probably
Got no life yes I'm
One more girl on the stage
Just one more ass that got
Stuffed in some jeans
And it's one more day that you
Don't find true love
Because you don't know
What it means
One day we'll be a pile of ashes
For the rest of time it passes
So take your hand off my knee
Do you know what it means to be
One more girl on the stage
Just one more ass that got
Stuffed in some jeans
And it's one more day that you
Don't find true love
Because you don't know
What it means


Because I have just discovered how much I love this new Wreckers Album
Because their voices are like angels.
Because I have some friends, teenage or otherwise who are dealing with feeling unimportant.
Because sometimes I feel like just one more ass that got stuffed in some jeans.

Google Rocks!

Someone today did a google search for "kissed my cat, fever blister" and they found my site.
ewww.
If you are making out with your cat, you deserve to have a fever blister.
i am just saying...

In the Closet

I was doing a little cleaning today... Just a little late spring cleaning.
Better late than never, they say.

Here is what I found:
*My driver's license from before I was married.
*My library card from the town I grew up in. Did I ever go there?
*Lots of change from 4 different wallets.
*old shoe strings... (why did I keep old shoe strings?)
*7 book bags.
*an envelope with a stiff new 20 dollar bill. (where did that come from? Was it intended for someone???)
*black socks I have been looking for...
*a recipe for Smores...
A great quote that I liked so much, I wrote down... and then lost.

"No man or woman of the humblest sort can really be strong, gentle, pure, and good without the world being better for it, without somebody being helped and comforted by the existence of that goodness."

Any clue where that quote came from? I guess I could google it.
I like it.
:)

So, what is in your closet that surprises you?

Frat Boy

I want to be a frat boy. I mean not in the hazing, having to pay for friends sort of way... oh no. There are reasons I didn't join any sort of Greek Organization in college...
And I know I am not a guy... I get that. Being an actual Frat Boy isn't quite possible.

But... If I were, it would be so awesome!
I could wear the baggy sloppy khaki shorts with big pockets and not really care how I looked.
In the same vein, I could also wear the cool kid party t-shirts.
I would have a beer belly and slop around in my flip-flops.
I would wear the old trucker caps and look sooo good.
I would curse and spit. Oh yes!! Spitting is a must when you are a frat boy.
I would say stuff like, "dude" and "oh man" and not look like a total freak.
I could talk about football and not worry about hygiene. I could scratch myself in public! I could have actual farting contests and maybe even set a few of those farts on fire. Cause fart fire is always cool when you are a frat boy.
Yep. NO more having to paint my toenails, or work out, or shave my legs. No more having to wear sweaters. Frat Boys don't wear sweaters. NO more close toed shoes.
No more stress and worry... just sloppy and fun.
I am SO there!
Dude, where's the party???

If you could read my mind...

I know this sounds strange, maybe I watched too many movies growing up... but I have this thought every once in a while, that people can read my mind. I know, it is bizarre. It is not really likely. It is very "Freaky Friday" but I imagine it.
I think that is when my mind goes into overdrive. Or is it while my mind is going into overdrive that I wonder if people can read my mind?
Let me give you an example:
Girl in line in the grocery store is in the Express 15 items or less line. She has like 45 items and is seriously copping some attitude. She has a butt tattoo... I know because I can see it since her pants are nowhere near covering up the butt cheeks. I start thinking mean mean things... about how I wish I could just yank up her jeans and how I really am not interested in the butt tattoo she is sporting. How it could be more colorful. I start wondering whose initials those are. Are they hers? Are they the baby daddy's? How many frozen dinners CAN one person buy at one time? Things like that...
When I begin to wonder...can this person read my mind? OH MAN! That would be really bad. How mean a person am I? So I start singing to myself...
For some reason, the church song Sanctuary comes to mind every time...

Lord Prepare me, to be a sanctuary...
Pure and Holy, Tried and True...
With Thanksgiving...
I want to be a living,
Sanctuary... for you...

It not only gets my mind off butt tattoos, but also then makes me think about actually being a Sanctuary... and how God wouldn't want me being so judgmental and stuff.
Works most of the time.

So I go to this place to get my hair cut.
Alice used to cut my hair. She moved and never told me. I showed up one day at Alice's place and it was renamed. Alice doesn't work here anymore. So these new people are there.
Every time, and I mean every time I go there to get my hair cut, I sit back in the chair to get the hair washed and I always hear the same thing... "You want eyebrow wax?" It is more of a statement than a question, although I usually answer with, "uh, no" as if it was a question.
Every time I go in, I get the same statement/question. Yeah, ok. I get it. In your eyes, my eyebrows need taming.
The other day, I walked in on a Saturday and heard this...
Hair cutting woman: OH, Susie... I didn't recognize you! You look different!
Me: oh really? In what way?
HCW: oh, well, it is Saturday. You don't usually come in on the weekend.
Me: uh, ok.
HCW: But... you need eyebrow wax?

I am ready for them to just suggest liposuction too.
Maybe some botox for good measure.

Then there is the place that I work out...
I asked the trainer person to help me with more weights.
Her comments as I am lifting weights...
"Now, remember you NEED to keep doing cardio. You will never lose your weight if you don't keep up the cardio."
She might have said, "You need liposuction?"

So, what is worse? Actually reading someone's mind or having them say in no uncertain terms what they are thinking anyway?

Wouldn't life be a little simpler if we all sang Sanctuary instead?

Join me will you?

Lord Prepare me....
Keep it up!

Things that made me smile today:

In no particular order:

*lots of new posts on SRO.
*email
*my BT
*getting up at 8.
*becoming friends with an old white man, and a man with a gold tooth... at the same time.
*being a pirate again, even for a few minutes.
*watching people who are crazier than me
*sonic ice... an entire bag of it!
*Sports Night DVDs.
*learning a new way to knit
*corny men and cornier lines.
*goldfish crackers
*the thought of a new non-dead ipod
*sending letters with cool stamps on them
*listening to new fun music

What made you smile today?

Running...

Someone told me today that our bodies are not meant to run. She heard it from her doctor. "Don't run unless you are being chased" she claims he said.
Well, I used to hate running. Hate it with a passion. I still am not totally fond of it unless I am on the treadmill and have my ipod plugged into my ears, but I do it.

And oh, the ipod! I have a "workout" playlist. Each song carefully chosen and orchestrated to play at just the right time. Good walking tunes in the beginning, ease into the running with a little bit faster paced song... then crank it up to fast fast running to White Stripes. Luckily, that song is pretty short and I can slow back down just enough to catch my breath, wipe the drippy sweat away from my eyes and have a good fast jog... then back to slower music for a brisk walk, then down down down till I am feeling energized and don't want to stop walking.
This is my work out... each and every time.

Yesterday, I had the best run ever! I mean it! Ever! And that is saying a LOT for sure.
This super skinny girl got on the treadmill beside me about the same time I started...she was beautiful. Not a hair out of place, super cute, and ready to run.
Usually I don't even pay attention to people around me, but for some reason, I did this time.
We both started walking... tunes blaring in my ears... and then the run. Funny how she started running the same time I did. I noticed at one point, that even though her legs are WAY longer than mine, we were keeping the pace pretty well. Wow. Running became fun, like a little game to see how well I could keep up. It was comforting in a strange way, to have someone match steps with me. Then the White Stripes came on and I cranked up the speed, preparing myself for our pace to be off. But she quickly upped the speed and joined along. We were running buddies, pace pals. I was having such a nice run that I even played that White Stripes song again, so I could really run faster, harder, get that energy going (continue to keep up with her). When I couldn't take it any longer, I slowed down back to the jog and watched to see if our feet would continue to move at the same pace. It took a bit of coordination, but we got there. Once again, step by step, we were together again. Amazing.
She ran long after I slowed down to a walk again, but it was fun while it lasted. We never had to say a word to each other. We just kept the pace and kept each other on task. I wondered how crazy it would sound to thank her, for being my running partner that day. I got to think about other things, and got the best run of my life. But I didn't. Call me a chicken.

As this school year is ending, I have been talking to teachers lately who are already making lists of things they need to change for next year. I don't have the energy to plan for next year quite yet. I am still getting over the run of this year.
It has been crazy busy! I have been going to graduate school, learning a new job, trying to fit in in a new school, trying to be a pirate, trying to be a friend, trying to keep up. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes I feel like I fell flat on my face.
The thing that I love though, is that no matter what...no matter the pace I set, BT has always been my running partner. No matter what, he could keep up with me. He matched me step by step. Sometimes the music in our lives got so crazy and so loud and so strong, that I thought I would never catch my breath... and there was BT running along beside me.

I didn't get a chance to thank that girl for being my running partner, but I will thank my life running partner. Thanks for keeping up with me. Thanks for being beside me. Thanks for being there.

NEW SHOESSSSSSSS!!!!

Look at my new cool converse!!! Flowers! Butterflies!!! Pink Trim!
The only thing better would be if they were open toed so I could show off my cutie cute pink polka dotted toe nails.
But here is the kicker... they were in the MENS section of the store... uh, ok.

Poor Hobbes!!!

I found this in my DubbleBubble today at lunch. Uh, yeah, I can relate.
funny how after that, it has the fortune... a smile a day keeps worry away...
so if your computer is freaking out and has a wedgie, I should smile and not worry? Idontthinkso... thanks anyway.

Hobbes, my beloved trusty laptop, my compadre, my entertainment during lunch, my computer bff, my friend... well, he got a wedgie last week. On Monday to be exact! Just 24 hours from when I had to turn in my final paper for my graduate class... my paper which hadn't been printed and was only on the laptop. Ugh, yeah. Maybe I should have smiled more?
Hobbes was toast... and so was I, if I couldn't get to my files.

Due to my husband the research king, we not only got it up and running long enough to back up my hard drive, but he also found the super secret warrenty that apple doesn't like to tell people about. Ah, a new logic board and NO no no fee to me!
Wow.
So, say a prayer for Hobbes. He is miles away from me... missing me... getting new logic, and hopefully, not getting picked on by mean bullies who may or may not give him another wedgie.

Catblogging...

Well, Annie is trying to help with organization...

should I make a label for the side that says CAT...?

shock and awe???

Does this not look queenly??? NO, I am not trying to be royal with the white glove... I am doing my "oh I am so surprised" pose.
but if you think it looks like me blowing kisses to you... then you just enjoy that!