It’s Been One Week

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I ran a half marathon yesterday. Today I didn’t go into work. Not because I need to recover from the race, but because I need to recover from this week.

Well, the last week and three days.

Last Friday my girl Steph flew into town. Since then my budget and liver have both taken the most severe of beatings.

Let’s recap! I can’t believe how long this is going to be.

Friday was the final Blues home game, where we celebrated Steph’s birthday and her arrival into town, met up with bunches of fun peoples, and just enjoyed the evening.

Saturday was a Blues meetup for the final game of the season, some spectacular company, an unexpected introduction to a boy, and several rounds of delicious, delicious beers.

Sunday, being Easter, I actually spent down with some of my family, who are awesome, and then there was an unexpected late night ice cream date (!!!!). Yep, a date. I’ll call him Goalie Cop, since he is both of those things.

Monday I met up with my marathon girls for beers and to watch the Cardinals game, and we sat around laughing and drinking and joking about just how poorly all of us were going to do on this race, given how much all of us had slacked off on our training.

Tuesday two of those marathon girls came lifting with me. That’s right. We actually did work out. Go figure, right? But then we had cocktails and watched Goon, and we spread the love of the movie to Goalie Cop.

Wednesday was another date night (!!!!) followed by a meet up for the first games of the NHL playoffs, which kept all of us out late. Thanks West Coast. Thanks a lot.

That’s when shit starts to get crazy.

Thursday was round one, game one for the Blues playoffs. It was the first playoff game of any kind I had ever been to, and guys? I love playoff games. So very much. After the game, the marathon girls (sans one) and I went to a bar where it was ladies’ night and successfully killed 17 martinis between the three of us. No big deal.

Friday was the Cardinals Home Opener with April, which was followed by too many Irish Carbombs at the bar after, but I got to meet Miranda (WHICH WAS AWESOME) and seriously, even though we stood in the rain for hours, it was all so worth it.

Saturday led to some traipsing around the city looking for appropriate balloons and naps, but then more tailgating and the second Blues game of the weekend.

Yes, those are tall boys.

We did great and actually went home and to bed that night. Go us, right?

Sunday we got up far too early and went out for marathoning. Steph and I realized that we had incorrectly thought the race started at 730am. Nope. 700. At least we were there on time. The race itself was ok. I ran with Steph, who was dealing with stress fracture issues, so we didn’t finish at a time I’d expected, but I’m ok with it. We spent the entire race discussing hockey and quoting Cool Runnings, which was thoroughly entertaining to those around us. Now, however, it’s time to focus on Ragnar.

Highlights of the race? Around mile eight and a half, running through the SLU campus, Steph and I at the same time started batting at each other. Why? Because standing on the side of the road were Blues captain David BaCkes and goalie Brian Elliott. We definitely yelled “Let’s go Blues!” at them and got in return some head nods, waves, and smiles. Being that I’ve loved BaCkes for just about forever, I swooned a bit. Running while going weak in the knees is difficult.

AND THEN. Then there was Mile Nine. The bestest mile in all the land. Not only were we floating because of having just seen two Blues, but then we got to the Darth Vader balloon, under which April, one of her friends from grad school, and Goalie Cop were standing to hand us frosty Budweisers. Yeah, we had a beer stop during our run. Best. Idea. Ever. Mile Nine was a good mile.

After the race there was the delicious lunching, the epic napping, and the staying up far too late to watch West Coast playoff hockey games.

And now here I am. Sitting at home, having done just about nothing productive (besides taking Steph to the airport). It’s noon.

I am exhausted and swooning my ass off and wondering just how much of my budget I’ve trashed this week and already missing Steph and wishing April could have stayed longer and finding myself beyond fucking hopeful about this guy. I will elaborate later as I don’t want to jinx this, but allow me to just say quickly that I don’t think this one’s going anywhere any time soon. Not if I have anything to do with it, anyway.

Phew. The upcoming week seems almost boring in comparison to the last.

Until Friday, when I head up to Chicago with April for a reunion with the girls we went to Vegas with last year.

Shit shows. I’m getting really good at them.

Life is really fucking good.

I’m Walking on Sunshine

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Last night Erratic posted what she thought were ten boring things. She likes these lists, and this particular list of hers made me grin like an imbecile when she said:

“I am ridiculously happy. Not just the house shit, just everything. Perfect job, perfect boy, soon to be perfect house…shit is just awesome right now. I am much funnier when everything sucks, I realize this. Sorry about the cheese…”


Allow me to add my own cheese.

Guys? Things are good right now.

Things are STUPIDLY good right now.

I have been absolutely CRUSHING things at work lately. TWO presentations this morning went off with spectacular feedback. I am feeling comfortable and confident in my role, even with the added juggling of the priorities that it’s given me. My coworkers are awesome, and my boss trusts and respects me as a scientist and quality manager.

My writing has gotten some much bigger attention lately, to the point where not one, but two different Blues blogs have asked me to join their ranks. One I turned down, one I’m highly considering. Not to mention the fact that even right now with Aerys there have been opportunities to be a motivator that has in turn motivated me. Having my Blues in the playoffs helps.

The running thing, after my week long mental break, is better than I imagined. The race is Sunday, and last night I officially signed up for the Disney marathon. My marathon buddies are all in town, and they’re quite possibly some of my favorite people ever. Sunday’s race is going to be my bitch. Full stop.


My sister texted me the other day to tell me that she felt her baby move from the outside for the first time, and I’ll be damned if I just absolutely cannot fucking WAIT to meet that new niece/nephew.

The friends I have are the coolest people on the face of the planet. I have been out of my apartment and/or with friends every single day for the last few weeks, and though it is exhausting, the laughter and happiness that has been ever-present in my day-to-day life has made me so grateful to have them. Planning girls’ nights with Ali and Alison, looking forward to seeing April this weekend, having the marathon girls with me this past week, Sunday night dinners, Game of Thrones watch parties, Blues meetups, and knowing I FINALLY get to meet Miranda on Friday has me over the fucking moon.

And then. Then there is the one thing that I’m just going to tease you all with for right now, the thing that has me probably the most giddy out of all of these things. I am not going to go into details just yet, but I promise to update soon. I cannot WAIT to tell you about this.

You guys hate me right now, I am aware of this.


Oh, and I’m wearing absolutely kick-ass earrings today.

I am quite honestly drunk on happiness.

You’ve Got to Admit it’s Getting Better

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It is amazing what an overdose of hope will do to a person.

This morning’s meeting was productive and worth-while, my to do list is manageable and shrinking.

It is a gorgeous day, perfect for beers with great friends this evening, and dammit, you couldn’t tear the smile off my face.

Today? Today is a good fucking day.

It’s getting better all the time.

Don’t Hate Me Cause I’m Beautiful

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Within the past few days, a couple articles have come out that have caused some tremendous backlash against the author. The U.K.’s Mail Online (admittedly not the most reputable of news sources, and quite possibly filled with inane garbage) published two articles written by a woman named Samantha Brick.

In her first article, Brick laments just how difficult her life has been when dealing with other women because of her looks. She details the ways her life has been positively impacted (getting stuff, attention from men, a general ease of life), but then continues on to describe the “fact” that all women she come in contact with essentially hate her because she’s beautiful, a feeling she states lies entirely in jealousy. She peppered photos of herself throughout this entire article.

I’m sure you can imagine the backlash, and most of it was attacks on her physical appearance.

Just a day later she posted a second article that, in a nutshell, says, “See? I told you.”

This whole debacle (she was discussed on Good Morning, America today, from what I hear) has been incredibly thought-provoking for me.

I have absolutely no issue with a woman being confident in her looks. I think it’s incredible if she can stand in up in the wake of the media onslaught of what is considered beautiful and STILL believe she is gorgeous. Having that self-confidence makes a woman more attractive to me.

What I find off-putting is her sense of arrogance, entitlement, and an over-arching assumption that just because someone is being a bitch to her is because of the way she looks, or if a man does something for her it’s because he thinks she’s hot. That type of attitude is incredibly unattractive. Not only that, but there is a certain air of “if this doesn’t happen to you, obviously I’m prettier than you,” as though physical appearance is a competition among any and all women.

I don’t think so, Tim.

It seems as though she’s failing to realize that beauty is one of the most subjective qualities out there. I think Olivia Wilde is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. I know multiple people who disagree with me. Brick saying that all women dislike her because they all think she’s too pretty is such a blanket statement that it indicates a lack of awareness about how people in general view things.

From my own point of view, I know that there are people who find me attractive, having been told so (which, I will admit, is an ego boost). I also know that there are people who will disagree with that sentiment. Honestly? It doesn’t matter. How I view myself is in no way related to how others view me, and how I view myself can change from day to day.

My friends would say the same about themselves (and some did this morning when I asked them what they thought about this topic).

The thing is, my female friends are incredibly beautiful. I, as they say, roll with pretty bitches. They can walk into a room and instantly command attention. You know what, though?

They are compassionate and down to earth and friendly and loyal and absolutely hilarious.  They are confident and well-spoken. They are well-liked by women AND men because they aren’t stuck up, they aren’t self-centered, and they aren’t treating any outing we all have together as a competition over who can get the most free drinks from guys or who can intimidate the most women.

Maybe Brick needs to be more aware that her attitude, the self-serving way she views the world might be why women dislike her. It could possibly be that she seems to sneer down upon those she considers less attractive. I find her unattractive due to her arrogance and what seems like an unwillingness to even consider the possibility of other reasons she’s treated poorly.

I will say, though, this type of thing makes me incredibly grateful for the awesome friends I do have. They truly are incredible.

Running on Empty

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I do not know what the hell is wrong with me.

Don’t jump to conclusions. I am feeling fine right now when it comes to things in general, but I cannot get my fucking head straight with this running bit.

I have taken the last week off from training. The entire last week. It feels like it’s been the last month, and going back over my training schedule, where I actually track everything I do, it nearly has been.

March was shit for training, April is starting to look like it’s not going to be better.

That’s…..probably not so good what with the half marathon in a week and a half.

Surprisingly enough, when it comes to THIS race, I will be ok to just finish it. I know how horrible March was, I know how rough the last week has been, and so if I don’t get my goal time? Welp, ok then.

I know that this has a lot to do with the fact that I am EXHAUSTED. The insomnia is back never left, work’s gotten super busy which wears me out all day, and sometimes I just can’t even imagine doing anything besides laying on my couch when I get home.

This is rough.

I don’t want to get past this race, past Ragnar, and resent training. I am hoping that taking this week off for my physical sanity, my focus, will help.

Running is fun. I want it to stay fun.

No more time goal for this one. Possibly not one for the next one.

And dammit, if I want naked ice cream nights and a nap, then so be it.

Sugar….Ah, Honey, Honey

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This morning I had a cupcake for breakfast.

This afternoon I found out that my air conditioning is out. It is 90 degrees in my apartment.

Which is why tonight I stripped down and ate ice cream.

I might have announced that to Twitter and Facebook.

Oops.

If You Try Sometimes, You Get What You Need

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Can I just say I love you all for your comments and emails yesterday? Truly, I do. Seriously, you guys are the bestest (even the Anon, whose identity is still a mystery to me).

I feel, though, that there’s a teensy bit I should clarify.

When I say I know exactly what I want, it’s a list of intangibles, things that are the opposite of stuff I have seen and experienced in my past that led me down some incredibly painful roads. My list is one that may not describe a perfect person, as I don’t think anyone could possibly be perfect, but might describe someone who is perfect FOR ME. I don’t think it’s a bad list either. As my lovely friend Erratic pointed out, sometimes things on the “list” may have to take a back seat if the right person comes along, and while I know she’s absolutely correct, there are things on my list that are flat out non-negotiable. I will not go back to where I was nine years ago. I will never again be subjected to a partner who thinks it’s within his rights to control me. I don’t think I should have to either.

I want someone I can talk to.

I want someone who trusts me.

I want someone who doesn’t use guilt as a tool of manipulation.

I want someone who understands that I have my girlfriends and will spend time with them WITHOUT him.

I want someone who’s ok with that.

I want someone who doesn’t try to change things about me like how I dress, what I listen to, which sports teams I cheer for.

I want someone who’s willing to discuss opinions when we differ in mindsets, rather than getting angry because I don’t agree with him.

I want someone who is willing to admit when he’s wrong, someone who will forgive me when I’m wrong.

I want someone who will listen to me and understand that my feelings are valid, even if at times they come from a source best described as “the crazy part of Ann’s brain.” I’m capable of recognizing that I’ve been crazy, I promise. It just might take me a day or two.

I want someone I want to spend time with.

I want someone who won’t ignore what I’m saying just because it’s something he doesn’t want to hear.

I want someone who will hold my hand during the rough times.

I want someone who’s willing to cheer me on and encourage me, someone who will be my biggest fan.

I want someone who understands that I yell at the TV during hockey games. And baseball games. And football games even when I don’t have a favorite team. And curling. Oh hell, I yell at sports.

I want someone who makes me laugh. And someone who makes me think.

I want someone who makes me want to be a better person.

I want someone I don’t want to live without.

I want someone who loves me for who I am, who accepts every part of me, flaws and all, and is willing to navigate all the bumps in the road along the way. I want someone who is willing to work for it, for US, if it’s right. I want a partner and an equal, and someone who sees me as such.

I think this is a damn fine list.

Stronger

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Do you ever get those questions that just totally and completely throw you off guard? It’s hard to answer those questions, isn’t it?

Last night I was talking to a friend of mine. He knows that I’m pretty much an open book, will answer anything without incredibly good reason not to. This is why it shouldn’t have surprised me, yet it totally threw me for a loop, when our conversation took a drastic turn as he asked me, “So why are you still single?”

In certain situations, this question is more an insult than anything else, as it seems to be said with an air of “Well, you seem normal enough, but what kind of craziness are you hiding that has made you incapable of convincing someone to be in a relationship with you?” Fun, right? This time, though, it was just an honestly curious question.

Since he had asked, I regaled him with the last ten years (!!!) or so of my dating history.

Let me be incredibly honest with you guys for a minute. Ten years includes all of one long-term boyfriend (who sucked), four guys I’ve talked to/dated for about 3 weeks apiece, one that I was crazy about for a long time back in college who decided he’d rather not be in a relationship with me so we never technically dated, one I dated for only three months who went on shortly thereafter to be in multiple long-term, long distance relationships after having said he didn’t want either, a few who weren’t so much relationships as they were a physical means to an end, whatever you want to call the drama associated with That Friend, a few interests that never panned out into anything, and then the one I fell for who crushed me. Only four guys, an interest that didn’t pan to anything, two of those three-week-apiece types and then That Friend, actually fell within the last almost two years.

That is…..kind of depressing.

I wrapped everything up with, “Yeah, guys tend to think I’m better as a friend.”

Trust me, I am not saying that this is a bad thing. I adore the male friends I have, honestly and truly.

Sometimes, though. Sometimes it’s eye opening and a bit sad to see all that right in front of your face. It’s a cold-hearted truth, and brings up some insecurities I’d rather ceased to exist.

I am painfully aware that a lot of the briefness of these forays, as well as the long and drawn out periods of singledom, are very much and completely my own fault. I have incredibly high emotional walls and sometimes (ok, a lot of times) an antagonistic demeanor towards anyone who seems interested. I recognize that I have to be willing to actually let someone in if that whole perpetually single thing is going to go away.

I’m really bad at letting people in.

A lot of times I blame the ex-boyfriend for supremely fucking me up, or I’ll point at the last time I fell for someone to indicate just how well it works when I let someone get close to me. It’s so easy to just say, “Well, I’m so messed up because of how he treated me” or something similar. It’s a cop out, and I know it every single time those words leave my mouth. Every time.

The ex-boyfriend, former flings, interests, and receivers of my feelings might have left me broken and hurt and entirely shut down, but at this point, the biggest thing remaining is the clarity of knowledge about what I absolutely do and do not want.

That is one thing I have to be grateful for. I know EXACTLY what I do and do not want. I know that when a red flag makes its presence known, I pay attention. When my gut instinct starts screaming for me to walk away, I fucking listen. I don’t second-guess my gut instinct, even when it comes to giving second chances.

I know all this, and it makes me feel so much stronger than my 20-year-old self would ever have dreamed I could be.

You bet your sweet ass I am

There are those times, though, that I miss certain aspects of the dating bit. I miss feeling like someone can’t get enough of me. I miss reciprocal feelings. I miss laying in bed and just chatting about the mundane things of the day. I miss butterflies. I miss waking up and immediately checking my phone for any text I might have gotten while I was sleeping. I miss kisses that actually hold affection behind them rather than the “I’m drunk, and you’re right in front of me” kisses.

I miss WANTING someone to know every single thing about me, rather than actively trying to keep them out.

However, until that situation presents itself, IF if ever does, I’ll be just fine. I always am.

Doesn’t mean I’m lonely when I’m alone.