13. One of the benefits of working with kids is picking up all the clever vernacular. This week I learned:
maddogging (v). The act of posturing another individual, or staring at them in a threatening manner, thereby provoking a fight.
12. Wednesday morning I was awakened by coyotes doing what many locals euphemistically refer to as "singing". I call it "a crap-load of a huge racket". It's pretty distinctive. Sadie put out a couple of feeble "woofs" and then shut up. I've noticed that is the norm around here. When coyotes sound off, all the neighborhood dogs suddenly get a big case of STFU. It's like their parents said when they were pups, don't you be maddogging those coyotes. They may be small but they'll kick your ass. So be quiet.
In any case, I'm pretty sure this is when Sadie quietly snuck into the back of the house out of nervousness.
11. So, Wednesday morning after my run I sat down and took Sadie's furry face in my hands.
Sadie, look at me. No, at me. Loo-LOOK AT ME. There. Now, you need to know there is a clear division of labor in this house. The cats live in the back; you live in the front. The cats are responsible for making warm lumps on the bed at night that we have to bend our legs around to sleep, and eating cat food. You are responsible for acting insanely happy when we show up and giving us soulful looks.
Do you understand what I am saying? You are not to eat the cat food or sneak into the back of the house at night.
Are we clear on this?
10. I was so stressed out and angry at my university that I taught them a lesson: I got my hair done. That'll show them.
9. This is my new blog tool.
In case you're wondering, yes, you have probably gotten Mary Kay holiday makeup collections that were bigger. But it's purple, and that's all that matters.
I took this picture in Oklahoma, where everything is Sienna.
8. This fall Mom in law is coming in November.
Dad in law is coming in December. You know what that means, don't you?
wait for it....
wait for it...
I have to clean house.
7. Next week I start tapering. 40 miles. The following week, 30 miles. Then 20 miles. And so on. The hardest part, I think, will be adjusting my eating so that I don't gain a million pounds during this time.
6. I'm blonde again. Not blond. Blonde. With an e. It's classier.
5. I started taking my clothes to a local tailor to have them taken in. The lady was pinning me, and didn't speak very good English, but she said, "How you get so small?"
I run, I said. And I was eating less.
"how many runs you do?"
She might be asking, literally, how many, but I bet it's how much.
So I told her.
"I run. 80 to 100 kilometers in a week," I said.
Then she patted her stomach. "Maybe I just hang onto this."
It's all about choices. You go, girl.
4. Next week the Bitches of Fashion are taking me shopping. In case you don't know who that is, their blog is here. I saved up my coffee money, and they are taking me out and picking things out for me.
I'm a bit nervous. I'm not really a fashionista. I trend more towards classic stuff that doesn't really stand out much. I work with people who are mentally ill, after all. They don't need too many distractions. It's easier to get dressed in the morning when your stuff is not at all trendy, because it never looks out of date.
3. On our trip to Oklahoma I was privileged to be able to see the Leaning tower of Brittany, Texas
and the largest cross in the united states. Maybe the world.
I wanted to get a picture of myself standing in front of it, looking pious, but
that involved getting out of the car, and we were pretty desperate to get
back to Albuquerque and 18% humidity.
For scale, that is a warehouse to the right, and it's several hundred yards in front of the cross.
2. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday I was supposed to put in 22 miles. By Wednesday night, I'd gotten in 11. Then I got my hair done. That left another 11 to get in today. Not sure how I'm going to pull that off, but I'll try.
1. Last night, the wind howled all night, and kept me up. I slept in. Graduate school is so stressful that when I got home from work tonight I wanted to curl up in a ball under the blankets. But I can't do that. I'm going to at least get dressed to go out to run, and take a headlamp with me. I'm crossing my fingers for a nice, long, worry run.
I terminated with my therapist last week. Maybe I should have waited.