It's Wednesday, and I smell like gas.

Dear Diary,

There are apparently a lot of bad karma nuggets floating around out there this morning and it all landed on me. I didn't hear it land on me. I imagine that if I had, it would have sounded wet and heavy. Like shit.

I left the house this morning at 7:20ish, plenty of time to get to work. I waved at my neighbor who was outside watering her lawn.  I knew I had to get gas. It was impossibly cold and windy, so I was already not looking forward to that. When the light turned green, I realized I'd left my wallet (and gas card) at home, so I hung a U and went back to get it. As I tend to scatter things around my home, it was not easy to find. But I did find it. 

Sweet Baboo, meanwhile, had alrady given me his gas card because he knows that quite often, things just disappear and he loves me enough to not allow me to stomp around the house swearing and accusing the dog and cats of hiding my stuff. 

As I left the house again, I turned the corner and waved for the second time to my neighbor who was still outside, watering. She waved back, puzzled look on her face. Then the cup of mountain dew/cranberry juice in my cup holder sloshed and spilled into my cup holders.  I rolled down the window to pour a bit out, but then I hit a bump and it all went out. Dammit. There goes my morning caffeine. I needed to hurry.  I had a client coming in first thing, so I could not linger. 

Okay.  I know that there is a Starbucks on the way to the gas station, with a drive-through.  I headed back down to the gas station. On the way there, I realized I'd forgotten my lunch - left the Lean Cuisine boxes sitting right on the counter. I debated weather or not to go get them, and decided that I would decide at the gas station. Meanwhile, I was already racking up some self-pity, so I took a coupon out to go to Starbucks, and got myself a caramel macchiato.

As I pulled away from the drive through I heard the loud and unmistakable sound of my car's body molding scraping the curb. Dammit. I used napkins from my glove box to soak up all the spilled mountain dew in my cup holder and threw them away in the trashcan that, thankfully, Starbucks always seems to have next to their drive-through.

At least I had my caffeine! I headed down to the gas station, and sat inside my car while the gas went into the tank, sipping my coffee. I head a loud click signalling that the nozzle had finished, but apparently this wasn't my gas pump that made that noise, because when I pulled out the nozzle, a lot of gas spewed out - not on me, thank goodness, but you know how the smell of gas is. It gets into your body and clothes and doesn't let go. I can still smell it now, an hour later, sitting at my desk.

SO. I left the gas station and, smelling strongly of gasoline, decided that I did indeed want my Lean Cuisine, and so drove home to get my lunch.  I drove home, car windows down to try to air myself out, heat blasting because it's so damned cold outside. I got home, grabbed my lunch, headed out, waved at my neighbor AGAIN who by now must think I'm completely insane.  I tried reminding myself of the good things, at least I have a gas card, at least I have lunch, at least I have a car, at least I have a job, and it's not that I've ever not had those things, mostly, but there were times in the past that my grasp on them was tenuous, at best.

I drove to work like a crazy woman, quickly and aggressively to get there early enough to get settled, and so as not to miss my first appointment.

Who did not show up.

...

Eventually, if you wade through enough of it, you stop noticing the smell. (Thursday 13, the early edition)

Dear Diary,

13.  I mentioned last week that I had been in school continuously for 20 years, and a couple people commented to me on it. Yes, it's true.  I am that pathetic.  But part of the cure is admitting you have a problem, and I do: I am addicted to finisher's prizes.  At least now they are less expensive and help get rid of stress instead of causing it.
Meanwhile,

I can feel myself wearing down, and just in time, too.  I'm actually doing better than last year, when I was worn down by February.  I'm tired, depressed, anxious, and having bad dreams that involve rejection and abandonment.  I am, finally, and predictably, getting Too Old For This Shit.

I know it's just the whole grad school thing. I know it, but I can't feel it.  I just want to lay on a couch all day and do nothing.  I don't want to go anywhere, run, or write a paper, or make a phone call, or clean, or arrange.  Just lay.  And maybe drink cool, icy things. Which may, or may not, have ETOH in them.

12.  Saturday, I was bitterly disappointed to find out that Sweet Baboo got an email saying he'd been selected in the lottery for the La Luz Trail Run, and I had not.

Then.  A friend messaged me later to tell me my name is on the list, here:   http://ultrasignup.com/entrants_event.aspx?did=12328

So, I will begin training for this May 25th.  I'll still have a 50K to do in June, but other than that, I'm winding down for about a year of shorter distances and speedwork.  I'll still be running 5 days a week, but for much shorter distances.  I'll probably be keeping a 50K training plan recycling throughout the 2011-2012 school year while I'm interning.  My goal: Sub 2 hour.  Which, if you recall the profile, is quite ambitious.

11.  Saturday I ran a local half marathon while Baboo ran a 10K.   I had to run 15 miles Saturday, per Coach Baboo, and this seemed like a good way to do most of that, so he signed me up.  We like to support local races whenever we can, for reasons I'll mention in a bit.

It was beautiful, cool and just a bit breezy, and other than the smell of horses, the run through Albuquerque's North Valley area was lovely.  We ran past vineyards and farms and over acequias, and YES ALBUQUERQUE HAS THOSE THINGS, RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TOWN AND THAT'S WHY I LOVE IT SO and underneath old, old cottonwood trees that arched high overhead, providing shade.

We finished at a local elementary school. It was one of those lovely local races where you get to see people doing their very first race of some distance, and their friends and families hold signs and cheer wildly for them.  I think everyone, no matter what distance they wind up doing, should support local races.  It's incredibly inspiring to see people doing their very first anything, whether it's a half marathon, 10K, or 5K.

10.  Sweet Baboo also did a race at the same time; he did the 10K.  It was on the same route except that halfway through they turned into another direction.  His race started 15 minutes after mine and so, predictably just before his mile 4, he blew by me at what seemed to be a dead sprint.

Trust me, it was startling to see him running that fast - he was running faster than others around him but was much larger (Remember, he's 195 lbs and 6' tall). He is qualifying for a military running team by running a 44-minute 10K.  I can't even imagine being that fast--I'm still trying to break an hour on my 10K time.

My time for the half-marathon was 2:16 and some seconds, by the way.  I was holding my own the first 7 miles, but then I started fading. Next time, I need more water.  And faster legs.

9. This past weekend I had my last big weekend.  The marathon Saturday was followed on Sunday by...nothing.  My legs hurt, especially the upper part of my quads.  So, I rounded out a 36-mile week.  Yes, it does still freak me out to see that written, even when I write it. I can still remember the first time I freaked out of a "5 mile slow jog".  It was supposed to be more, but I'm having trouble with energy.

8.  Last Friday a kid ran by my office, closely followed by people talking into radios.  They tend not to run, as there's not a whole lot of places where he can go, so they run in a loop.  When he ran by again they were further behind.  He stopped and threw a small rock at me, hitting me squarely in the right side of my $5 reading glasses.  Good thing I had them on.  I'm imagining his treatment review:

The client's strengths include good hand-eye coordination. 

Because, you know, it's all about focusing on strengths.   

7.  A woman asked me recently how I lost weight.  What could I say?  No, it wasn't easy.  No, I sometimes will think about chocolate cake. The woman, who is large for her height, said that she just couldn't see depriving herself.  Yes, it's true, I do deprive myself at times.  But I know the following is true:

• In life there are choices.  I made mine.
• There will always be chocolate cake.  I choose when and how to have a taste.  
• Chances are, the craving will pass.  It always does. 

6.  "Ever wish vegetables didn't taste so vegetal-y"?  Says the V8 splash commercial.  Uh, well, no.  I like it that vegetables taste vegetable-y, just like I like that potatoes taste potato-y, and chicken tastes chicken-y.  If I want something that tastes Fruit-y, I'll eat fruit.  Thanks.

5.  Last Thursday I woke up at 3 am.  No idea why, but I couldn't get back to sleep.  I lay there for an hour or so, and then went out in the dark and ran 4 miles.  During my run, several cars stopped at stop signs, and even though it was dark, they saw me.  Because they, you know, STOPPED.  at the STOP SIGN.
But not this guy.  No, the guy in the old geep grand cherokee blew the stop sign, and then slowed somewhat for just a second when he saw me.  Then he went ahead and turned in front of me.  I smacked his car with my open palm.  yes, he was so close that I could simply lift my hand and do that.  I didn't reach.  He blew his horn at me.  Baby.


Then, for some reason I cannot fathom, he drove up the street, turned around, and drove up alongside me to give me a lecture.  Now, I really wanted to say, you blew the stop sign.  Now go blow yourself.


But because of my new year's resolution, *I* am a calm person in charge of her faculties.  So I waved as I ran while he rolled alongside me, and I called out repeately, Have a nice day!  Have a nice day!  Finally he gave up and yelled "dumbass" and drove away.  Ooo. Ouch.

That was fun.  If all I have to do to piss people off is be nice to them when they are steaming mad, then there you go.  Win-win.

WHAT is up with people like that?  Seriously.  If you go to the trouble of turning your car around to follow someone on foot and tell them how they should behave, how sad is your life?  

4.    Thursday, I blew off my afternoon run.  I hadn't seen my doggie all week in the sunlight.  I was tired as hell.  I also wanted to make a special meal for my daughter to celebrate the fact that SHE GOT A JOB, YES, THAT'S RIGHT I got the internship.  I won't tell you what we ate.  It was a bit of hedonism.  Okay, I'll tell: it was a couple of bacon-wrapped fillets from the local commissary.

At one point, she looked at them and reported that her father (who I haven't been married to for two decades) told her that these were too small, and that he could eat several of them.  Well, of course he could.  Most of us could.  That's not the point.  Yeah, no shit.  But I have tried to teach my daughter two important rules in life, and one of them is: Just because you can eat all of it doesn't mean you need to do so.  Anyway. We had the tiny fillets, and I talked to her about eating it slowly and enjoying each bite, because when you do that, you don't need more food.  We also had steamed vegetables and baked sweet-potato fries.

3.  Oh, by the way, the other rule I've tried to teach her is: Just because you can get it on doesn't mean it fits. Words to live by.  They should be posted, like, EVERYWHERE.

2.  I met some kids this week that, frankly, reminded me of how awesome I have it.  That's it.  That's all you're getting.  HIPAA, you know.  Okay, so I'm a bleeding heart.  Bite me.  Seriously, what do you expect from someone in my line of work?  I don't know too many Social Workers that AREN'T bleeding hearts
But.  I'm a bleeding heart whose politics are based on evidence, not the "energy" I feel.  Not the "gut feeling".  Evidence.

1.  What I am about to tell you will make you hate me.  A while back SweetFace came for dinner and was playing with his new iPad. As he is my son, SweetFace is a serious tecchie gear whore.  I tell you, I was smitten.  I have absolutely no reason to buy one of these things; I mean, I've finished all my coursework DID YOU READ THAT, HAVE I MENTIONED THAT I'M FINISHED WITH ALL MY COURSEWORK, but I jokingly said to SweetFace, you should give your dear old mother this for mother's day.

"Why should I do that?"

Because they wouldn't give me any drugs and you were nearly 9 pounds.  

We laughed.

Then, a couple weeks later, Daughter joked with him about getting me one.  He pondered that for a while, and then said, "I think I will."

Why?

Well, it turns out that as a teenager back in '02, SweetFace wanted a particular motherboard of mine, so unbeknownst to me he swapped it out with another motherboard that had a lesser processor.  It was off a PC that I wasn't using at the time, and I don't remember it, so I must not have been aware of it. (Sign of a true nerd, by the way.  He didn't break into my room to steal money or prescription pills, no, he took a motherboard.)

It furthermore turns out that himself the SweetFace has a low threshold of guilt tolerance. As well, he wants a new 2G ipad and only by giving me his 3-month-old 1G iPad can he justify that.
I, of course, am torn.

• Do I be the "good mother" and say, "don't spend all that money on me?" or 
• Do I acknowledge that yes, he was a pain in the ass teenager and so I'm totally entitled to cool stuff, being as I raised him alone most of his life? or
• Do I simply allow him to assuage his guilt by accepting a very expensive (and very cool) trinket?  

The tie-breaker, of course, is that it's INCREDIBLY COOL AND I WANT ONE.  

So, in addition to the new Garmin 310XT that Baboo brought me, guess what else I'm getting for mother's day? :)  Yeah, I know.  You hate me.  Go have some kids of your own and instill work ethic and low guilt thresholds.  It will take about 20 years, but it's totally worth it.
...

[soon to be sent from my iPad. if there's an app for that.] 

.

And in this corner...graduate school.

Dear Diary,

13.  So this past weekend, I ran 17 miles (half what I was supposed to run), but also cleaned out my closet, got my car cleaned and detailed, and made serious headway on my assignments.  I took my daughter out to eat.  I taught her how to play Sudoku.  Sweet Baboo was gone, so I had to keep busy.

12.  Monday, I took a huge load of clothes - eleven items - to the dry cleaner, and then took another armload to Goodwill.  I did not run.

11.  Also, on Tuesday, one of my references for the Internship notified me that they'd been called.   Tuesday was also the day I got my butt up at 5 am and went for a short run.  I decided that I will not run unless I get it out of the way early.  When I say "get it out of the way" don't assume that it's a chore, it's not.  Running at dawn is my joy.  It's quiet.  I don't wait for cars.  I. Feel. Awesome, for the rest of the day.  I take off in dark, and it's just before sunrise over the mountains when I finish.

10.  Wednesday, the daughter project took an unexpected leap forward when she was called to an interview.   I did not run.


9.  I'm so over this semester.  It's like, whatever.  Grade me, don't grade me.  I don't give a shit. Last night, I did my last role play.  EVER.  This will be the last time that I sit with another student and do a therapy role-play scenario.  Buwahaha.  FOREVER.

8.  OMG, I just realized.  I'm running the first of my four marathons in less than 3 weeks.  I have not been able to keep up with my training.  This is going to hurt.


7.  Sweet Baboo, as I mentioned, was gone this week.  It used to be that when this happened I would stay up too late, fall asleep in front of the TV, drink too much wine, and do too much online shopping. Now I've substituted cleaning and arranging for all that.  But I'm still waiting for him to come back.

6.  I went over to a grocery store to celebrate the good stuff.  I picked out a bottle of wine, and some chow, some cake, and then attempted to buy. I realized I didn't have my wallet with me, so I grabbed a spare license that I keep in my car.
The kid who checked me out, who was barely above 21 himself, informed me that my license was expired.  (Yes, he carded me.)  And that he could not sell me wine.
Are you kidding me?  Fine.  I don't need your stupid wine.  In fact, I don't even need this food.  It was all an impulse, anyway.  (More on this later).
I do not, by the way, have any illusion that I look like I'm under 21.  I think he was being just a pain in the ass.
So, I went home and had some fish.  And ice water.  And I was just fine.

I would actually like to have
this on a bumper sticker.

5.   I'm not saying I don't occasionally eat a lot of crap.  I'm just making an observation.  So, when I'm at some thing at work where there is a potluck, and they say, "okay, everybody eat," I find myself stepping out the way so that I don't get trampled.  I find myself, too, standing next to the exact same people each time.  These are also people who are into fitness and working out, and we make small talk as we watch everyone jostle for space in line.  It's another odd club that I've become a member of: the club of people who have decided that work food, especially potluck food, tends not to be health food.  These are the same people with which I will split a bagel, or a donut, during meetings.  Do I want the whole donut, or three or four?  Hell yes I do. But I also remember how bad I look in stretch pants.

4.  One thing I've been working on this year, along with other impulse issues, is binging, believe it or not.  I used to have  problem with impulsive spending, but started working on that by telling myself, "there will always be enough...there will always be deals, I don't have to have this now."  Now I'm working on the same with food: there will always be enough to eat. There will always be things that taste good.  But as I observe others, it occurs to me that maybe there are others, besides me, who see good food and must have it now, now, now.  

They stand in line, and I immediately recognize what they are doing: looking anxiously back and forth between the number of people in front of them and that one dish that they want some of, gauging whether there will be any left when they get their turn.  I know, because I've done it.
C'mon.  You know that, along with m, you' had those ugly, ugly thoughts: you better take just a small helping of those sour cream chicken enchiladas, bitch, or I'll slash your tires.  


3.  All I have left for coursework for my MSW is the following: one family film assignment, where I watch a film (I chose "Parenthood") and then write a paper about how I would approach working with the family from a particular theoretical orientation; one clinical supervision plan, a paper outlining a proposal for a group for my Group Therapy class, a 30 minute presentation where I treat the class as a group therapy class and work them using some sort of intervention, and then the final exam for one class.  That's it. It sounds like a lot but I've already started on most of these and/or done a lot of thinking.  The next two weekends will be spent working on these so that by the time the marathons roll around, I am done and relaxed and getting lots of sleep.
Of course, there is absolutely no reason for anyone to give a shit about any of this. I'm mostly thinking on paper.

2. But I will also say this: I see and end. I can actually now see a place on my calendar, when I'm looking at a multiple week view, when all the entries for assignments, classes, etc., abruptly stop, and there's just space there . That's what I'm looking forward to: space.

I've been in school a ridiculous amount of time.  I started my Bachelor's degree in 1991 and after I finished, professors convinced me to get my masters, so I did. Then they convinced me to work on my PhD, so I moved to another university and started that. Then I decided that I didn't want that PhD and moved in wiht Baboo and started teaching.  THEN, I decided to start another PhD program. I didn't like that either, so I got another master's degree.  And then I decided to get another one after that.

Thankfully, the finish lines I'm pursuing now are cheaper and less stressful.  No more degrees for me, I'm done.  Since I've been in school continuously since 1991, I'm not sure what that's like.

Of course, only my coursework is done.  I have 9 months of internship to do.

Which brings be back to the internship at the VA that I applied for.

1.  I mentioned that I was applying for an internship at the VA.  This was a source of anxiety for me because well, stupidly, it was the only one I applied for, and it was highly competitive.  It is one of the few that provides a stipend, but that's not why I wanted it: I want to work for the VA some day.

I like working with people, all kinds of people, and I believe in the mission of the VA.  I spent 10 months there in 2008-2009 working for a contractor, and loved the campus here. The atmosphere is relaxed but professional, and the VA has a lot of different areas for a social worker to work in, and they are highly structured, which I love.  They provide good support for continuing education for their clinical staff.

They also use only researched, evidence-based methods of working with people, and that's a good fit for me, as Albuquerque has it's fair share of flaky counselors social workers who truly believe that rules, ethics, and theoretical orientation don't matter as long as you have good intentions. And, of course, a very big wad of icing on that cake is that it is a steady job, with good benefits.

An internship there gives me the chance to get my face in front of people, so that some day when there is an opening and I apply for it, somebody says, I remember her as an intern. She was reasonably competent, and didn't start any fires.  We should hire her. 

Oh, but did I mention?  They called me yesterday, and offered me the internship.

...

Scraps of fabric and thread and their meaning.

Dear Diary,

I'm sitting on my bed typing this because surprisingly, it is 30 degrees out.  I had decided I was going to suck it up and try to get in 30 miles today, because Sweet Baboo is at a medical conference in Washington, where there also happened to be a 50K.  He is doing it this morning and so, well, am I--but here at home.  I'm sure he'll be finished long before I will, given my penchent for taking time-outs, sitting in the shade at gas stations and sipping cold coca-cola.  Oh, and he's faster than I am.  Chances are, that wind and cold is going to do me long long before 30 miles is reached.

So. But.  Anyway.

Last night Dread Pirate came over and we "shopped" my closet.

For the uninformed, this consisted of DP going through my clothing murmering any and all of the following:
EW. Weekend only.
Oh my God, this looks terrible.  Why won't you dry clean?  
You have a lot of mock turtle necks.  Is there any reason for that?
I'm expecting to find--oh yes, here it is *shudders*: the Christmas sweater.
Your closet is full of Burqas.  You know that, right?  
This would look so hot on you!  Why is it stuffed in the back of your closet?
What is it with you and the spinster-school-marm look?

When you're big and middle-aged, or maybe just middle-aged, or maybe just big, you often adopt a "I'll cover it up and then I won't have to think about it" attitude towards your body.  The skirts go to the floor. The tops go to the knees.  You tell yourself, this skirt that drops straight to my feet is very slimming, and will hide the extra pounds.  

You convince yourself that the tunics will make you look just like the size 00 models who were wearing them in the catalogue, and that the item of clothing with the "secret slimming panel" actually does what it says, and this pattern is very slimming, (says the saleslady.  And why would she lie?)  Life becomes a quest for clothing that is slimming, and failing that, just covers it all the hell up.

Of course, I had my own defenses set up as Pirate handed items to the daughter to add to the ever-growing pile on the bed

• I can't rid of that.  I paid a lot of money for it.
• I can't throw that out - it was a gift.
• That was on sale.  It was a terrific deal.
• Hey, I like that piece.  (To which she would counter, when do you wear it? and I would have to say, it's too big.  i can't wear it.

Often, I would get incredulous looks from Pirate  when I said, "I can still wear that."

Do you have any idea what size you are now?

that 70s child.  I'm on the right.

I've never really thought about clothing all that much until the last decade.  Well, sorta.  As a child, I was a huge tomboy, and didn't really care much what I wore, as long as I didn't look like a dumb old girl.  It wouldn't have mattered anyway, because by the time I did care, I had a slightly miserly father who refused to buy clothing for me.  I was given perfunctory clothing for my birthday, and for Christmas, and there were back-to-school shopping trips to provide the necessary blue-jeans, shoes, and underwear.

I could have bought some of the "in" clothes with money from my jobs, but I was also required to provide my own gas, cigarettes (don't go there) and insurance, so there wasn't much left for clothes.  I just wasn't all that invested, to be truthful.  I adopted an I-don't-care-attitude  toward clothing.  When my children were little, like a lot of moms, I lived in sweat shirts and jeans.

When I finished graduate school, I started working on a professional wardrobe, but my weight bounced between a 12 and a size 16 continuously, so it was hard to maintain, and I fell also into the role of a schoolteacher, and wore long dresses with high necklines.  I graduated from high school a size M, usually between a 6 and an 8, and after my first pregnancy, I never saw those numbers again except for a brief few months in 2000 when I got down to a size 8 by hiking and starving myself.  I couldn't maintain it.  I bounced back up to my adult weight: size 12 to 16.

Last year in April I dropped to a size 8, and then this past February, a size 6, although that depends on my level of hydration and time of month.  I've comfortably maintained this for nearly a year. I don't feel starved.

My picture of my adult self is permanently stuck at size 12 or 14, so when I see clothes that size, I figure they will fit me.  I still do.  When I look in the mirror, my filter sees me at that 12-14 size, usually an L and sometimes an XL.  

Also, truthfully, I had to admit to myself that I'm afraid to get rid of the bigger clothes, because what if I get bigger again?  What would I wear?  So yes, for all these reasons, I often protested even as the clothing was going onto one of the growing piles on the bed.

I have to remind myself that there will always be clothes.  Also, clothing should be an adornment, not just a cover-up.  It should show who am I am, and how I feel about myself.  And right now, despite all my kvetching, I feel smart, fast, accomplished--my clothes should reflect that, right?  And slim.  I have to keep saying that to myself: I am slim. 

I do not need to cover it the hell up.  I don't dress quite as floridly as Dread Pirate; she is a walking party and celebration of fashion, and it reflects her personality.  My work requires that I be a bit more conservative, and perhaps because of a lot of life experiences, I just am.   I like Clark shoes, and Born heels, because I can walk briskly in them. I take long strides, so stilettos are out, as is anything that requires tiny, mincing steps.  I need to feel like I can reach, bend, stretch, move in my clothes.

But still, I can have more fun in this new, strange body. Well, not strange.  It's just a body I haven't seen in a long time.  It was all covered up with extra fat, and of course, lots of fabric.


So more often, as the session went on, I found myself saying, You're right.  I haven't worn that in ages.  Sometimes I pull it out of my closet, put it on, and then toss it back into the closet, because it's too big, or looks like shit on me, or both.  No, you're right.  I look like hell in brown.  I don't know why I have so many pieces of brown clothing.

At the end of the event there were five piles of clothing on the bed:

1. These need to go to dry cleaning NOW
2. These need to go to Goodwill.
3. These might could go on Ebay.
4. These need to have about 18" chopped off the hem, or taken in, or both.
5. These are on probation (where you take an item and put it in a separate part of your house, and if you haven't worn it in 6 months, out it goes.)

My "to be altered" pile is pretty big, and will be chipped away at over the next few months.

Meanwhile.

The stuff that is left is, in all honesty, pretty much what I wear now about 90% of the time anyway.

Now, there is more room in the closet, for more adornment, as I continue to explore the new meaning of the space I take up, and the self that I think I am.  I can have fun with this new, smaller me.




...

Dear Diary,

13.  My standard rule regarding my weight ticker is that once I've hit a weight and kept it there for a week, I change my ticker, whether it be up or down. This week, a new low: 146.

12.  Then I got a Groupon for a local Greek restaurant, and ate a shitload of Greek food, and Poof!  Back up to 148, for a day or two, but then dropped again.

11. So, yes, I got THE CALL on Tuesday morning, would I like to come and interview for an internship at the VA?  Oh, wait, let me think HELL YES I would.  So, my interview was today, at noon.

10.  I went to my favorite clothing store to see about getting something decent to wear for the interview.  As a former teacher, I had few summer work clothes to begin with.  In the past two years, the only ones I've amassed are too big.  So, I stopped to get a nice warm-weather office jacket at my favorite store.

While I was at the store I tried on some slacks.  What size, said the sales lady.  "8".  I replied.  She brought me some 8s.
Um.  Miss?  Well....These are too big.

She brought me 6s.  They fit - just a tad snug, but they have spandex in them, so they work.  For the first time since I was a junior in high school, I'm in this newer, lower number.  Cool.

9.  WELL.  Should I be a slave to numbers?  Well, I am anyway, so it might as well be a small one.

WHY am I so hung up on this number?

But the weird thing is taht when I looked into the mirror, I didn't see a smaller number.  I saw--in the words of David Letterman--my pasty white thighs.

*sigh*

I'll just focus on the smaller, new number, and ignore the pasty white thighs.

8. So, I walk into this interview with a sense of confidence because I know a lot of shit.  Being smaller doesn't hurt either .

7.  The interview was a highly structured interview where people took turns asking questions.  I hope I had good answers. Nobody frowned and tapped their pens impatiently.  Nobody looked bored, or unhappy.  Most of the time, they were smiling.

Why do you want to do an internship at the VA?

Tell us about a time you had a conflict where you worked, and how you resolved.

In what way have you used social work in your previous work?

Occasionally there is no stipend available.  Are you still willing to do the internship if that is the case?

How have you worked with veterans in the past?

What strengths do you have to bring to this experience?

and so on...right up to my favorite (and last) question:

What software applications, if any, are you proficient in?

Seriously?  This is the last question? The one that will, hopefully, resound after I leave?

I was flustered for a moment, but just a moment.  Then I said, That's hard for me to answer.  I mean, 'proficient'...I've taught excel, and powerpoint, at the college level, and conducted training in web authoring.  I guess I'm what you might call a 'power user'.  I use email, I spent all day these days using Word.  I'm familiar with your computerized record system; I've used it.  

Smiles all around.

And then I asked my questions.  And then, well, it was over.  It's all over except for the waiting.  It's a highly competitive internship.

6.  Here in 'Burque, where I live, we had Ladies Night at the local cycling store, The Kickstand.  These beyond cool.  There was wine, beer, snacks, and people who represented various cycling interests. I showed up in Outlaws Multisport Regalian, to, you know, represent.  

5. AND, I broke down and bought a pair of cycling knickers this week.  yes--cycling.  Knickers.  I also committed to doing Albuquerque's first women-only triathlon, to be held in August.  I'm very excited about such a thing being in New Mexico.  The finishers will get necklaces, and they are planning a very basic sprint course.  If you live in Albuquerque, come out to Rio Rancho to support this event.  http://livelovetri.blogspot.com/

4.  I also put in my name for the La Luz trail run, which is a local run that happens every year.  I don't think it raises money for charity.  It's 9 miles long.

Oh, c'mon.  You know there has to be a catch.

Well,

Take a gander:





 I know, right?  RIGHT?  I mean, how could I NOT?  It's a 9-mile climb to the top of a mountain.  The mountain is just a few miles from my house.

So, it's a lottery.  I'll find out April 16th if I was selected.

3.  I'm not sure why a kid would show up in an office where someone is deciding if they need mental health treatment and swear constantly at their parent, call them foul names, and believe that it's going to end any way but bad for them.  I really don't.

2.  This is my last build weekend.  10 miles tomorrow, 24 miles on Saturday, and 17 miles on Sunday.

1.   After this weekend, I start tapering down to the first double at the end of the month.  In the meantime, I have assignments to finish, and internships to (hopefully) win.  And numbers to obsess over.  I don't know if things will turn out the way I want them to turn out. For this double coming up, I haven't kept my training up the way I should have.  But for the rest of it, the internship, the La Luz lottery, it's not up to me any longer.  So I'll just focusing on relaxing, and accepting what happens.

...

Into the wind. Thursday 13

Dear Diary,

13.  I should be reading chapter 9 and 10 in this book, but instead, I'm doing this.

12.  I am signed up to do the Country Music marathon as the first of four marathons in 10 days. The country music marathon is on April 30, and will undoubtedly be hideous, commercial, and crowded.  Plus, I HATE country music.  So why am I doing it?  Because it will give me Tennessee, state #13.  I don't plan to stick around for food or anything else, because the deep South scares me so.  So it's on to Ohio right after the marathon.  It is hillier than I imagined it would be.  I had hopes of breaking five hours - I don't think it's going to happen here.

April 30 - Country Western Marathon Elevation

11. RatBastard commented to a fellow therapist that some people had referred to him as "creepy".  I was startled, but then I remembered:

a) I normally just refer to him as RatBastard, or Mordac.  Not creepy.

b) Many of the people I have spoken with refer to him as creepy.  So it's not always about me.

10.  I am signed up to do the Flying Pig marathon on May 1, as marathon #2 of this debacle.  I have never been to Cincinatti before, but have been intrigued by this marathon since before I did marathon, when, indeed, I would have described my likelihood of ever doing one.  I understand that while in Cincinatti, I am supposed to try something called "a skyliner."  I may break my ban on hotdogs and have one at this place, especially after running 52 miles in 2 days.  This will give me Ohio, state #14.

May 1 - Cincinatti Course Profile

9. No word on the internship yet.  I understand that today is their deadline for deciding who to interview, so I will wait for the rest of the day, ignoring people and staring at my cell phone: ring, phone, ring.

8.  I'm signed up for the Wisconsin marathon as #3 in this experience, on May 7.  This will give me state #15.  I love that the marathon finisher's medal is a piece of cheese, and I love that they bill this marathon as "The Cheesiest."  Don't let the profile scare you.  Look at the numbers on the side, and also understand that I'll have five days of rest between marathons #2 and #3.  There's 40 feet between the highest and lowest points.  I think you have 6.5 hours to finish, and I might need them, too.   This, then, might represent a chance to break five hours.

May 7 - Wisconsin Marathon

7.  Yesteday I got to start doing my favoritist run EVAR again.  This is the one where I take off from home about 5:15 and run 2 miles uphill and then a long 4-mile gentle downhill, to where Sweet Baboo sit, with engine running and a Starbucks, to carry me back home.

6.  Finally, I am signed up for the Inaugural Kalamazoo marathon as the fourth marathon of my double-double in early May. This will be state #16.  The Kalamazoo marathon wanted to get people from every state for their first marathon, so they offered incentives to those who were the first to sign up from their state.  As planned by Sweet Baboo, I was the first from New Mexico.  So, the incentives: They are going to refund my entry fee, and give me a free pair of New Balance 890s, and all the fifty-staters get their own starting tent separate from the other marathoners.  Not a bad way to finish out this series.   I imagine new shoes will be nice to have; I imagine after 3 marathons my road shoes will be pretty flattened down.

May 8 - Kalamazoo Marathon

5.  Sweet Baboo bought me an early Mom's day present - he's still filling in for the kids that don't give me anything for mother's day (other than a grudging, 'whatever.  happy mother's day' after I've gone into graphic detail the pain of their birth.)  Anyway.  He bought me a Garmin 310XT.  I LOVE this thing.  It's smaller, and lighter (I'm fussy about things on my wrist) and it vibrates every mile, so that I don't have to keep looking at it, and when I get home, I just sent it down in front of my computer while I shower, and it uploads itself.

4.  In June, I'll be capturing state #17, Wyoming, the Bighorn Ultra.  It's a 50 mile race because I was stupid enough to wait until the 50K was full.  I figure that other than miles where I'm going sharply uphill, it's pretty doable.  Maybe not enjoyable, but doable.

3.  I discovered this week why I leave home before 7:30.  It's because, apparently, those people prone to get into accidents leave home at 8:00.

2.  Today I ran up a hill, into the wind, down a hill, into a wind, and on the loop I ran I was into the wind on the way out and into the wind on the way back.  How is this possible?  Because I live in fucking New Mexico.  That's how.  

1.  I had the unique pleasure of having my annual physical exam today.  Here are the order of events:

1) Nurse, who has known me for ten years, calls me back.  First stop: the SCALE.

2) I step on the scale.  She jots down 148.  

3)  We go into the exam room, where she opens the computerized charting system to enter my information in...and...

then she hesitates.  Looks at the chart. Looks at the paper she jotted down on.  

The chart, which has last year's weight, says 178.

"Did I measure you at 148?"

"Yes."

"You've lost thirty pounds since last year?"

"Yes"

Now, what made this such a momentous occasion is that every single EVERY SINGLE year I have had my physical exam during the annual uptick in my weight. After I put on my winter weight.  So his chart for me, over the years, said

165...160...170...158...165...160...165...170...178...148.

Oh, yeah.  That's right. I impressed my doctor.  He was all happy before at the drop in my resting heart rate.  

ohhhh yeahhhhh.

....

13 Peepy Things.

Dear Diary,

Peeps rumble.

13.  Ever have one of those verbal interchanges with someone who is so nasty and condescending, telling you in every word that they think you're an idiot, and questioning your every bit of professional competence, so  that it's all you can do not to snap your fingers, bob your head side-to-side, and say, BITCH - I WILL CUT YOU                                                                             
?
Oh. well.  No, me neither.

12.   I. love. American Nijnja Warrior.  I'm not ashamed to say it.  If you love it too, you'll love this commercial.

11.  There is a woman in my family therapy class who--well, I have to back up a bit.  As part of our class requirements, we have to partner up with someone and do a role play.  The role play is to simulate a family therapy session.  Two people, family role play.  Yeah, I know.  But anyway.

Peeps sushi rolls (with fruit roll-ups in
place of seaweed wraps, and
marshmallow rice crispies.  

So this woman, she watches each role play with a checklist in front of her, and then at the end of each role play, she tells people what they got, and what they missed.  She is not the teacher, nor is she a practicing therapist; she is a student, actually less experienced than many of her fellow students who are beginning to grind their teeth with hatred for her. When she does this we all kind of roll our eyes at each other.  I wonder if she knows how much she is mocked.  Probably not.  Anyway. If you do this, go ahead and stop.  You're pissing everyone off.

10. Countdown the end of the semester - I turned in an application last week to interview for an internship at the VA hospital.  If I get it, not only will I possibly be a step closer to actually working there one day, but it will be terrific experience.  I had decided that for my final internship year I wanted to work with grownups, or at the very least, clients who no longer lived with their parents. The VA is at the forefront of the latest in evidence-based treatments for mental disorders, including PTSD, and I love their non-woo-woo, show-me-the-research attitude.

If I got this, I could commute in with Sweet Baboo twice a week.  Now I'm sitting on my hands waiting for the cell phone to ring.  RING, phone.  RING.  We are admonished to take the first internship we are offered, so I have put off interviewing for any others until this one.  This means that other openings are drying up.  If they don't call, well, then I may be totally screwed.

The Trouble With Tribbles, starring
the Peeps.

9.  I thought I got a D on one of my midterms, but I was wrong; I got a B-.  Suh-weet!  I've been bummed about that all week.  I'm muchly cheered up.  My other midterms I got a B+ and an A-.

8.  I hit a new low this week: 145.  I don't put it on the ticker until I've held it for a week, so we'll see if it sticks.  I tend to hit my low on Wednesday after days of eating lightly and being dehydrated.  Still, it is a new low, so we'll see.  Dehydrated weight counts, right?  Sure it does.

7.  Believe it or not, even PC therapists say some very non-PC things, like when watching reality shows on A&E, like Hoarders and Heavy.  I wish I could share them with you.  But they would be way too offensive.

Bucket o'Peeps

6.  PEEPS!  PEEEEEPS!  That is all.

5.  The daughter experiment is better.  I put her on a schedule, which I figured would result in resentment and rebellion, but she seemed relieved, and is following it.  It divides up her day so that she is more productive.  Somewhat.

What makes all this interesting is that I teach an NEO in family systems at work twice a month.  I have 30 minutes to teach family systems.  yes.  So, but what I highlight is how we often slip back into our roles when we're around our family of origin, no matter what strides we have taken to become self-actualized human beings since leaving home.  Ergo, I present to you my visual aid: My daughter, who is no longer 23, she is a boy-crazy teenager.

4.  I binged on Japanese food today.  I know that seems like a contradiction in terms, but *urp*.

3.  I attended a DBT workshop today, and am ready to get down with my Wise Mind.  Honk if you know what that means.

2.  So I'm not running today.  I'm exhausted.  I've been getting progressively less sleep and rest at the week wears on, and I can feel  it, that sick, empty feeling you get when you're short on sleep.  And it's hell on my skin. Once a bad lifestyle choice begins to affect me cosmetically, look out. So I'm giving myself permission to ditch my run tonight, even though that will put me about 13 miles behind for the week.  I will rest and sleep.  The current plan: run about 10 miles tomorrow when I get home.  It's a seminar day, I expect to be well-rested.

Then, Saturday morning, heading out with some peers for a long hike in the mountains (about 12 miles, after which I'll run home to finish out another 5 miles.  Then Sunday, a 22-mile, mostly flat or downhill run.  Then I'll be all caught up.

1.  I'm considering the Mt. Si run in Washington state in April.  It just came up.  Himself is doing a training there, so he'll be there the week of, so all we have to do is foot the bill for my plane fare.  Plus, it will give me state #13: Washington.  Hmm.  I keep ya posted.

...