Flashback to 1999/early 2000s when this song was everywhere. Remember that your choices are half chance! (So are everyone else's!)
Random things that I want to talk about. I like shopping online, working out, environmental issues, traveling, and current events. I'm also a cheechako, as I'm only 1/2 way through the 20 year requirement to lose that title, so I might talk about local issues and surprising facts about the northernmost state.
Flashback to 1999/early 2000s when this song was everywhere. Remember that your choices are half chance! (So are everyone else's!)
It's spring. I can smell it. Other clues include the snow melting and my driveway being a lake, my cat wanting to be outside sunbathing instead of inside attached to me, people smiling instead of being grumpy gus-es , and the seagulls returning to terrorize the neighborhood.
It seems like everyone is getting married and having babies and going on amazing vacations. Of course I go on amazing vacations too, but Facebook makes me think that other people's vacations are way better. Speaking of Facebook - according to a thread on reddit and other anecdotal evidence, Facebook is for old people. Great. I finally got around to using mine and now I find out it's not cool? I gave up twitter in 2009, I don't feel interesting enough for instagram, and snapchat make me feel stupid.
Work is fine, if both boring and busy. I hear I'm supposed to job hop more to get the real money. Still regretting not going into computer science because it wasn't cool in 2001. Maybe I should have titled this post "regrets."
I was a huge supporter of Obama because of his health insurance plan. And then we got stuck with "Obamacare" which is anything but affordable if you don't live in one of the big cities. My "insurance" is now three times as much as it was three years ago, and offers less. Four years ago I didn't have health insurance and I think I might go back to that.
So now I get to decide if I want to pay into my retirement plan or pay for insurance. OR, I can just not have health insurance and still pay a $695 fee. FUN TIMES. LOVE IT.
Warning: This is kind of ranty and I probably sound incredibly selfish & self centered (not to mention ungrateful). Personal thoughts on Christmas below.
I hesitate to flat out say that I "hate" Christmas.
But I kind of do hate it. It's stressful. It overshadows all the other holidays. It's so stupidly materialist and terrible.
I remember being a kid and it seemed kind of magical. There were light shows, and it was dark and cold and that was always sort of fun. It used to snow and you could go out side and make a snowman or go skiing or ice skating with family members. Now it seems like snow is a thing of the past. And Christmas just sort of sucks. It's dark and the music sucks and everything is either super religious or super tacky.
But my main complaint is the stupid gifts. I HATE gift giving. I hate the boring conversations that happen after the holidays with my coworkers which is really just a competition over who is the most loved/has the most money, because OBVIOUSLY no sane person can show their love without a display of wealth. I hate that its been getting steadily worse, ever since about 6th grade. The competition over who received the most gifts, who received the best gifts, where you went for Christmas. It's absurd. Even in college, where I thought there would be other poor people (there weren't), someone made fun of me for getting the "wrong" type of iPod AS A GIFT FROM MY PARENTS WHO HAVE NO MONEY.
I don't WANT my parents who aren't very wealthy to get me anything. I do not want to have to curate a list with affordable items - they won't listen to my suggestions anyway (I ask for a specific brand of wool socks, and they send cotton, which I won't wear; I ask for an REI gift card, I get a gift card to a restaurant that doesn't exist in my region), and then they end up wasting money. I don't want to have the conversation at work about "what did you do for the holidays?" which is really just a way for the question asker to brag about what they got people, and what they received. I don't care what shitty new electronic or jewelry you got. I really don't care about what fishing gear you received and I don't really want to have a conversation about whatever new possessions I happened to receive as a gift. It's embarrassing and weird. I think this year I might try baking and distract people from that conversation with pie. Oh, my holiday was fine! Here, I made pie. Retreat to office, pick up phone and close door.
I also hate buying for my parents and SO. My parents are hard to buy for because I don't know them, at all, and they just say stuff like "i don't want anything dear." And anything too expensive would embarrass them, and I just am bad at buying gifts. The SO is also hard because ... well, we sort of just buy what we need when we need it and budget for what we want, and neither of us like having extra possessions, so ... what? He just bought a new hydration pack, which is what I got him last year. This one is smaller, and I would have got it for him. He just bought a new sleeping bag; a tent isnt in my budget right now. He's picky about his shoes; he doesn't need clothing. He just built a new computer, so that's out. Not that a computer would fit my budget. I'll probably get a game off of Steam, but I don't think there's anything he's excited for right now. Maybe
I wish we could just... not do the stupid gifts. And I really want Santa to stop global warming instead of buying rich kids expensive toys and poor kids less. Or at the very least, figure out how to help all the kids who asked for better health or for their parents to be alive again. Come on, Santa, you are supposed to be a magical guy. Do something magical. Also, please find a new outfit. Your red velvet suit is in need of a wash.
So here I am, in 2016, watching this film again. Because I saw a tumblr about something and I was like, "Yeah, I totally feel like harry in Goblet of Fire." No one is actually talking to me, I've got this huge task in front of me and everyone thinks I'm doing stuff but I'm actually not because I'm completely terrified about failing...
Anyway, so this movie is TERRIBLE.
I never realized how terrible it is. I love HP. I read the first two books because my mom got them for me when I was a senior in high school and a local public school was going on and on about banning them for witchcraft. I read the third book right after I graduated. I stayed up all night to read. I went to get book four, but surprise! It was sold out because it had just been released. Great timing on my part, I suppose. I've never really loved the movies, but I do I like them. Despite their inconsistency. And despite my absolute undying obsessive love of Harry Potter, I do not really like JK Rowling. She's made wonderful books that really speak to me, but I'm just not into the fangirl-ing of the author. If that bothers you, please just keep it to yourself. I have lots of reasons, I'm glad she's donating to charity, I just am still upset about some of the legal stuff that happened with a fan site.
But beyond that, I came here to talk about the film version of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.
First off. The doctor. The BEST or possibly second best after Christopher Eccleston... no, the best doctor. 10. Is fucking creepy in this movie. He's in the first scene. And it's weird. We jump to Harry. He wakes up from a dream (the last scene) and Hermione is yelling at him and Ron. You are not their mother, Hermione. Let Molly yell at Ron. Or just don't yell at your friends when they are sleeping. You are really quite terrible at this particular moment and I do not like you.
They teleport to the Quidditch World Cup. I'm irritated that they kept this in the movie but skipped the house elf politics. OK, they take a portkey, not teleport. Which is dumb because they don't explain it to us and Arthur just snaps at Harry. Obviously anyone watching this has read the books, right? Oh, but no. I had a friend in college who was like WTF? He refused to read the books until the movies were done. He liked movies and wanted to watch them "unspoiled." I thought that was weird at the time, but he's working in Hollywood and is moderately successful so who knows.
I tune out and play some lego indiana jones.
There is some stuff that happens. I question wtf the foreign students are doing for a year while one person from their school competes in a tournament which is all of three tasks over the entire year. I also question the fact that the quidditch "field" is closed, AS THEY PLAY IN THE SKY.
I come back when Hermione is yelling at the twins. She's annoying me and I don't like that.
Harry is chosen for the tournament. Dumbledore yells at him. There are grown up politics here that aren't being explored.
Harry is lonely.
Hermione comes to yell at Harry because for some reason in this movie, she's on Ron's side. And he's pissed and jealous. In the books she helps Harry. In this movie, she yells at him after conveying some convoluted message from Ron.
Dragons happen. Harry is mature about it. It's weird.
Hermione is snotty to Ron about the dress robes. Your friend is poor, Hermione. Cut him some slack. They go to the Yule Ball. Everyone is happy. Except for Ron and Harry who are basically sitting in the corner by themselves. Don't tell me they don't love each other. Hermione is a bitch. She tells her friends to go to bed. Shes' not their mom. Why don't they tell her to STFU. And if she wanted to go with Ron (which she didn't, because, hello, Krum is way sexier than the weirdo poor ginger in her class) then why didn't she just ask him?
They have all this magical talent and Moody has to wear a fake eye? They couldn't magic him back to having two eyes?
How is this school OK with putting children in the water to be rescued?
Edward dies. SO SAD.
Moody is BAD EVIL OMG.
VOLDEMORT IS BACK, BABY.
I'll do a much better recap of the next one because I won't have to do it from memory.
I appear to have lost the ability to create/choose my own tags. I also don't have my FJ Reviews Blog listed anymore Noting this here because sometimes people with the answers read my blogs. I know, I know, I could have asked in Tech, but I'll probably forget by the time I navigate to that forum.
So the other evening the winds had turned and the potato plants had died a while ago, so we decided it was time to harvest everything. While I was picking through the bushes looking for beans and peas, I was struck with memories of doing the same thing with my grandmother. Unlike her neat and orderly garden, my garden is a giant mess. Kind of like my life. Not that my life is a giant disaster right now, but it's certainly not the most orderly. I did not follow the traditional method of going to school, taking dance, getting into the "right" societies and volunteering. I didn't meet a boy in high school and go to the dances. No "coming out" party or cotillion. I didn't go away to college to get my Mrs. degree. I moved far away from my family, I argued, I fought, I spent money, I got arrested, I eventually settled for a boring life with a messy house and a cat that just showed up one day and never left. I suppose my point is that I am a person who "lets life happen." I plan some stuff. I plan where we go on vacations, I plan to show up to work, I plan my training schedule and I have, at times, planned my meals. I've also, in the past few years, managed to start being a responsible adult and looked into financial planning and I set up an investment account and a retirement account.
Anyway, so while I was pulling and plucking the fruits of the bushes labor, and a summer of my neglect, I remembered my grandmother and my aunt who always had pretty, preplanned, attractive gardens. Not vines that vined on pieces of old fencing, current fencing, and random objects we found lying about. They had/have flower. I imagined myself writing about this garden and trying to find a metaphor for how my grandmother's life was so different than those of us in the post civil rights post 9-11 post and tying that into the wild leaves of my garden vs her tamed and proper flowers and sugar snap peas. Of course, I'm not the writer in the family, that would be the aforementioned aunt who had a much messier life than my grandmother who hated the idea of being a grandparent, but yet still had a reasonably ordered garden. With trees and flowers and arches and a place to sit, my sad little clump of oversized Alaskan vegetables growing wild on random items that other people considered trash looks like it would be better suited in a movie about a reclusive family and a secret garden that only a plucky orphan can save.
My grandmother lived through the roaring 50s, always wore red lipstick and red nail polish, had terrible gifts, and was straight out of a movie at times. Also her cooking involved a lot of cream and butter. At some point she sort of forgot what expiration dates were so I have some wonderful memories of running to the toilet. I miss her lots, because she really held that side of my extended family together. I also wonder if I would have made different choices if she were still alive. Her house was always immaculate (except for the kitchen.) She liked to laugh and gossip with the neighbors.
I don't really know where I'm going with this blog post. I suppose it is like my pile of dirty vegetables, unplanned, organic, and half-assed. That's OK with me.
When I was a kid, until I was, oh, 5 or so, friends were easy. I was friends with the children of my parents friends who were my age.
Then we moved. And we moved again and again and again. Even when we weren't moving every few years, for some reason my parents thought it would be best to put me in different schools every so often. This wasn't as big of a deal as other people made it out to be. Especially since I knew that as soon as I went to college I'd have to leave everyone behind anyway..
Anyway, so I had this hope that someday, in college, I'd have this zany group of friends and we'd get up to hijinks.
Or at something like this
I'd dreamed of late nights with long intelligent conversations about art and music and humanity. With wacky hijinks.
But instead it was more like this
And I told myself that since I was going to move away after college it didn't matter that much. (I had a few friends, btw. Just nothing like the "serious deep friendships" that I was lead to believe happened in college.)
I was going to move away and then this would be my life!
Let's not talk about Carrie's fashion choices or my version of her outfit (complete with headscarf.) Never mention it again. I have hopefully removed all photos from the internet.
There was never this in my future.
Why are they all touching? That's WEIRD. Stop touching! Go get jobs! How do you afford your apartment? Even with the rent control, it's unbelievable.
I have, however, in the last ten years managed to make friends who I don't work with, go to school with, or am otherwise forced to socialize with. But that leads me to the next problem with friends.
The goodbye party.
Sometimes they are fun.
They are always sad.
Anyway, so one day I had this:
And now I am back to this.
Which is also nice.
I know I promised mountain goats.
This is that story. Please don't leave because of the title.
As long as I have lived here, I've been able to "group" the tourists. (Well, the ones that make themselves known as tourists.) They show up. They help our economy. They drive us all mad.
We've got the cruise ship crowd
Wealthy, elderly, generally happy and slightly clueless. Most of these tourists are harmless. Fun story; last year we went on a couple of whale watching/glacier viewing "cruises" that I won through work. Very lovely experience, saw TONS of wildlife. Met lots and lots of tourists. One in particular stands out. Family of normal people, plus one older "gentle"man who was presumably married to one of the women. This guy...
Was basically Richard Gilmore. If, of course, Richard Gilmore was not a fictional lovable character, and instead was a rich man with an east coast accent claiming to be from a wealthy suburb of San Diego. This guy was unreal. He complained about his hotels (fair enough, my state isn't known for it's 5 star resorts.) He complained because he likes to travel and stay in his hotel room and smoke cigars. He complained because he can see whales at his local beach. He complained because the cruise was non smoking. He complained that we had to share a table for lunch and lunch was just random sandwiches. He complained that he was in a beautiful place and no one was listening to him complain about the lack of accommodation for his "needs" - needs being fancy scotch and cigars. Damn, it. Look at the orcas that are breaching two feet away. Look at the glaciers. Look at the dolphins and the jellyfish and the sea lions and otters and the puffins and the scenery. I don't know why I thought "Richard Gilmore." Grandpa Gilmore is a nice person. This guy was nice and actually pleasant, just, I guess, demanding. Also, he had the same accent and cadence with his voice.
But I digress.
The other group of tourists tend to be Asian. Someone told me that Japanese people come to [my state] to try and conceive under the Northern Lights. I'm not sure I believe that. Regardless of the reason, we got a LOT of East Asian tourists. This is fine with me, as I find the winter outfits (coats, sometimes snowpants, usually boots) while I am running and sweating in tank tops and short shorts to be charming. I also like the girls who go on the nature cruises and terrify me with their snapchats/instagrams/selfies and lack of care with holding their devices over open water.
The third group of tourists are the least annoying and that is the European Backpackers. I like these people because I never see them. They come in, they backpack in Denali, maybe climb a couple of mountains, they talk to us locals in bars and they have a great time. These people are the best.
The worst tourists are the Americans who come here after reading a book about a guy who lived in an abandoned bus and died. They backpack to the bus, and about 50% of them need rescue. WHY? Why is a book/movie about some guy who was unprepared for the wilderness "speaking to you"? Why go on this pilgrimage? Why is this a thing?
There are also the young Americans who come here, maybe backpack a little, go to the tourist places, and then have a nice story to tell to their friends. I like these guys/girls too. Mostly because I do not see them and only hear of them.
I forgot about the crowd of Team in Training peeps who show up twice a year to run our marathons. I like these people, wish they wouldn't litter.
And finally. This new group of tourists.
We (Me and some friends) went backpacking. It's a popular trail. I had no expectations that I would be alone in the wilderness like so many times before. I was, however, surprised when we got to the "top" and found our desired campsite occupied by a village of tents. Matching tents. Tents that had a troop number printed on them.
So we bucked up, said "whatever," and found a spot across the lake.
In the morning we assessed the situation. The situation being that it rained all night and everything was still kind of wet. So instead of packing up and hiking through the pass, we decided to stay another night at the lake, boy scouts be damned, and do some day hikes. We hiked around a bit. I thought about swimming in the glacier fed lake (I always have this debate with myself. I love swimming and I can swim in cold water. I know better and I never swim in these ice water lakes.) We heard some of the boy scout troop talking about seeing a Grizzly. I perked up.
After a while, one of the troop leaders asked us if we saw the grizzly.
I said no, and asked them to point it out.
We discussed where it was and one of the teenage boys passed me a pair of cheap binoculars. (Side note: I thought boy scouts stopped after jr high.)
I looked and the SO used his camera to take a photo.
First thought was "this isn't a bear."
SO said "that bear has the skinniest legs I've ever seen."
I said "Well, could it be a mountain goat?" I listed off the reasons that it was not a dall sheep. (Sheep stay in groups, goats are more solitary. Sheep suck, Goats are awesome. You know, strictly the facts.)
I pointed out that it's white, and in south-central [my state], it's unlikely to see a polar bear. Everyone, include my SO tried to convince me it was a light brown.
I rolled my eyes.
They told me it's a bear.
I asked where they were from, not rudely, of course. Although this recap makes me sound rude.
They told me all about how they were a boy scout troop from.. somewhere. Virginia maybe? Carolina? Fuck if I know.
They said they don't have bears. I told them that there are, in fact, black bears all the way from Michigan to Florida. They laughed and told me "not grizzly bears" (brown bears, I think, is a term only used in my region.)
Eventually we wandered off.
Later that day, we overheard a conversation.
"ITS A DADDY BEAR! HE HAD SOME BABY BEARS IN THE CAVE AND THEY CAME OUT AND NOW THE DADDY BEAR IS BEING A DADDY!"
I don't even know where to begin with that.
When we got back to our tent, we looked at our map of the state park. The mountain that a large portion of adult chaperones and a handful of teens were staring at was called...
wait for it...
I uploaded some pictures. You can make your own choices as to what the white animal with skinny legs and a goat like disposition is.
Also, I'm disappointed that the troop leader didn't seem to have any actual activities planned for these boys. For two days! At least plan a day hike, or self rescue class on the glacier or something. Don't just hiking a crowd of teenage boys a few miles from the road, set up camp, and leave them to their own devices for 2-3 days.
Summer Solstice has come and gone. While this isn't exactly the end of summer, it's definitely a turning point. Day length has peaked with 19 hours, 21 minutes, and 32 seconds of daylight. I'm not quite ready to turn in my flip-flops, tank-tops, and other assorted hyphenated signs-of-summer yet. I am, however, ready for some deep sleep. With that, here are some random thoughts from this week.
According to this "article" which cites NOAA, only two states in the US will NOT experience hotter than average temperatures this year. Unfortunately, they are states that are already pretty hot during the summer.
Here's to you, Nebraska and Kansas! Way to escape the heat by already being hot in the summer.
Recently, I took a vacation to Hawaii. One of the last things we did was look at a "Living History Coffee Farm." This was not something we had planned, this was something to do between check-out time and flight time. This turned out to be one of the memorable moments of the trip.
As I drove to the farm, which was very conveniently located, I noticed the landscape changing from the almost-desert of North Kona into the green South Kona. The farm was a tiny remnant of 1913. There was a donkey, a proper sized donkey, unlike the tiny wild desert donkeys I'd seen just about every day. This donkey, according to the shopkeeper, is 20 years old, named Charlie, and his job was to look pretty and take pictures with people. However, a sign alerted me to the fact that Charlie's earlier farm relatives were not so lucky. A donkey his size would have carried four bags of coffee! And probably worked to death. :-(
Beyond the donkey, there were both macadamia trees and coffee trees, and working equipment from the early 1900s. The work the people must have put into this farm was more that most Americans today would bother with. Picking, pruning, drying, packaging, on top of daily simple living. They dried the coffee in the sun, but they had to move it if there was even the slightest chance of rain, because rain would ruin it.
But the part I really wanted to mention was the farm house. The very small farm house that housed 8-12 children. The people who worked the coffee land were Japanese, so this was a very Japanese style home. They had straw mats on the floor, a rice cooker, and the women in charge showed us how the mother (who would have been sent to marry the man, sight unseen) would make meals and clothing for 8-12 children. It was eye-opening.
They also showed us a typewriter. Every Japanese family had one for the children, as they prioritized education over so many other things.
There were lots of things that we talked about - how nice and simple life must have been. How much work. How how it was. We were left with one unanswered question, purposely avoided, and that was of Japanese Internment during WWII. This came up when we saw that the tenant cabin was turned into a required bomb shelter during the war.
But I keep going back to that typewriter and the prioritization of education. These were people who made clothing from old rice bags. People who worked 12 to 16 hours a day, and they wanted their children to be educated.
What the hell is wrong with Americans and this culture of anti-intellectualism? We didn't have a revolution (like China) where we collectively looked down on the intellectuals as being part of the elite. But for some reason we are still equating that who has the most money with intelligence.
Don't get me wrong, I'd love to have a revolution. People crowding the streets of their capitals (well, not mine, they put mine on an island (essentially, not technically) and a flight from the biggest city is still $400ish for a last minute flight). I'd love to see people shunning the rich and powerful bourgeoisie. I'd like to see things like the Oscars, where rich people give other rich people awards and wear overpriced clothing get cancelled. I want the masses to come together and forget about which Kardashian is getting married and who is having a baby and instead talk about what they are willing to do to fight climate change. To change the minds of the millions of very terrible people who seem to think that no one is owed anything, including an education. I want to find a way to get everyone working for spending power, shorter work weeks, better work/life separation & balance.
I understand that people can care about both the K family and Climate Change. The K family aren't the problem, but the lack of interest in education is.I want women and men to be recognized for what they can do, not their instagram feed. To find value in being smart and friendly and changing the world for the better, not for having two phones. (Seriously the dumbest song I've heard in a month or so. In another month there will be another terrible pop song.)
I said I was staying away from FJ today.
Here is a video.
This was going to be about how I'm (finally) on a taper for my training. But instead, enjoy this video of the tapir.
No wonder I don't know any Hillary supporters. 82%
In some places, people know it's spring by the calendar. In other places, the sun warms up, the snow goes away, flowers and animals show up. People plant things in their yards.
In my current location, the official signs of spring include the longer days and warmer temperatures. But it's never really official until the motorcycles come out. The winter beaters get parked on the lawn, and the nice sports cars start appearing on the roads. People put away the fat tire bikes and take out their road bikes. The roads start to close for dubious "construction" projects, which often appear to include closing roads during rush hour to take lunch.
And in 3-4 weeks, it will be summer. It will get warmer. Construction projects will ramp up. All of the unlicensed vehicles will disappear off the road. The roads heading out of town will be packed every Friday at 3 p.m. with shiny trucks towing boats and SUVs carrying children. RVs will drive slowly and everyone will complain. There will be several fatal collisions and people will wonder why. Salmon will once again fill freezers and have to pretend to care about the minutia of fishing in the hopes that someone will give me some free fish.
The local online newspaper which may or may not still be available in print will publish a series of letters arguing about bikes (not motorcycles) on the road. Comments will be heated and I will lose faith in people for the millionth time.
Then it will fall and we will be excited for snow.
But for now, I can't wait to be done with the ice and (lack of) snow. Spring means biking. Spring means happy people. Spring means summer is coming and with that all of the outdoor fun of summer. Lounging in the yard reading books and drinking beer. Long bike rides with the sun beating down. Wearing shorts and tank tops while running outside! People who care about their vehicles and drive a tiny bit better!
It's very grey outside, which is doing nothing for my mood. And it's Tuesday and I already skipped my morning workout. I'm fine with the skipping, I needed the sleep more than the swim. But I'm not loving the lack of energy.
I know that on my lunch I will probably go to the gym and stretch and do something light and easy while watching TLC, which sounds like a pretty good time. After work, I'll go to the same indoor track I've been going every other day since January. I'll walk in the same door, see the same people sitting the same places. I'll do the run and socialize which will be fun. Then I will leave and go home, so I can go to bed. So I can get up in the morning and come back to work and do the same projects that I've been working on since January, so I can afford my gym memberships, so I can do the same things after work...
I'm in a rut.
And that's why I stayed up late last night reading a terrible book about fairies, telepaths, vampires, and werewolfs.
Office Space has never felt so real.
I did buy new running shoes on my lunch, so that was something different.
I'm tired, I'm a little cranky, and I really just want to be in bed with a paperback and my cat. Instead I'm trying to figure out how to make something for someone who wants a list of contradictions. (Retro-Modern, not literal, but clearly show what we do, not that, it's overdone, make it integrate with x, y, z, and oh, yeah I'll pay you. Maybe. Let's just get something on paper first. No not that. What if you trying being inspired by person from the 1790s? Oh, like, really modern and clean)
I woke up this morning with the best of intentions. I was going to meet my friends and run our usual 10-20K, starting at a local trail, then go get some coffee. I would then go home and feel accomplished.
What actually happened was not at all my usual Saturday. Oh, it started off normal, of course. I got up with the alarm. I opened the front door to let the cat back in (who had just left an hour and half ago.) He followed me into the bathroom, where I then petted him and looked at my phone for 20 minutes. Realizing I was short on time, I decided to take a shower anyway. I did that. Then I went back to bed, thinking I could just run from my house.
In the time between opening the door for the cat and getting out of bed for the second time (2.5 hours, btw), it turned into a late season winter wonderland. I dressed, I put my key in my pocket, I put my gloves and hat on, started my watch, walked outside, started running, and at about 3/4 of a mile I said to myself "fuck this" and turned around. The snow was blowing in my face and I couldn't see. There were barely any cars on the road and no other runners. No bikers. No dog walkers. Just me and silence and snow. And what felt like 4 degree temperatures. This felt much colder, as we've had an incredibly mild winter so far. I've barely needed a coat.
The SO returned from his run and said it sucked. Yet somehow he managed to power through for over two hours, where as I made it all of 13 minutes. I thought about going to do some sort of indoor activity, but I had a bottle of a local brew that just needed to be consumed immediately. Also, I realized that I had no pants for any type of activity, as we haven't done laundry in a week.
For most two person households, a week without laundry shouldn't involve me sitting around my house in nothing but a teeshirt and some long underwear from 2008. However, with the training programs and the 2-3 workouts a day, 6 days a week, plus full time jobs, it adds up. Looks like 3-4 loads today. I have no more activewear that is clean. No socks. I do have: 12 pairs of jeans that don't fit, an ill fitting ugly dress from old navy with the tags still attached, lots of shorts and tank tops, and a lion costume from Halloween 2012. Let's hope it doesn't come down to me dressing as a sexy lion in March.
So I bit the bullet and started a load of laundry.
And I hate it. It's the worst chore. I don't sort. I put everything in and try to remember to take out things like bras, swimsuits, bike jerseys, bike shorts, bib shorts, and sweaters. Sometimes I forget and then I have to deal with a sweater that has holes in it. I lose socks. Whites are never bright white for too long (I find this to be sad.) Yet, I just don't have the time or patience to want to spend more time doing something so tedious and boring. The folding and putting away of the clean clothes is the most annoying part. When will someone invent a dryer that automatically folds and hangs clothing? Maybe a robot?