Christmas weekend included:
-sliding down icy hills until all that remained of our sleds were bits of plastic strewn across the snow
-watching old school star wars
-eating lots of delicious food a la mama
-sleep
-lovely gifts, including bamboo spoons and a new wool coat
-jammin' with Dan (in love with the Avett bros)
-warm fires, freezing outdoors
-monogramed sunggies (my gift to the fam)
-Thai birthday dinner and a new sewing machine (!!!!!)
-friends
-more sleeping
-more movies
-finishing the poisonwood bible
-family
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
It's the prettiest pot I ever did see...
I am referring to the Le Creuset dutch oven my boss gave me for Christmas. FREAK OUT PEOPLE! These pots are amazing! I hath coveted them for eons. And it's red. Come over, I'll make you dinner.
Marcy gave me my long distance phone code for the office. Which I had already forgotten at least three times. To help me remember, I converted the numbers into letters, so 2213 became BBAC. Then I sang it to the tune of Beethoven's 5th symphony. Then I realized that BBAC looks like a rhyme scheme for a poem. So I made a new form of poetry. It's called a Christa. Here are the rules:
In addition to the rhyme scheme laid out above, the first and second and fourth lines have 7 syllables (like my first name) and the third line has 5 syllables (like my last name). The subject generally pertains to unexpected death caused by unusual circumstances.
Here are a few examples:
Snow
Everywhere I look is snow
I don't know which way to go
I think I am lost
I suspect wolves will eat me
This poem slightly bends the rules of a Christa because the death is not quite unexpected. Here is another, more classic example of a Christa:
Girl
She wears long and flowing sleeves
The wind grabs them as she leaves
She flies up so high
and plummets to the ground, Smoosh!
Now you try. Everyone can write a Christa.
Marcy gave me my long distance phone code for the office. Which I had already forgotten at least three times. To help me remember, I converted the numbers into letters, so 2213 became BBAC. Then I sang it to the tune of Beethoven's 5th symphony. Then I realized that BBAC looks like a rhyme scheme for a poem. So I made a new form of poetry. It's called a Christa. Here are the rules:
In addition to the rhyme scheme laid out above, the first and second and fourth lines have 7 syllables (like my first name) and the third line has 5 syllables (like my last name). The subject generally pertains to unexpected death caused by unusual circumstances.
Here are a few examples:
Snow
Everywhere I look is snow
I don't know which way to go
I think I am lost
I suspect wolves will eat me
This poem slightly bends the rules of a Christa because the death is not quite unexpected. Here is another, more classic example of a Christa:
Girl
She wears long and flowing sleeves
The wind grabs them as she leaves
She flies up so high
and plummets to the ground, Smoosh!
Now you try. Everyone can write a Christa.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
I am stuck in this city and I belong in a field...
Um, okay so my advent calender failed miserably. I tried, right?
This weekend I:
Slipped on ice while talking on my cell phone and fell to the ground.
Was coerced by Persian Kiosk Lady to buy something expensive and ridiculous that I will never use (Her words: "You tell someone about the deal I give you, I kill you, I kill you!" How do you not buy her product when she is threatening your life?).
Made tons of healthy cookies, none of which taste any good, for my co-workers.
Found something I hadn't realized I had lost.
Played with little kitty Mia.
Had breakfast with Annie and Rachel in Boulder.
Watched BBC's new Sense and Sensibility mini-series, entertaining as ever.
Made up a limerick about my lunch experience in a restaurant:
I was eating soup from my bowl
When suddenly, I lost control
Away the soup flew
And my water glass too
I have the grace of a Troll
Counting down the hours until my next weekend!
This weekend I:
Slipped on ice while talking on my cell phone and fell to the ground.
Was coerced by Persian Kiosk Lady to buy something expensive and ridiculous that I will never use (Her words: "You tell someone about the deal I give you, I kill you, I kill you!" How do you not buy her product when she is threatening your life?).
Made tons of healthy cookies, none of which taste any good, for my co-workers.
Found something I hadn't realized I had lost.
Played with little kitty Mia.
Had breakfast with Annie and Rachel in Boulder.
Watched BBC's new Sense and Sensibility mini-series, entertaining as ever.
Made up a limerick about my lunch experience in a restaurant:
I was eating soup from my bowl
When suddenly, I lost control
Away the soup flew
And my water glass too
I have the grace of a Troll
Counting down the hours until my next weekend!
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Sometimes when I imagined snow growing up, I had images like this in my head:
All romantic and lovely and beautiful...and warm (fake stage snow is not cold, no matter how realistic it looks).
These pictures are a more accurate depiction of my current snow sentiment.
Imagined monologue with mother earth:
Hey, Ma! Can I call you Ma? No, oh sorry, no disrespect meant at all, I have just always felt like we were so close. Oh, you saw that, huh? Well, I meant to recycle that can. I just get really grossed out by old food and the spaghetti sauce smelled weird and I just threw it out. That hurt you? Like, physically? I'm sorry. I really am, I will do better. Bike to work? No, I don't. But, that's actually what I wanted to talk about. I would love to bike to work, its just, like, negative 10 outside. Oh, wow, you know all the exact temperatures. Okay, so I exaggerated a little. How cold is it? Zero. Right. So, about that. I really, really would love to bike to work but when its that cold, I just don't think its possible. I would lose fingers. It feels like you are losing fingers when I don't recycle my cans? I guess you have a point there. But, couldn't we compromise a little? I feel like I could bike to work if it were, say 40 degrees out and sunny. What can I give in exchange? That's how you operate, huh? I kind of imagined you a little more benevolent. No, no I am definitely not saying that I think you are rude, I just figured you would be a little more understanding of my predicament, I mean its pretty harsh out there. No, no, no you are most certainly not, uh, harsh. You are lovely. I really admire those twirly things in your hair. Vines, huh? Interesting. No, really, interesting in a good way. Crap. You aren't going to warm it up are you? Yeah, I thought so. Count the next blizzard as a special gift to me personally? Thanks, thanks a lot.
All romantic and lovely and beautiful...and warm (fake stage snow is not cold, no matter how realistic it looks).
These pictures are a more accurate depiction of my current snow sentiment.
Imagined monologue with mother earth:
Hey, Ma! Can I call you Ma? No, oh sorry, no disrespect meant at all, I have just always felt like we were so close. Oh, you saw that, huh? Well, I meant to recycle that can. I just get really grossed out by old food and the spaghetti sauce smelled weird and I just threw it out. That hurt you? Like, physically? I'm sorry. I really am, I will do better. Bike to work? No, I don't. But, that's actually what I wanted to talk about. I would love to bike to work, its just, like, negative 10 outside. Oh, wow, you know all the exact temperatures. Okay, so I exaggerated a little. How cold is it? Zero. Right. So, about that. I really, really would love to bike to work but when its that cold, I just don't think its possible. I would lose fingers. It feels like you are losing fingers when I don't recycle my cans? I guess you have a point there. But, couldn't we compromise a little? I feel like I could bike to work if it were, say 40 degrees out and sunny. What can I give in exchange? That's how you operate, huh? I kind of imagined you a little more benevolent. No, no I am definitely not saying that I think you are rude, I just figured you would be a little more understanding of my predicament, I mean its pretty harsh out there. No, no, no you are most certainly not, uh, harsh. You are lovely. I really admire those twirly things in your hair. Vines, huh? Interesting. No, really, interesting in a good way. Crap. You aren't going to warm it up are you? Yeah, I thought so. Count the next blizzard as a special gift to me personally? Thanks, thanks a lot.
Monday, December 07, 2009
12/7/09 Snowflakes
Last Friday night I watched "Big Country" - my favorite western - and cut out tons of snowflakes. I taped them up all over the ceiling and it is beautiful!
Sunday, December 06, 2009
Christa's Holiday Advent Calendar
Okay, so I am shamelessly stealing this idea but what fun! The theme for this advent calendar, you ask? Stuff in my apartment. I will use my last post for my first picture despite the fact I, unfortunately, do not have a roller coaster in my apartment. Thankfully black and white photography lends a facade of chic, though, lets be honest, who really cares about any of this anyway. Ah, but how it amuses! Me, it amuses me.
Forgive me, I can never make the photos and captions line up properly. Maybe they do on your computer, but if not, just imagine you are watching Singing in the Rain- no,no,no! yes, yes, yes! no,no,no! yes, yes, yes!
12/2/09 I don't know these people, but their picture is on my wall.
12/3/09 Teapot and owl.
12/4/09 My favorite cowboy statue, from grandma.
12/5/09 My handcrafted bird mobile which is still suffering from the move.
12/6/09 It is 11 degrees outside but so warm inside.
Forgive me, I can never make the photos and captions line up properly. Maybe they do on your computer, but if not, just imagine you are watching Singing in the Rain- no,no,no! yes, yes, yes! no,no,no! yes, yes, yes!
12/2/09 I don't know these people, but their picture is on my wall.
12/3/09 Teapot and owl.
12/4/09 My favorite cowboy statue, from grandma.
12/5/09 My handcrafted bird mobile which is still suffering from the move.
12/6/09 It is 11 degrees outside but so warm inside.
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
I am in Charlotte, waiting for phone calls that beckon me to see friends. I had a stupendous flight over here, due to the fact I forgot my driver's license AND my phone. Sometimes even I run out of patience with myself. Thankfully, my roommate overnighted my license so the trip home should be a bit less eventful, though I know I shall face the wrath of my employer for spending time with family. Oops. Even now I am tempted to bust out my work and shift through it but that is really so very depressing. What is my life? is the common question that rises to the surface of my tumultuous thoughts.
Also strange, I had a weird allergic reaction where my eyes became very itchy and swollen. Awkward and so very charming. Another bit of evidence that I deserve my own sitcom because life never fails to surprise and entertain me.
Thanksgiving was lovely, lots of food and family and a new game of pumpkin football. The family game of football proved that we are all cheaters, shamelessly stealing the ball and creating our own rules. I am still amused about my attempt to hide the football in the mailbox while the other team was in a huddle. My crew lost two to one, but that was only after Aunt Theresa defected to go make the green bean casserole, leaving us a player short. We were in the lead until then. We also went to the Charlotte parade, which left me strangely enchanted with marching bands, which, I was told, was mainly due to the fact I have never been in one. I guess I really just like people moving in unison, I feel the same way about musicals and troops on the drill field.
I leave for Denver tomorrow, still lacking in sleep.
Also strange, I had a weird allergic reaction where my eyes became very itchy and swollen. Awkward and so very charming. Another bit of evidence that I deserve my own sitcom because life never fails to surprise and entertain me.
Thanksgiving was lovely, lots of food and family and a new game of pumpkin football. The family game of football proved that we are all cheaters, shamelessly stealing the ball and creating our own rules. I am still amused about my attempt to hide the football in the mailbox while the other team was in a huddle. My crew lost two to one, but that was only after Aunt Theresa defected to go make the green bean casserole, leaving us a player short. We were in the lead until then. We also went to the Charlotte parade, which left me strangely enchanted with marching bands, which, I was told, was mainly due to the fact I have never been in one. I guess I really just like people moving in unison, I feel the same way about musicals and troops on the drill field.
I leave for Denver tomorrow, still lacking in sleep.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Hello. I have tried to write but all too often I delete what I have said.
A funny thing happens just when you think you couldn't possible get any busier- you get busier and look back at your former life and wonder what you did with all that free time.
I have to wake up in approximately three hours and I can't sleep. I am tempted to just go to the gym or something, just to use this time productively.
I feel like there is a secret demerit system at work - you are constantly losing points arbitrarily based on the Boss's mood. It kind of stinks.
To lighten the mood at work, which has become increasingly depressed, I have instituted a few new Christa Specials. There is the "Dance Move Of The Day," which I am always willing to demonstrate. I also provide "Guess What Song Is In My Head Now" or "Tuneless Humming While I Concentrate On Some Inane Task," not to mention "Fake Fainting." "Fake Fainting" is my favorite way to pass time but it does require some skill and awareness. You cannot just fling your body onto the ground willy-nilly. You have to make sure there are no sharp corners or innocent bystanders to fall on. Its also prudent to fake faint in front of people who won't try to catch you because, really, it just destroys the effect. Unless the catcher is particularly attractive, but then we are talking about a completely different type of game.
You know how when you are around folks all the time, you begin to pick up their lingo? Well, I have picked up "oh dear" from Andrea while she picked up "my head is going to explode" from me. Charming, ain't I?
I have finished my nutrition certification. My last book was called "Your Health, Your Choice" and I have uncovered a conspiracy. There are a suspicious number of typos in this book and they have enough consistency that I immediately suspected a secret code. The typos are as follows:
exe4rcise, qualiti8es, w3ell, buf7fer, demoli1sh, d9airy, saliv1a, adaptations2, functio5n, bac3teria
I took the numbers and correlated them to the appropriate letters of the alphabet and got:
D H C G A I A B E C
which clearly means:
Don't Hate Chocolate Ganache - Avoid Irritating Acupuncturists - Be Extraordinary Christa
I should be a detective or a spy. Obviously I have a talent for decoding.
(I want everyone to know I deliberated over my commas and I am sorry if they are incorrect, cause in the end, I just don't care)
A funny thing happens just when you think you couldn't possible get any busier- you get busier and look back at your former life and wonder what you did with all that free time.
I have to wake up in approximately three hours and I can't sleep. I am tempted to just go to the gym or something, just to use this time productively.
I feel like there is a secret demerit system at work - you are constantly losing points arbitrarily based on the Boss's mood. It kind of stinks.
To lighten the mood at work, which has become increasingly depressed, I have instituted a few new Christa Specials. There is the "Dance Move Of The Day," which I am always willing to demonstrate. I also provide "Guess What Song Is In My Head Now" or "Tuneless Humming While I Concentrate On Some Inane Task," not to mention "Fake Fainting." "Fake Fainting" is my favorite way to pass time but it does require some skill and awareness. You cannot just fling your body onto the ground willy-nilly. You have to make sure there are no sharp corners or innocent bystanders to fall on. Its also prudent to fake faint in front of people who won't try to catch you because, really, it just destroys the effect. Unless the catcher is particularly attractive, but then we are talking about a completely different type of game.
You know how when you are around folks all the time, you begin to pick up their lingo? Well, I have picked up "oh dear" from Andrea while she picked up "my head is going to explode" from me. Charming, ain't I?
I have finished my nutrition certification. My last book was called "Your Health, Your Choice" and I have uncovered a conspiracy. There are a suspicious number of typos in this book and they have enough consistency that I immediately suspected a secret code. The typos are as follows:
exe4rcise, qualiti8es, w3ell, buf7fer, demoli1sh, d9airy, saliv1a, adaptations2, functio5n, bac3teria
I took the numbers and correlated them to the appropriate letters of the alphabet and got:
D H C G A I A B E C
which clearly means:
Don't Hate Chocolate Ganache - Avoid Irritating Acupuncturists - Be Extraordinary Christa
I should be a detective or a spy. Obviously I have a talent for decoding.
(I want everyone to know I deliberated over my commas and I am sorry if they are incorrect, cause in the end, I just don't care)
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Howdy, Stranger.
There comes a certain carefree willingness to accept any invitation, a willingness
that may easily be confused with self-confidence and extroversion, when one has been alone for too long. That desperation tinged "I'll Come!" and the sweet relief as I leave my apartment to mingle with fellow humans (especially given the "Cat Lady" description is still a little too close for comfort as I spend an inordinate amount of time watching BBC mini-series, knitting, and stroking my roommates two gray cats (she is often gone hanging out with her boyfriend, like a normal twenty-something)) is not unfamiliar. I am definitely comfortable and unashamed of spending time by myself, no longer creeping into the movie theater on a Saturday night pretending I am meeting someone inside. No, I hold my head up high, look the pimply teen locked in the movie theater box office in the eye and boldly say, "One ticket, please." But, still, there is something nice when I really am meeting someone, not just my imaginary friends.
But this fear-based boldness ( aka 'if I don't leave my apartment I really will die here') can open new doors. I have recently amplified my quest for community and, last night, was calling a life group leader of the church I have been attending, to ask if the said group was actually meeting. Alas, said the kindly voice on the other end of the line, the group was not yet formed and may not start meeting til the new year. 'Ah, okay,' I reply, trying not to let my disappointment leak through. I hang up and am about to press play to restart 'The History of Tom Jones' when Eliza (the group leader, who has an inexplicably cool name) calls back. 'Hey, we are having some friends over for dinner, why don't you come?' she begins and before she can say 'green-chili enchiladas' I am on the road. What followed was a friendly, if slightly awkward, evening of enchiladas, cake, and Scattegories. I don't know if they will ever realize how much that simple act of kindness meant to me.
My brothers and I have made a pact to run a half marathon together in March. I am so excited. The pavement of VA has no idea what destruction we will leave in our wake, the Three Oakes, runners extraordinaire. I wonder if my brother's will object to matching capes?
Also, it snowed lots this week and some apartment photos. Behold, the-greatest-bargan-couch-ever!
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Snow Ninja Stance!
that may easily be confused with self-confidence and extroversion, when one has been alone for too long. That desperation tinged "I'll Come!" and the sweet relief as I leave my apartment to mingle with fellow humans (especially given the "Cat Lady" description is still a little too close for comfort as I spend an inordinate amount of time watching BBC mini-series, knitting, and stroking my roommates two gray cats (she is often gone hanging out with her boyfriend, like a normal twenty-something)) is not unfamiliar. I am definitely comfortable and unashamed of spending time by myself, no longer creeping into the movie theater on a Saturday night pretending I am meeting someone inside. No, I hold my head up high, look the pimply teen locked in the movie theater box office in the eye and boldly say, "One ticket, please." But, still, there is something nice when I really am meeting someone, not just my imaginary friends.
But this fear-based boldness ( aka 'if I don't leave my apartment I really will die here') can open new doors. I have recently amplified my quest for community and, last night, was calling a life group leader of the church I have been attending, to ask if the said group was actually meeting. Alas, said the kindly voice on the other end of the line, the group was not yet formed and may not start meeting til the new year. 'Ah, okay,' I reply, trying not to let my disappointment leak through. I hang up and am about to press play to restart 'The History of Tom Jones' when Eliza (the group leader, who has an inexplicably cool name) calls back. 'Hey, we are having some friends over for dinner, why don't you come?' she begins and before she can say 'green-chili enchiladas' I am on the road. What followed was a friendly, if slightly awkward, evening of enchiladas, cake, and Scattegories. I don't know if they will ever realize how much that simple act of kindness meant to me.
My brothers and I have made a pact to run a half marathon together in March. I am so excited. The pavement of VA has no idea what destruction we will leave in our wake, the Three Oakes, runners extraordinaire. I wonder if my brother's will object to matching capes?
Also, it snowed lots this week and some apartment photos. Behold, the-greatest-bargan-couch-ever!
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Snow Ninja Stance!
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Okay- when we say there is lots of snow, believe me that we are talking in feet now. My car has a snow afro and as I drove through starbucks for an indulgent everyone-else-is-home-but-my-office-doesn't-close mocha, the drive-through guy made a snowball from the excess snow I am carting around on my roof. You know, I am saving it for later. Hopefully we will close early and I will go make a snow dragon somewhere. For now, it is quiet in the clinic and I get to play catch up and drink lots of tea. And Shu is making us delicious soup! Huzzah for snow days!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
My message from the Universe for today:
Now let me get this straight, Christa: You want things that you don't yet have, people in your life who you don't yet know, and events to take place that haven't yet occurred, so that once these "things" come to pass you'll feel happy, confident, and fulfilled; accomplished, desired, and appreciated; treasured, adored, and like one bad mamma jama, a beautiful sight to see?
But... wasn't that your rationale for all the other stuff you wanted, that you now have?
Whooohoooooooo!
The Universe
It is a snowy blizzard out! Snow everywhere!
Now let me get this straight, Christa: You want things that you don't yet have, people in your life who you don't yet know, and events to take place that haven't yet occurred, so that once these "things" come to pass you'll feel happy, confident, and fulfilled; accomplished, desired, and appreciated; treasured, adored, and like one bad mamma jama, a beautiful sight to see?
But... wasn't that your rationale for all the other stuff you wanted, that you now have?
Whooohoooooooo!
The Universe
It is a snowy blizzard out! Snow everywhere!
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Me and Baby Amos Gray...what a sweetie!
I forgot to mention (this is classic) that I totally filled my apartment with smoke during the tea party. My spinach tart overflowed from the spring form pan and next thing you know I am smiling and fanning smoke out the windows with a cookie sheet, assuring my guests that there is no need for alarm. Sigh...I am part domestic goddess and part fire hazard.
I just made a foil ball for Andrea's kitty, the best cat toy ever. Liver (the cat, derivative from Olivia and an adequate description of her grumpy disposition...and what she likes to eat.) Hopefully the toy will keep her from attacking me.
Yesterday, while runnning lovely Saturday morning errands to get bittersweet chocolate and extra tea pots for my "Hey-I-have-an-awesome-new-pad" Tea Party, I stumbled across a garage sale with the most terrific stash of goodies. Andrea and I had finally cleared away the boxes and were left with a quite large living room with nothing in it. The original plan was to bring a couch down from the mountain house but loe and behold, it is the size of a tanker and weighs more than a team of sumo wrestlers. (okay, really, it is about 70 inches long, a common length for a love seat. And I don't think sumo wrestlers have teams. Whatever.) Since Mom and I had already collapsed in my apartment stairwell several times, in a fit of giggles and hysteria, while trying drag some piece of furniture or another up to the place, I decided to oly move furniture I could carry up by myself. But...Saturaday morning I found this amazing white couch for 20 bucks- I stuffed most of it my car (driving down the road with my trunk open), my mom got the rest and we hauled it upstairs and rearranged the living room. Okay, but why am I most likely boring you with this story about my decorating exploits? Because the couch is amazing and I got it for 20 bucks! Come over, really, you can sit on it, it doesn't even smell or anything. But the real point is the the apartment now looks like a home.
Its going to snow again. I am sipping tea, reading cookbooks, and lying on the floor. Soon I will go to Jessa's and make aprons and hopefully watch friends.
The end.
Yesterday, while runnning lovely Saturday morning errands to get bittersweet chocolate and extra tea pots for my "Hey-I-have-an-awesome-new-pad" Tea Party, I stumbled across a garage sale with the most terrific stash of goodies. Andrea and I had finally cleared away the boxes and were left with a quite large living room with nothing in it. The original plan was to bring a couch down from the mountain house but loe and behold, it is the size of a tanker and weighs more than a team of sumo wrestlers. (okay, really, it is about 70 inches long, a common length for a love seat. And I don't think sumo wrestlers have teams. Whatever.) Since Mom and I had already collapsed in my apartment stairwell several times, in a fit of giggles and hysteria, while trying drag some piece of furniture or another up to the place, I decided to oly move furniture I could carry up by myself. But...Saturaday morning I found this amazing white couch for 20 bucks- I stuffed most of it my car (driving down the road with my trunk open), my mom got the rest and we hauled it upstairs and rearranged the living room. Okay, but why am I most likely boring you with this story about my decorating exploits? Because the couch is amazing and I got it for 20 bucks! Come over, really, you can sit on it, it doesn't even smell or anything. But the real point is the the apartment now looks like a home.
Its going to snow again. I am sipping tea, reading cookbooks, and lying on the floor. Soon I will go to Jessa's and make aprons and hopefully watch friends.
The end.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
I was driving up to the mountain house this evening and there was an accident on the road and tons of cops. But when I passed, all I saw was a motorcycle on the road. Not a good sign.
A bear broke into my grandmother's truck and ransacked it. One of the boxes with giant bear claws in it is sitting in our living room.
I have retreated to the mountain house for an evening of the familiar. I needed something not new for a while.
I ran my half-marathon today and it was amazing. Painful (the last four miles especially) but amazing. Runners in spandex leaked out from the city, converging on one spot, having paid a large sum of money to wake up before dawn and run with thousands of other people. I liked that I didn't have to think about anything, how many miles I had gone or how many I had left to go, where to get water or anything, except running. My first 6 miles were easy but things were getting tired by 8. But I finished! I can't walk now, but I finished. My time was good too (for me), 2 hours and 39 minutes. I think I would've made 2 hrs, 30 mins if I hadn't taken that bathroom break on mile 7. :-D It was fun. The rest of my day I have spent napping, reading young adult fiction, watching teen movies, and sitting. I like sitting.
A bear broke into my grandmother's truck and ransacked it. One of the boxes with giant bear claws in it is sitting in our living room.
I have retreated to the mountain house for an evening of the familiar. I needed something not new for a while.
I ran my half-marathon today and it was amazing. Painful (the last four miles especially) but amazing. Runners in spandex leaked out from the city, converging on one spot, having paid a large sum of money to wake up before dawn and run with thousands of other people. I liked that I didn't have to think about anything, how many miles I had gone or how many I had left to go, where to get water or anything, except running. My first 6 miles were easy but things were getting tired by 8. But I finished! I can't walk now, but I finished. My time was good too (for me), 2 hours and 39 minutes. I think I would've made 2 hrs, 30 mins if I hadn't taken that bathroom break on mile 7. :-D It was fun. The rest of my day I have spent napping, reading young adult fiction, watching teen movies, and sitting. I like sitting.
Friday, October 16, 2009
I slammed my finger in the door of moon.
This is Christa reporting live from her new location, 1116 W Lilley Ave Apt. 307 Litttleton, CO 80120. Never fear, she is just as Brave and Boisterous, Curious and Creative, Lovely and Loquacious as she was in her previous high altitude location.
This has been the most exhausting three weeks of my life, without a doubt. When I have time to slow down I drop into a sleepy coma until I am forced to revive and face the world again. Last night, bed time = 8:30 pm. That, my friends, is a beautiful thing.
My half marathon is this weekend and my training (after glorious consistency) has faded away into the occasional three mile run over the past two weeks. I will run it regardless, but anticipate a rather painful morning.
I am at work, getting secret satisfaction by blogging when I am at work. But it is 7:30 in the morning on my day off. And I am at work. Thus I blog.
Oh, second night in my apartment, I almost burn it down. It's a familiar story for me. I went to bed with a sweet potato still in the oven. Oops. I have baptised my new place with the sickly sweet smoke of charred sweet potato. Thankfully there wasn't too much smoke that I couldn't dissipate with the rapid waving of my arms. Also, none of my neighbors were disturbed by the smoke alarm, since I had taken out the battery the night before because it was beeping so annoyingly.
Letter to my new roommate:
Dear Roommate,
I am a brilliant and intelligent woman. However, sometimes I may:
leave my keys in the door for indefinite periods of time
leave the windows open when its snowing
forget to turn off the stove
leave food in the hot oven overnight
drop large, clattering objects in the early hours of the morning
inadvertently flood the bathroom
warble loudly
keep the donkey statue my grandma gave me and insist it sits on our kitchen table
make teapot cozies with bunny ears
Please do not hold these things against me. It's genetic.
Love,
Christa
This has been the most exhausting three weeks of my life, without a doubt. When I have time to slow down I drop into a sleepy coma until I am forced to revive and face the world again. Last night, bed time = 8:30 pm. That, my friends, is a beautiful thing.
My half marathon is this weekend and my training (after glorious consistency) has faded away into the occasional three mile run over the past two weeks. I will run it regardless, but anticipate a rather painful morning.
I am at work, getting secret satisfaction by blogging when I am at work. But it is 7:30 in the morning on my day off. And I am at work. Thus I blog.
Oh, second night in my apartment, I almost burn it down. It's a familiar story for me. I went to bed with a sweet potato still in the oven. Oops. I have baptised my new place with the sickly sweet smoke of charred sweet potato. Thankfully there wasn't too much smoke that I couldn't dissipate with the rapid waving of my arms. Also, none of my neighbors were disturbed by the smoke alarm, since I had taken out the battery the night before because it was beeping so annoyingly.
Letter to my new roommate:
Dear Roommate,
I am a brilliant and intelligent woman. However, sometimes I may:
leave my keys in the door for indefinite periods of time
leave the windows open when its snowing
forget to turn off the stove
leave food in the hot oven overnight
drop large, clattering objects in the early hours of the morning
inadvertently flood the bathroom
warble loudly
keep the donkey statue my grandma gave me and insist it sits on our kitchen table
make teapot cozies with bunny ears
Please do not hold these things against me. It's genetic.
Love,
Christa
Monday, October 05, 2009
Okay, But Really...
isn't he just the cutest baby ever? My brother and sister have the most beautiful children!
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