This is going to be a very short post because I’m freaking out right about now.
The Tri is in 3 days. And, while yes, I knew it was coming. And I’ve been counting down to it. Somehow it still didn’t feel “real”.
It’s all kinds of real now. I have been assigned a race-bib number (#312). And a swim wave number (#3 with the orange caps). It’s happening, you guys. It’s official and real and OH. MY. GOAT!
If you need me, I’ll be in the corner, hyperventilating. And sobbing.
I’m relatively new to this whole blogging thing. And anyone who stops by here can tell that I really have no idea what I’m doing! 😀
I would love for my blog to look nice, draw people in, and encourage them to stop by more often. Okay, it would help if I actually posted on a regular basis too, but I digress…
Anyhoo, a little event called BlogHer is happening very soon. The way I understand it is that it’s a convention of fabulous bloggers. They all get together and talk about their fabulous blogs, and how to make them better, and they party and get free stuff and meet each other and on and on. I’m really very jealous about the whole thing.
I haven’t been, and financially will likely not be able to go for many years. So I do BlogHerAtHome. (I think last year there was a HomeHer event too. Great fun!!)
I want to enter the BHAH giveaway! You can find details here.
Since the event is BlogHER, I was going to suggest drinks like Vaginal Secretions (SoCo, Lemonade, Squirt, lime juice, triple sec, margarita mix) or Titty-TwisterRita (Bacardi 151, Tropicana, lime juice, Sweet and sour, daiquiri mix, ice), but since I’m all classy up in here, and the ACTUAL BlogHer is being held in Sandy Eggo, I am submitting:
San Diego Seabreeze
1 oz Vodka
1/2 oz Raspberry schnapps
1/2 oz Blueberry schnapps
1/2 part OJ (the juice, not the killer)
1/2 part Pineapple juice
1 tsp Blackberry Brandy
All ingredients in a collins glass, cover, shake, serve, sip.
Sounds good, no?
Please pick me. 🙂
How old are you?
Do you feel that age?
I don’t. I’m 44 and most of the time I don’t *feel* 44. Not that I really know what I’m *supposed* to feel like. But I usually feel younger, in the sense that I imagine I have so much more time to get where other 44 year olds are. Does that make any sense?
And granted, there are many times that I feel WAY older than 44.
I don’t know, but lately, I’ve been looking around at where others are in their lives, and think: I’m 44. Shouldn’t I be married? And in a job that I don’t hate? And with money in the bank? And booking at least 1 foreign trip a year? Shouldn’t I feel more settled?
I don’t know if this is a function of my recent “search” for peace, or if I am just restless, or if I am just in vacation-mode (2 weeks vacation after Friday! YAY!)
I think I am young in mind and attitude. I think I have a childlike naivete about some things. I still make rookie mistakes in life.
But is this normal? What is normal? What should 44 feel like?
163 days ago, I broke my comfort zone. I don’t know what I was thinking of at the time, but it seemed then like a really good idea.
14 days from now, it will be done. My life will be forever changed, for good or bad. I think it will be for good, so that’s how I’m approaching it.
I had such high hopes and grand plans to get ready for this. I started a “Couch to 5K” program, since I HATE RUNNING. I knew it would be my least favorite portion, so I thought I would train most on that. Within a month, I had a beautiful squishy lump on my knee and couldn’t run. It was identified as runner’s knee and was followed by 2 months of PT. I will be walking the running portion.
I’m getting pretty good at the biking portion. For years, I said I was going to start riding my bike to work, since I live only 7 miles away from the Gas ‘n Sip. This gave me an excuse to actually do it. Of course, I am incredible at coming up with excuses to NOT ride, but so far, I have gotten more use from my bike this summer than I have in the past 10 years.
The swimming was the portion I was least worried about. However, putting on a wetsuit? YIKES! I decided that I would deal with it with the same attitude I deal with getting a massage – they have seen bodies FAR better and FAR worse than mine. And after I attended a swim clinic, that is so true! I’m fine.
I have 2 weeks to mentally prepare. I’ll get there.
And thanks to my extraordinarily generous friends (and some strangers) I have managed to raise almost $750 for breast cancer research. That was the main purpose of signing up. I’m very pleased about that fact.
Thank you for your support! I’ll let you know how it goes.
We’ve all heard it. Heck, we’ve all said it:
“You choose your attitude.”
“What you put out comes back to you.”
“Thoughts become things.”
And on and on.
And d’you know what? MOST of the time, I really do believe that stuff. I really do.
Most of the time.
But how do you go back to that frame of reference when circumstances in life have left you feeling so tired, so beat up, so discouraged, so blue, that that frame of reference might just as well be on Pluto?
It’s no secret I have depression, controlled most days with happy yellow pills. I would love to not take them, or not have to take them, but for now, they are my best friends.
And because of my best friends, most days, I can be like Wonder Woman and her super-power wrist bands, fighting off anything yucky.
Lately, though, the batteries on my super-power wrist bands must be dead. I just can’t hear anything bad right now.
But, and here’s the thing, I HATE asking for help. Hate it. Hate. It. And I HATE venting/dumping/unburdening whatever it is I’m going through on people I love or who love me. I don’t want to burden them, or make my problems, their problems. Or worse, have them tell me their problems so that I know they know what I’m talking about? And then I’ll take on their problems too!! (My back just tensed even typing that!)
Okay, you’re thinking. Go talk to a stranger. Go to therapy. See a counsellor. I get that. I’ve done that. And I liked it. But actually finding a therapist with whom I am comfortable? Not so easy. The last one I went to made me feel I was in a principal’s office. Hard, straight-back chair, no pillows, no arm-rests, no tissues. She sat behind her desk and looked at me (in my mind) disapprovingly. And when I would curse? Oh, dear goat. You would think I just kicked her ferret.
Not good. So now I’m a little gun-shy, so to speak.
I REALLY want to get back to believing those happy statements.
So, I’m dumping my woe into the interwebs, so that I can let it go. Sorry to be a debby-downer.
I am restless.
I can’t concentrate on any one thing.
Is agitated the right word?
And it’s just out of my reach.
What is “it”?
What is it that I am trying to find?
Will I ever get there?
Will I even know when I do?
How do I find the stillness to stop and listen?
Do you know Chibijeebs? I don’t. Not really. I follow her on twitter, but I don’t know her. I’ve never met her in person, and, like most people I follow on twitter, likely never will. But I have such admiration for her, that sometimes it feels a little creepy, even to me.
She has no idea I’m writing this post. And since there are really only about 4 of you who actually read this blog, it’s probably a safe bet that she never will. However, I’m going to put a link to her blog, so she might. If so, HI CHIBI! *waves*
So why am I writing a slightly ooky post about some woman I have never met? I have a bit of a girl crush on her.
There. I said it.
I don’t even remember how I started following Chibijeebs on twitter. Someone recommended her to me, and for that, I am grateful. She is lovely. And delightful. And an inspiration to me. She posts links to empowering and uplifting articles. And she is never shy about being honest about herself.
After I got to know her on twitter, I started
stalking her reading her blog. Part of her blog is her story. And while I admit that I started reading her story with a morbid curiosity (sort of like those rubber-neckers on the highway, looking at an accident), I finished reading her story because it portrayed a woman of great strength and integrity and awareness. So many people in this world blame their upbringing for being horrible, destructive people. If you read Chibijeebs story, you will see that a bad childhood is NOT a reason for behaving badly.
stalk follow Chibijeebs on Pinterest. Many of the things she posts there I end up “liking” or repinning.
I’m pretty sure that if I were to meet Chibijeebs in person, I would like her immensely. I learn from almost everything she writes. I’m sure I would learn from her by being her friend.
I hope this isn’t too strange. As part of my year of KIND, I want to take the time to tell people good things. I do it in real life too. There is a house near my parents that recently changed owners. I know this because for the past year, we have been watching the transformation of the property from one of extraordinary disrepair to one that is clean, neat and beautifully landscaped.
One day, after visiting my parents, I was riding my bike home and saw the owner in the yard. I pulled in to tell her what a tremendous job she has done. We talked for a bit and then I went on my way. I hope that visit made her smile. Just as I hope this post lets Chibijeebs know that what she writes/posts makes a difference in someone else’s life.
Thank you, Chibijeebs.
Update: Okay, before I hit publish, I asked her if it would be okay. I don’t want invade anyone’s privacy or make them uncomfortable. So I have permission. *whew*