Brrrrr....

We're plunging again!

Picture this, friends: a team of people dressed up as characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, plunging into icy cold waters, all in the name of raising money for the Special Olympics.

It's "Team Apocalypse... We've All Been There!"

If you don't get that reference, e-mail me, we need to talk.

Kindly click here to donate if you'd like!

Stuff and things

I have a doctor's appointment that I am not looking forward to tomorrow (like, more than I can even tell you), so in attempt to distract myself, I feel I should mention several things that make me happy.

1. Angry girl music and breakup anthems by the likes of Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood, and Taylor Swift. Love it.
2. Pumpkin spice lattes.
3. Tomato soup, which I shall attempt to make myself tonight with tomatoes from my parent's garden.
4. Purple sweatpants.

I also just read an article on CNN about how heartbreak really does make your heart skip a beat. I KNEW I wasn't making that shit up when I thought my heart stopped for a second! Even now, I am still at a point where I don't feel whole. I feel like a piece of me is missing, and I don't feel like myself. Luckily, I have lots of kickass people around me. And my running shoes. And a Snuggie.

BIRTHDAY!

Yesterday, I turned 26.

I did not cry, at all, during the whole day. I was pleased. It actually a super fun birthday, even though I recently found out some info that temporarily put me back into the depths of despair. Whatever. IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY, BITCHES!

First, I went camping for the weekend at the coast with my heterosexual life mate. It was excellent weather, until the second night when a storm hit. Both our tents leaked, and we wandered away from our campsite for the day on adventures. When we returned, my tent had blown into the next camp site. And flooded. And the dish soap we brought was in a bag inside my tent. Let's just say... there were bubbles.

Chelse is the type of friend that knows what I am thinking when I don't have to say it, and she got me an excellent birthday gift that reminded me just how super cool she is. It was a good vacation.





Upon my arrival home, Shawna and I traveled with our neighbor to the local fro-yo joint, where we FREAKING SAW MATTHEW FOX. Yes. He was there. I saw him. It was the best birthday EVER.

Then, I dressed up crazy and had a dance party. And played pool. And drank... a lot.






Probably, I should be embarrassed to be me. But I'm not. Also, they gave me a Snuggie. It is awesome, and I am all set for spinsterhood. I also request that you all google "Snuggie Sutra" immediately.



I have to go watch the Britney Spears episode of Glee now. Whatever, my love for Britney Spears is never ending, despite the fact that I am now the ripe old age of 26.

Perspective

I spent the day yesterday volunteering at an event for homeless and needy families in Central Oregon. I had to spend time at a booth for my company, but I also helped out in a couple of the other areas as well.

The thing about my job is that every day I see the effects of recession and job loss, and I see the fear and hopelessness in people's eyes. In my line of work, I sometimes get to help these people. Yesterday there wasn't much I could do besides offer friendly words and do what I was able to help as a volunteer.

At one point I was speaking with an elderly Hispanic man, who told me he's nearing 70 and has worked as a construction laborer and welder for most of his life. He then said, "You know what job I'd like to have? I'd like to write you a song about how pretty you are!" I almost died. I turned bright red, and was laughing my ass off as he continued, "It would be a great song! I've written a few songs in my lifetime, I could sing one for you!" There was nothing I could do but giggle nervously. He and I were speaking in Spanish, so my non-Spanish speaking co-worker looked at me like I was a crazy person (or a tomato). He did sing one song for me, also.

As I was about to leave, a little girl of about 6 or 7 asked if I would play with her. She was bouncing a balloon around, so we hit it back and forth for awhile, and she thought I was super cool for stopping what I was doing to hang out with her. Her face haunted me all night, because as I came home to my warm, cozy bed I couldn't help but wonder if she and her family had a place to sleep that night, or if they were out on the street in the rain.

It's tough, my job. But it puts things into perspective. No matter how bad things get, no matter how many health scares I have, or how I feel when I find out the ex-boyfriend has a new girlfriend already after breaking up with me less than two months ago (yeah, that sucked), I know that I am currently safe. I have a home, I have family and friends who love me. It really could be so very much worse.

A new mission.

Operation: Super Hotness. Day 1.

So, there's this thing. The people who introduced me to the ex-boyfriend? They're getting married. In a year. I'm the maid of honor, and he's also in the wedding party methinks. Holy awkward.

This is my best friend of all time, so clearly I want her to have a fabulous wedding and not have awkwardness. I think a year will give me some time to not feel like I want to cry immediately upon seeing him. The most important thing is that she is happy, and has a wonderful day, and marries her super sweet manfriend and lives happily ever after.

But I also want to look super hot so the ex-boyfriend regrets ever letting me go. Is that wrong?

Probably, this means I should not sit on the couch so much. I should run. And eat vegetables. And get back to being my super awesome self. And make my pants fit again. Also, if my boobs could get bigger, that would be nice, but I know that won't happen.

I'm not going to lie, my summer spent in the depths of despair led to the scale and I getting into an argument recently. When I get stressed out, my ass like to gain a couple sizes. I have a year, and I would like to both feel better about myself and feel healthier than I do right now. Also, I would like to be even more awesome.

I realize I am shallow. I don't care. He can kick rocks. I would just like for him to kick rocks AND realize that he's a douche and never should have let me go. Spite is an excellent motivator for me. I ran a marathon to get over the other ex. I really need to re-think my choice in men, probably.

Is that asking too much?

I have something to say.

It is always an EXCELLENT idea to go for a run that ends at your coworker's house for a glass of wine. Like, seriously. Probably one of my greatest. I have a coworker who reads Tarot cards, and likes to give me wine... Whenever things first went down earlier this summer, he had me over and cards showed up with swords stabbing hearts and whatnot. It actually made me feel much better. So tonight I went for a run and ended it at his house (4 miles later), and he gave me more wine and did a quick reading... It was filled with promise and happy things, which I find pleasant. Last time he basically said, "Yeah, your life sucks right now, but it will get better" and this time he said, "Okay, you're moving forward, that's good. Life won't suck quite as much." There was a guy with a cup and a horse involved, or something.

I'm not sure I believe in Tarot cards, but it's fun to hear what he has to say. Regardless, I DO believe in wine! I'd like to think that things will stop sucking soon. Judging by the fact that I actually made it out the door for a run, and it helped me clear my head, and I've gone whole days without crying (not in a row though, I'm working on that) I think I might be handling things a little better. Apparently I'm not a normal girl, who can just be broken up with and cry a little and be okay. Instead I have to be broken up with, have a health scare, and have crazy other things happen to me alllllll at the same time.

If I do things, I go big.

Yes, I am a little tipsy right now. My point is, today I went for a run. I have gotten out of bed every day. I have gone to work. I have put on a happy face and tried not to let onto too many people what I'm going through. And I think soon I may put on a happy face and it will really be happy. That's what I hope, at least.

Ain't life a bitch?

Hilarious things I said to an old friend while updating her on the past four months of my life:
"Meh. I'm not dead. Or homeless. And I just ate a burrito, so really things are looking up!"
"My doctor is a rude bitch. Actually she's a really nice lady. I feel badly that I said that about her. But she has bad timing!"
"Is it wrong to go for a run and end my run at a coworker's house for a glass of wine? Like... How much does that defeat the purpose?"

I thought I would be so very different at 26. Yes, I know I'm not 26 for two more weeks. I'm rounding up!

This weekend I shall volunteer all day at an event for the homeless. Also, I shall run, and attend a baby shower. You know you're jealous.

I'm off to run... and probably drink wine. Whatever. Don't judge!

Ch-ch-ch-changes....

Shawna and I have decided we are too limited if we say our blog is about fitness and healthy living. Plus, we drink a lot of beer.

So... you may have noticed that we tend to wander, and changed our blog header thingy. This is because we decided our blog would be more suited to be about living life in our late 20's (when did we get so old?) with musings on running and being healthy tied in.

Don't lie, you always knew we get distracted from our topics anyway...

Seriously though, when did we get old? Just yesterday I was in my early 20's.

One bottle of wine later...

Um, I got a tattoo last night.

It wasn't planned. I decided to do it, and ten minutes later needles were being turned on. Let me explain...

In high school, I became friends with an exchange student from the Netherlands. She is hilarious, and I spent the majority of my senior year with her and my friend who went missing at sea a few years ago. I haven't seen her in seven years, but she turned up on my door step without warning this week while she is travelling around the world for a year. I must say, it was impeccable timing given my recent bouts of insanity and crying. She's very entertaining, and quite good at distracting me.

Last night, we drank a bottle of wine and ate some red vines, and in the process we forgot to eat dinner. Then came more wine. Then came a decision to float the river, even though it was super cold, and we took Shawna along with us. There, a drunken idea was born... We decided to get matching tattoos to always remember each other and our friend that went missing. Conveniently, I live a block away from a tattoo parlor. Also conveniently, we were drunk and therefore very spontaneous.

I woke up this morning and was very relieved to find that I still love it, and I'm glad we did it. There are very few friends that would randomly get a tattoo with me, but I'm glad she is one of them.

It didn't hurt that much, either. When the tattoo artist started doing it, I said, "Oh, is that all? I can take that!" She said given the amount of abuse my feet appear to have suffered from running, it looked like I had put them through worse. Ha.

So yes. I'm tattooed. And slightly hungover.

September

I had the following goals in August:
1. Run a 5k in approximately 2 weeks, after convincing my running buddy to join me. For funsies.
2. Run Hood to Coast on August 27 & August 28. 19 miles in 2 days. Do not die while completing said goal, and try not to run 15 minute miles due to lung failure.
3. Bounce back. I don't like being in the depths of despair.
4. Purchase a kickass running skirt. Again, for funsies.
5. Kick butt during the last two months of the Biggest Loser contest with Shawna & co.
6. Feel like myself again.

And the results...
1. Did it. Didn't suck too badly.
2. Did it. Sucked a little, but oh well.
3. Meh. Other stuff happened to add on top of everything else, so I feel like this might take awhile.
4. I forgot about this one, actually.
5. We quit our competition, cause it made us feel like crap about ourselves. I'm okay with it.
6. Again, meh.

So... September is here. I shall attempt the following:
1. Run. Just run. When I want to, where I want to, at my pace. Get back to being the person that I was before, who would run for stress relief and didn't care what other people thought about her pace or ability.

2. Financial plan--get one. People in their late 20's should be more financially responsible than I am.

3. Get healthy. I don't care how much I weigh, I just don't feel right at the moment. Eat better, drink water, limit post-breakup cocktails.

4. Brush my hair at least once a week. The curly look is okay, but I feel like I should look more professional and less like I'm an airhead who doesn't own a hairbrush.

5. Do not cry on my birthday. Repeat: Do. Not. Cry. I am not really having an easy time, and I cry a lot, and I just feel like that's a day that I should not be sad.

Late 20's?

In 26 days I will turn 26.

...

This is not how I envisioned my life would be at the age of 26.

When I was much younger, I thought I would be an architect, married, and have children at this age (I had just seen "Father of the Bride" and thought she totally had the right idea).

A few years ago, I thought I would be a hard-hitting journalist with an amazing career and probably have a super handsome boyfriend who adored me, and would most likely win awards all the time and be awesome.

Last year, I was dating the guy I thought I would marry, and felt like my life had finally turned around after the disasterous events from the year prior. I was in the best shape of my life, and set to run a marathon the following weekend. I really felt like I knew where my life was going, and I was happy with the direction it was headed.

So, here I am... late 20's quickly approaching. I am single, and exceptionally broken hearted, but I know I can live life on my own because I am good at taking care of myself. I have had events in recent days come close to hurting my spirit, but I am trying not to let them. I have a career, and I am very happy with it, even though it is something I never saw myself doing. I feel like I make a difference in people's lives, even though mine is sort of turned upside down at this point. I have my running shoes, and still plan to lace them up and hit the pavement in attempt to figure some things out. Someday, life will make sense.

This isn't how I pictured it.