dear finish line...

[recommended musica: #177, the chariots of fire theme song. boy howdy.]

location: my kitchen table

what i see: my poor nauseated roommate lying on the floor

wait, why is my roommate nauseated? well, we're not entirely sure of the root cause. but it can't have helped that she toughed it out and we just ran 5 miles anyway.

yes, 5. that's a lot less than 13.2.

but nonetheless ... i promptly came home and registered for my first half marathon. marty, we're (dis)affectionately dubbing it.

we hate marty. we love marty. we want to beat marty up. marty makes us feel good inside. marty makes our bodies hurt. marty makes our hearts healthy. marty makes us weep, wail & gnash our teeth. marty gives me excuses to buy new songs for my ipod.

(...turns out marty is a lot like being in a dysfunctional relationship...)

perhaps i will consider couples counseling.

in the meantime, i will keep running. because marty's got nothing on me.

i've just ... never been a distance runner before. ever. i wimp out after a mile or two.

and i've always watched my friends train and cross those finish lines and been oh-so-jealous.

oh. so. jealous.

so now it's go time. someone be there to catch me on the other side of the finish line.

p.s.

we're doing london's run on january 29. all the money goes to leukemia patients. and we all know i'm a sucker for helping the sick childrens ...

sutures

 it's rather dark in here. natural lighting is hiding behind the pre-stormy clouds and i've really got this thing against light bulbs these days. mostly because they won't commit.

fact: i can be accident prone.

other fact: i tried to open something with a pocket knife the other night.

other other fact: i slipped.

another other fact: the ER isn't such a bad place at night if you like eavesdropping on drug-induced conversations.

introducing, my new pal frankenfinger:

truth: it never really hurt that bad. and it's actually quite intriguing to have stitches in your own finger, like you're a piece of fabric or something. i occasionally slide the bandage off and examine the holes in my finger and poke it a little bit.

fascinating.

my new role model:

the most painful part were the numbing shots. i hate needles. the PA told me he sees too many people in the ER who love them, so i was a nice change. (cue the druggies in the background)

conversation:

dr: have you ever had stitches?

i: nope.

(pause)

i: have you ever given stitches?

other conversation:

dr: do you know what that white part is?

i: my finger meat?

dr: (laughs) it's fat.

i: put that back in there!!!

dr: most people tell me to take it out.

i: no way. my fingers get too cold.

fact:

no less than 3 people (2 family members & one BFF) responded to the initial news of my traumatic injury by making fun of the time i sewed my finger to a sewing machine. okay, touche. (jerks.)

last fact:

my first thought after the injury...

"BUT I HAVE A FRISBEE TOURNAMENT ON SATURDAY!"

(foreshadowing the next blog post, at a date TBD. stay tuned.)

p.s.

you know "buddy the elf - what's your favorite color?"

i think i've become "i'm katie - want to see my stitches??"

p.p.s.

michaelangelo?

stuffed with fluff

[recommended music: #152, "skinny love" by bon iver. because it's mesmerizing and lovely. who cares what it even means...]

location: next to a bowl of bowtie noodles
what i see: my bowtie noodles

here's the deal.

i read many, many books.

i like many, many authors.


but i may ... have chosen a favorite. simply for the simple way he writes. it's like reading the thoughts from my own head. enchanting, darling, endearing and, yes, simple.


introducing: a.a. milne. beloved creator of christopher robin and his 100-acre posse, including a certain stout little bear with a rumbly tumbly. (speaking of bowtie noodles...)


in no particular order, 12 reasons for my undying adoration:


1. never forget me - because if i thought you would, i'd never leave.


2. promise me you'll always remember: you're braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think.


3. "when you wake up in the morning," said Piglet at last, "what's the first thing you say to yourself?"
"what's for breakfast?" said Pooh. "what do you say, Piglet?"
"i say, 'i wonder what's going to happen exciting today?'" said Piglet.
Pooh nodded thoughtfully.
"it's the same thing," he said.


4. if you live to be a hundred, i want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so i never have to live without you.


5. my spelling is Wobbly. it's good spelling but it Wobbles, and the letters get in the wrong places.


6. he respects Owl, because you can't help respecting anyone who can spell Tuesday, even if he doesn't spell it right.


7. what i say is that, if a fellow really likes potatoes, he must be a pretty decent sort of fellow.


8. one of the advantages of being disorderly is that one is constantly making exciting discoveries. (stop thinking this applies to me. you stop that right now. ...okay it totally applies...)


9. the more he looked inside, the more Piglet wasn't there.


10. when you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and you Think of Things, you find sometimes that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it.

11. "supposing a tree fell down, Pooh, when we were underneath it?"
"supposing it didn't," said Pooh.
after careful thought, Piglet was comforted by this.


12. weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them.


enchanting. darling. endearing. simple.


all my favorite adjectives.



soooo going on my christmas list:





p.s. what is it that's so lovely about books with ribbon placemarkers?