When I was a very little girl, I found a pair of tiny scissors. They were probably used by my dad for trimming nose hair or his mustache. I don't remember where I got them, but it's safest to bet they were my dad's.
You know how many people (yourself included) are pyromaniacs? Well, not me. I mean, I like a good fire, but I just don't get my jollies from playing with it. It burns. It smokes.
Well, I do have a thing for cutting. I don't know what it is. But when I found those scissors, I kept them on me at all times (only at the house). (Well, I don't know if I was even school-aged, to be honest.) And what I did with those scissors? Ha, well, let me tell you. I cut my brothers' hair. Both of them. (Not both hairs. Both brothers' hairs.) Not all at one sitting. But every once in awhile I'd whip out those little scissors and cut some of their hair. They're younger than me, so it was easy to persuade them - if they even knew what was going on.
Eventually my mom found out and the scissors were taken away.
Well, that wasn't a thing of the past. It wasn't a childish game to carry scissors around and cut my brothers' hair. Just a few moments ago, I was looking for my scissors and when I found them, I started cutting my cats' hair. Two different cats. I would have just kept going if the cats didn't start batting at the scissors. This JUST happened. Why do I have a fascination with cutting hair? Not giving haircuts. Don't think that I like to cut hair for real, and give it a style. No. I'm no good at that. I just like to cut hairs. Elvis (my cat) might have a funky patch of hair on his haunches now....but that's the great thing about hair. It'll grow back!
July 1, 2011
June 27, 2011
Alicia Goes to the Zoo
I'm failing at blogging because I'm trying to finish a screenplay and I feel like all my writing time and thinking should go toward said screenplay. BUT I am having such a blast doing my zoo internship that I felt I should share a little bit about it.
There are only three men in my section of the bird department and you can distinguish them by smell. D. is the oldest, has worked there for, like, 30 years, is hilarious and awesome and will talk to you about ANYTHING. He usually smells like BO. But he works hard and is so cool that you just accept it as the musk of a man who works hard all day. I had a conversation with him about what giving birth does to your bladder. No wait, that was my great uncle Bob. Well, D. is the kinda guy you COULD talk to about what giving birth does to your bladder. [No, I have not given birth but I recently read something about what it can do to your bladder.]
On the other end of the spectrum is C. He smells SOOOOOO good. Every day. All day. SO good. He's also funny and cool, really smart and seems to be a hard worker. He thinks I'm the only one in the world who likes Nebraska as much as I do. But he thinks that's cool. He also told me that I probably indimidate half the men in San Antonio because of my height (which isn't that tall...except it is in San Antonio), after I confessed to having an insecurity about my height.
Then there's W. He's freakishly tall and doesn't smell at all. At least I haven't noticed. And what I HAVE noticed is that my nose is freakishly talented. Man, that thing can SMELL. Most of the time, especially at a zoo, I wish it wouldn't. But it does. But it doesn't smell W. Maybe it's because he doesn't work as hard so his deodorant doesn't have to perform or doesn't wear off. He does have nice legs, though. That's gotta count for something.
I don't distinguish the females in the dept. by smell. There are more of them and they're all so different. They all work pretty hard and they're all really nice to the interns. One is scary, to me, but I just try to stay away from her. Though she apparently once through a trash can into a room and hit C. He said it was really awkward. I can imagine. She's so quiet but seems to have an anger issue. Hence why I just stay away.
Then there are the BIRDS. Tons of birds. With tons of birds comes tons of bird diets. With tons of food comes tons of poop. I've been pooped on may times. Just yesterday I was the victim of a fly-by poop attack. I was sitting in Lory Landing with the keeper (she has an injury and can't do much, has to sit, use crutches, etc.) and all of a sudden I thought I felt the rustle of wings by my feet. When I looked down, all I saw was a spray of poop across both my ankles. No bird in sight.
In one area, Big Lake, there are TONS of egrets who don't belong in the zoo. They come and nest and steal food. And because of them, there's a constant rain of poop. It's mostly tiny little specks that look like white paint. But sometimes it's a big dump. I haven't had one of those. Just a smallish dump on my head. But the things that gross you out at the zoo are very limited. After having to slice up whole fish on my first day, I'm not sure what will gross me out anymore.
Just yesterday I got really dirty from a dank, spider-infested hole. Three lories got into a spot underneath the deck in their exhibit so another intern and I had to get them out. Well, in the process, we discovered a little nook that they might be hiding in. I couldn't see in so I had the other intern (who is 4' 11") climb on my back to look in. So my face is smashed into the spiderweb-covered rock wall, spiders staring me in the face, while she's telling me to get closer or move to the side. I'm sure we looked really cool. (Later that day we got schooled by some other lories we were trying to catch-up. They're too freaking smart.)
I almost crapped myself because a condor flew past my face while I was bleaching his pool and I was staring off into space. Those birds are HUGE.
I have hand-fed baby rats/mice to tawny frogmouths. I have hand-fed fish to a pack of pelicans. I have hand-fed fish to a black neck stork. I have hand-fed peanuts to [I think a sandhill] crane. I've had cuckoos dive-bomb at my head and face. I have named a mean western crown pigeon Richard - and it's catching on.
I have cleaned and fed-out numerous exhibits by myself, which is a fun thing to do. I especially like cleaning the flamingoes food pool because there's a family of ducklings that always swim around. [They don't belong to the zoo but they're my favorite birds!]
So much happens on a daily basis that I can hardly remember it all. But these are some highlights of my zoo days.
There are only three men in my section of the bird department and you can distinguish them by smell. D. is the oldest, has worked there for, like, 30 years, is hilarious and awesome and will talk to you about ANYTHING. He usually smells like BO. But he works hard and is so cool that you just accept it as the musk of a man who works hard all day. I had a conversation with him about what giving birth does to your bladder. No wait, that was my great uncle Bob. Well, D. is the kinda guy you COULD talk to about what giving birth does to your bladder. [No, I have not given birth but I recently read something about what it can do to your bladder.]
On the other end of the spectrum is C. He smells SOOOOOO good. Every day. All day. SO good. He's also funny and cool, really smart and seems to be a hard worker. He thinks I'm the only one in the world who likes Nebraska as much as I do. But he thinks that's cool. He also told me that I probably indimidate half the men in San Antonio because of my height (which isn't that tall...except it is in San Antonio), after I confessed to having an insecurity about my height.
Then there's W. He's freakishly tall and doesn't smell at all. At least I haven't noticed. And what I HAVE noticed is that my nose is freakishly talented. Man, that thing can SMELL. Most of the time, especially at a zoo, I wish it wouldn't. But it does. But it doesn't smell W. Maybe it's because he doesn't work as hard so his deodorant doesn't have to perform or doesn't wear off. He does have nice legs, though. That's gotta count for something.
I don't distinguish the females in the dept. by smell. There are more of them and they're all so different. They all work pretty hard and they're all really nice to the interns. One is scary, to me, but I just try to stay away from her. Though she apparently once through a trash can into a room and hit C. He said it was really awkward. I can imagine. She's so quiet but seems to have an anger issue. Hence why I just stay away.
Then there are the BIRDS. Tons of birds. With tons of birds comes tons of bird diets. With tons of food comes tons of poop. I've been pooped on may times. Just yesterday I was the victim of a fly-by poop attack. I was sitting in Lory Landing with the keeper (she has an injury and can't do much, has to sit, use crutches, etc.) and all of a sudden I thought I felt the rustle of wings by my feet. When I looked down, all I saw was a spray of poop across both my ankles. No bird in sight.
In one area, Big Lake, there are TONS of egrets who don't belong in the zoo. They come and nest and steal food. And because of them, there's a constant rain of poop. It's mostly tiny little specks that look like white paint. But sometimes it's a big dump. I haven't had one of those. Just a smallish dump on my head. But the things that gross you out at the zoo are very limited. After having to slice up whole fish on my first day, I'm not sure what will gross me out anymore.
Just yesterday I got really dirty from a dank, spider-infested hole. Three lories got into a spot underneath the deck in their exhibit so another intern and I had to get them out. Well, in the process, we discovered a little nook that they might be hiding in. I couldn't see in so I had the other intern (who is 4' 11") climb on my back to look in. So my face is smashed into the spiderweb-covered rock wall, spiders staring me in the face, while she's telling me to get closer or move to the side. I'm sure we looked really cool. (Later that day we got schooled by some other lories we were trying to catch-up. They're too freaking smart.)
I almost crapped myself because a condor flew past my face while I was bleaching his pool and I was staring off into space. Those birds are HUGE.
I have hand-fed baby rats/mice to tawny frogmouths. I have hand-fed fish to a pack of pelicans. I have hand-fed fish to a black neck stork. I have hand-fed peanuts to [I think a sandhill] crane. I've had cuckoos dive-bomb at my head and face. I have named a mean western crown pigeon Richard - and it's catching on.
I have cleaned and fed-out numerous exhibits by myself, which is a fun thing to do. I especially like cleaning the flamingoes food pool because there's a family of ducklings that always swim around. [They don't belong to the zoo but they're my favorite birds!]
So much happens on a daily basis that I can hardly remember it all. But these are some highlights of my zoo days.
May 4, 2011
Something Completely Unrelated
This song just came on the radio and reminded me of this awesome adventure. Before I had rhythm. Which I DO have now. Seriously.
May 3, 2011
Alicia watches too much X Files.
[Before you start wondering if I should have said "too many X Files" rather than "too much X Files," let me explain my reasoning for the way I wrote it. Think of it as "Alicia watches too much (of one show)" and it makes sense. I'm not thinking "X Files" as in the plural of something. It's one show. Called X Files.]
I started watching X Files in December, when I visited some friends in Califorina. They showed me the first movie and a few random episodes. Since I had nothing going on with my life, I decided I would continue watching it at home because all the seasons stream on Netflix. Well, there were a few interruptions with business and a lack of internet, but I'm finally down to the very last seven episodes. Whenever I watch X Files, it is the only thing I can watch at that time, meaning I will watch an entire season in a couple of days. That usually affects my life in some way. Right now it's affecting my dreams (and how nervous I get being home alone).
I had the creepiest dream last night. A man was stalking me because he wanted to eat me. He kept trying to make fattening meals, to fatten ME up. At one point I was in a hotel room and somehow he came to be standing there. I kept trying to run away from him and he kept finding me and getting into wherever I was. [Turns out my hotel room had a couple doors that didn't secure.] I never remember the details and entire plot lines of my dreams very well, but I do know that this guy [and a woman, too] pursued me all over and they were creepy. They would just be in my room. They wouldn't attack but they would look and stare. Sometimes they would be cooking.
Then I woke up and my blind eyes mistook jackets and purses hanging on my door for a person in my room. Well, I just about had a heart attack right there. This dream wore me out so badly that I actually slept until my alarm for the first time in about five days.
I started watching X Files in December, when I visited some friends in Califorina. They showed me the first movie and a few random episodes. Since I had nothing going on with my life, I decided I would continue watching it at home because all the seasons stream on Netflix. Well, there were a few interruptions with business and a lack of internet, but I'm finally down to the very last seven episodes. Whenever I watch X Files, it is the only thing I can watch at that time, meaning I will watch an entire season in a couple of days. That usually affects my life in some way. Right now it's affecting my dreams (and how nervous I get being home alone).
I had the creepiest dream last night. A man was stalking me because he wanted to eat me. He kept trying to make fattening meals, to fatten ME up. At one point I was in a hotel room and somehow he came to be standing there. I kept trying to run away from him and he kept finding me and getting into wherever I was. [Turns out my hotel room had a couple doors that didn't secure.] I never remember the details and entire plot lines of my dreams very well, but I do know that this guy [and a woman, too] pursued me all over and they were creepy. They would just be in my room. They wouldn't attack but they would look and stare. Sometimes they would be cooking.
Then I woke up and my blind eyes mistook jackets and purses hanging on my door for a person in my room. Well, I just about had a heart attack right there. This dream wore me out so badly that I actually slept until my alarm for the first time in about five days.
Am I in Texas yet?
So back when I signed up for this long-@$$ temp job, my goal was to stay in STL at least until Katie's wedding, March 12. I had been looking for jobs, unsuccessfully, for two weeks by then. I had run out of money. My roommate was letting me owe her rent at an undetermined date. I had signed up for unemployment the end of my first unemployed week and wasn't seeing anything. So I thought a temp agency was my last choice before being shipped off to Texas, making it more difficult to get back to STL to be in Katie's wedding. Just a few days after my meeting at the agency they found a gig for me! And they wanted me to start in just a few days. I was cool with that. When I initially accepted it they said six weeks. That was perfect. I could stay for Katie's wedding and then earn a couple more weeks of money before driving to Tejas. Well, when I started working and the lady I was going to be temping for was training me, she mentioned something about eight weeks. Then I heard it again, the next week, when she was gone. So I thought, ok, maybe they're expecting eight weeks. That's not that much longer. I could do that. What else do I have going on besides moving to Texas? Then eight weeks came...and went. Chawntina, the girl I'm subbing for, came and showed off her new baby and I overheard her tell my boss she'd be coming back May 9. That would make my stay officially 10 weeks long. Even though I signed up for six. They're lucky I have nothing else going on with my life otherwise they'd have to train someone without the main girl, because she would still be on maternity leave. They're also lucky that I'm enjoying getting a paycheck every week. So lucky.
The job's really not bad but I'm just anxious to get to Texas, to get it over with so I can stop imagining what it's going to be like to live with my mom and brothers, who I haven't lived with since I was 18. And it was rough then. Now I'm two years out of college, one of my brothers is legal and they're both adults. I can't even fathom what this will be like. I will be living in what used to be my old office [we moved into this house near my birthday, almost half way through my senior year of high school, when my parents officially split for good, and it only has 3 bedrooms. Since I was going off to college in less than a year, my brothers were given their own rooms and my mom and I shared the HUGE master bedroom with a HUGE walk-in closet shaped like an "L," with our own bathroom. I got the tiny room downstairs to use as my "office," or just a personal space for all my stuff.] on a futon with a quarter of my belongings with me, with the rest of them in storage in Nebraska.
My brothers are boys [surprise!], so that already has me wary. They're loud. They fight. They're obnoxious. I'm pretty sure my headaches will all come back. Just thinking about it gives me a nervous headache. But I'm trying to be positive and excited. I don't know how long this will last. My current plan [and my plans NEVER work out] is to spend the summer writing my screenplay while working part time, paying people back and then when the screenplay is done, I will look for a real job. I have NO CLUE what kind of real job or where, but I guess it's time to fit myself into the American lifestyle, right? That's what everyone tells me, anyway. "Get a steady job that actually has benefits and PAYS you." "Live somewhere." "Contribute to society." "Get a dog." "You can't live in a van down by the river."
Guess what. I'm the only person I know who regularly volunteers [probably not]. I think that counts as contributing to society. But I'm also bumming off people and living on air mattresses and futons. So maybe those two cancel each other out.
I just don't know what to do with myself. And moving in with my mom and my brothers isn't making me feel any less anxious about the "rest of my life." Maybe this will inspire me to just WRITE and maybe [doubt it] I could actually PUBLISH some stuff. My uncle is going to help me get the screenplay somewhere [I'm not getting my hopes up too high but it's something I have to TRY] and I have a great idea for a memoir [plus, my life in the past couple of years just lends itself to a hilarious book idea]. Meanwhile I will spend my weekends feeding baby squirrels and cleaning up goose poo - if they have geese in Texas. I can't remember.
Oh, and my whole point is that I'm now in my 10th week of a six-week gig and the girl I'm temping for has yet to send my boss her official return notice. So right now I'm in St. Louis for an undetermined amount of time. Even though I have a whole Mother's Day adventure planned for May 15 in Texas. As much as I don't want to leave my best friends who live in this city, I do want this waiting game to be over. I want to BE somewhere, here or there. But I would also like a million dollars and a laptop. [Hint, hint.]
The job's really not bad but I'm just anxious to get to Texas, to get it over with so I can stop imagining what it's going to be like to live with my mom and brothers, who I haven't lived with since I was 18. And it was rough then. Now I'm two years out of college, one of my brothers is legal and they're both adults. I can't even fathom what this will be like. I will be living in what used to be my old office [we moved into this house near my birthday, almost half way through my senior year of high school, when my parents officially split for good, and it only has 3 bedrooms. Since I was going off to college in less than a year, my brothers were given their own rooms and my mom and I shared the HUGE master bedroom with a HUGE walk-in closet shaped like an "L," with our own bathroom. I got the tiny room downstairs to use as my "office," or just a personal space for all my stuff.] on a futon with a quarter of my belongings with me, with the rest of them in storage in Nebraska.
My brothers are boys [surprise!], so that already has me wary. They're loud. They fight. They're obnoxious. I'm pretty sure my headaches will all come back. Just thinking about it gives me a nervous headache. But I'm trying to be positive and excited. I don't know how long this will last. My current plan [and my plans NEVER work out] is to spend the summer writing my screenplay while working part time, paying people back and then when the screenplay is done, I will look for a real job. I have NO CLUE what kind of real job or where, but I guess it's time to fit myself into the American lifestyle, right? That's what everyone tells me, anyway. "Get a steady job that actually has benefits and PAYS you." "Live somewhere." "Contribute to society." "Get a dog." "You can't live in a van down by the river."
Guess what. I'm the only person I know who regularly volunteers [probably not]. I think that counts as contributing to society. But I'm also bumming off people and living on air mattresses and futons. So maybe those two cancel each other out.
I just don't know what to do with myself. And moving in with my mom and my brothers isn't making me feel any less anxious about the "rest of my life." Maybe this will inspire me to just WRITE and maybe [doubt it] I could actually PUBLISH some stuff. My uncle is going to help me get the screenplay somewhere [I'm not getting my hopes up too high but it's something I have to TRY] and I have a great idea for a memoir [plus, my life in the past couple of years just lends itself to a hilarious book idea]. Meanwhile I will spend my weekends feeding baby squirrels and cleaning up goose poo - if they have geese in Texas. I can't remember.
Oh, and my whole point is that I'm now in my 10th week of a six-week gig and the girl I'm temping for has yet to send my boss her official return notice. So right now I'm in St. Louis for an undetermined amount of time. Even though I have a whole Mother's Day adventure planned for May 15 in Texas. As much as I don't want to leave my best friends who live in this city, I do want this waiting game to be over. I want to BE somewhere, here or there. But I would also like a million dollars and a laptop. [Hint, hint.]
April 29, 2011
Where did Alicia run yesterday?
I'm glad you asked. I took advantage of a lovely little trail called "Grant's Trail." According to the Internet, Grant's Trail is 8 miles long. I only ran about 1.5 miles of it [but I looped, so I really ran the same 1.5 miles twice]. Emily has lived right by this trail for, what, a year? And I don't think she's ever used it! Granted she doesn't have a bike, but still. It's awesome! I would never be inside at a gym if I had this trail by me all year! [Ok, except for that snowy season that lasted 3-5 months. And when there's Zumba. And when the cute manager is working.] Anyway, it's awesome. It's paved, so rough on the shins, but where are you really going to find a non-paved running trail right by your apartment?
Since my iPod died about three minutes into my run, I got to just enjoy the sounds and sights of nature. There were a MILLION birds on the trail. Maybe it just seemed like there were so many because it's the most natural area of St. Louis I've seen yet. Besides the Botanical Gardens. Actually, a bird almost hit me while I was running at a snail's pace. [I think I am more affected by "The Birds" then I ever imagined was possible.] I almost had to duck as it flew at my head. Which reminds me of a story:
The summer between my junior and senior years of college I went on the most amazing class trip EVER. It was a National Parks conservation class trip where, for two weeks, we toured four National Parks in the southwest. A couple of my best friends were on the trip, as well as a few people I had never met before but who became lifelong friends after the trip. And then there were the weirdos. Our teacher was super awesome. Anyway, one day we're walking through Canyonlands on some trail and there's a low-hanging branch. As we all walk past it, we warn those behind us. I told my newish friend, Lisa, to duck. She hit the branch with her head anyway. When we asked her why she didn't duck like we told her, she said, "I was thinking about ducks." In the middle of the desert. On that same trail Lisa, Katie [yes, the same Katie I just spent Easter with] and I all had to pee. You know how you pee on miles-long trails in the desert, right? Pick a tree and squat [unless you're a boy, then just stand anywhere and pee]. So we all left the group [not very far off the trail] to find a place to squat. As we're doing this, a whole group of children come down the trail. We could see them from where we were...and hopefully they couldn't see us. Indecent exposure to minors, much?? Just kidding. It wasn't that severe. They probably weren't as young as I remember. But it could have been embarrassing. For everyone involved. But when you haven't showered for a week and you're wearing a baseball cap and carrying a million bottles of water in a backpack as you hike for miles every day, you begin to take on a different life view. Everyone is your friend out there [Seriously. In the NPs, everyone was so friendly. It was like the universe became very tiny and revolved around you and the people camping nearby. It also helps that there were almost no electronics anywhere.]
Wow, long tangent. Back to my trail running. As I ran the trail, I had to cross one busy street in the middle of my run. I waited for my "walking" sign on the way out but on the way back, I grew impatient and crossed when traffic was slow. I swear, while I was crossing there was a crazy beeping noise and I expected some bike cop to ride up to me and give me a ticket for crossing before the sign told me I could. I expected this for almost a mile. No bike cop ever came. Maybe they got a picture of me crossing and will mail me a ticket. Good luck finding me, suckas! There's no way they'll recognize me on my driver's license from a picture of me running....oh, wait. I look EXACTLY the same. When I got my driver's license, I was 16 and had just come from basketball practice. They made me take my glasses off and my hair was pulled back. That's exactly how I looked while running yesterday. Sweaty, ponytail, and contacts. SHOOT. AND I still get mistaken for a 16 year old. Good new is that I get a BRAND NEW ID in November! It will be the first time my license expires EVER and a chance for a NEW PICTURE. After SEVEN years of this horrible picture. I hide my ID behind my old college ID because it's better that way. I don't open up my wallet every day and start crying because of the hideous face staring back at me, unfocused [I'm sure my eyes aren't focused in that pic because they took my GLASSES so I couldn't see what I was looking at]. The day I originally went to get my license, I had just been involved in a million sports pictures (basketball, JV volleyball, Varsity volleyball and softball) so my hair was all did and I looked presentable. But I didn't have all my paperwork. So I had to come back later, on a day when I played basketball, and take that awful picture that has haunted me for seven years. It got worse when I turned 21 because then you get CARDED and pull out your ID more than you ever thought possible. And it looks AWFUL. And it's from Texas so everyone in Nebraska has to STARE at it for five minutes to find the birth date. And in Missouri, they have to stare, too, but they don't card as often.
The moral of this whole post, actually, is that if you workout: DON'T EVER STOP. I did a plyometric workout the other day, the day before my first outdoor run in 8 months, and I have hurt so badly ever since. Yesterday my upper body hurt so badly I couldn't take a full breath so I spent the day with the hyperventilating yawns. Today my legs hurt so bad that I want to cry every time I sit on a toilet...or move a leg. I'm supposed to go a party tonight...I don't know how I will survive. All I want to do is knock myself out with some kind of pain or sleeping drug and dream my painful soreness away. I can't remember hurting this bad ever before. Though, I'm sure it happened sometime in basketball conditioning or college track. Lesson learned: I will never let any significant time come between me and hard workouts. Not any more than a week. I don't even know if I'm sore from my run because it probably just added onto my previous soreness. I thought running would actually make me feel better...but it's worse. But I'm not going to stop. Since I hurt so bad anyway, even when I'm not moving, I might as well keep running and get my lungs in shape while my body screams at me.
Since my iPod died about three minutes into my run, I got to just enjoy the sounds and sights of nature. There were a MILLION birds on the trail. Maybe it just seemed like there were so many because it's the most natural area of St. Louis I've seen yet. Besides the Botanical Gardens. Actually, a bird almost hit me while I was running at a snail's pace. [I think I am more affected by "The Birds" then I ever imagined was possible.] I almost had to duck as it flew at my head. Which reminds me of a story:
The summer between my junior and senior years of college I went on the most amazing class trip EVER. It was a National Parks conservation class trip where, for two weeks, we toured four National Parks in the southwest. A couple of my best friends were on the trip, as well as a few people I had never met before but who became lifelong friends after the trip. And then there were the weirdos. Our teacher was super awesome. Anyway, one day we're walking through Canyonlands on some trail and there's a low-hanging branch. As we all walk past it, we warn those behind us. I told my newish friend, Lisa, to duck. She hit the branch with her head anyway. When we asked her why she didn't duck like we told her, she said, "I was thinking about ducks." In the middle of the desert. On that same trail Lisa, Katie [yes, the same Katie I just spent Easter with] and I all had to pee. You know how you pee on miles-long trails in the desert, right? Pick a tree and squat [unless you're a boy, then just stand anywhere and pee]. So we all left the group [not very far off the trail] to find a place to squat. As we're doing this, a whole group of children come down the trail. We could see them from where we were...and hopefully they couldn't see us. Indecent exposure to minors, much?? Just kidding. It wasn't that severe. They probably weren't as young as I remember. But it could have been embarrassing. For everyone involved. But when you haven't showered for a week and you're wearing a baseball cap and carrying a million bottles of water in a backpack as you hike for miles every day, you begin to take on a different life view. Everyone is your friend out there [Seriously. In the NPs, everyone was so friendly. It was like the universe became very tiny and revolved around you and the people camping nearby. It also helps that there were almost no electronics anywhere.]
Wow, long tangent. Back to my trail running. As I ran the trail, I had to cross one busy street in the middle of my run. I waited for my "walking" sign on the way out but on the way back, I grew impatient and crossed when traffic was slow. I swear, while I was crossing there was a crazy beeping noise and I expected some bike cop to ride up to me and give me a ticket for crossing before the sign told me I could. I expected this for almost a mile. No bike cop ever came. Maybe they got a picture of me crossing and will mail me a ticket. Good luck finding me, suckas! There's no way they'll recognize me on my driver's license from a picture of me running....oh, wait. I look EXACTLY the same. When I got my driver's license, I was 16 and had just come from basketball practice. They made me take my glasses off and my hair was pulled back. That's exactly how I looked while running yesterday. Sweaty, ponytail, and contacts. SHOOT. AND I still get mistaken for a 16 year old. Good new is that I get a BRAND NEW ID in November! It will be the first time my license expires EVER and a chance for a NEW PICTURE. After SEVEN years of this horrible picture. I hide my ID behind my old college ID because it's better that way. I don't open up my wallet every day and start crying because of the hideous face staring back at me, unfocused [I'm sure my eyes aren't focused in that pic because they took my GLASSES so I couldn't see what I was looking at]. The day I originally went to get my license, I had just been involved in a million sports pictures (basketball, JV volleyball, Varsity volleyball and softball) so my hair was all did and I looked presentable. But I didn't have all my paperwork. So I had to come back later, on a day when I played basketball, and take that awful picture that has haunted me for seven years. It got worse when I turned 21 because then you get CARDED and pull out your ID more than you ever thought possible. And it looks AWFUL. And it's from Texas so everyone in Nebraska has to STARE at it for five minutes to find the birth date. And in Missouri, they have to stare, too, but they don't card as often.
The moral of this whole post, actually, is that if you workout: DON'T EVER STOP. I did a plyometric workout the other day, the day before my first outdoor run in 8 months, and I have hurt so badly ever since. Yesterday my upper body hurt so badly I couldn't take a full breath so I spent the day with the hyperventilating yawns. Today my legs hurt so bad that I want to cry every time I sit on a toilet...or move a leg. I'm supposed to go a party tonight...I don't know how I will survive. All I want to do is knock myself out with some kind of pain or sleeping drug and dream my painful soreness away. I can't remember hurting this bad ever before. Though, I'm sure it happened sometime in basketball conditioning or college track. Lesson learned: I will never let any significant time come between me and hard workouts. Not any more than a week. I don't even know if I'm sore from my run because it probably just added onto my previous soreness. I thought running would actually make me feel better...but it's worse. But I'm not going to stop. Since I hurt so bad anyway, even when I'm not moving, I might as well keep running and get my lungs in shape while my body screams at me.
April 28, 2011
Where in the world did Alicia spend Easter?
My Easter consisted of dyed eggs, crackers from 2007, an intoxicated bout of "hanger," a Chihuahua [which I always need the help of Dictionary.com to spell], the cutest Easter basket, Skip-Bo, and lamb.
Because I don't have any local family one of my best friends Katie invited me to spend Easter with her here in St. Louis, her husband, and her in-laws. I love all of those people, so I agreed. Then I remembered that I volunteer at the WRC on Sunday mornings so I'd have to go to that first, in case a bunch of people took off for Easter. Then I would wander my way north to her in-laws' house [which is right next to Katie's house].
Well, the WRC actually had a handful of volunteers so after taking care of all the box turtles and the adult geese, I felt that it would be okay if I took off. [I'd forgotten to wear deodorant anyway and the hot and humid turtle room had set off my BO - so it was for the best, even in a place that can smell of goose poo, which I probably had on my shoes.] So I got out of there around 11:30 or so, and I didn't think I'd get out before 2pm when I didn't realize volunteers would be aplenty. [Ok, not aplenty, but more than the previous week when I cleaned enclosures of and fed EVERY SINGLE ANIMAL except the baby squirrels, even the three geese with three geese's worth of poo.] I ran home to shower and get ready. Then I finished up an X-Files episode I'd started the night before. Then I took off for the Endorfs' house.
It was pouring rain, which meant nothing except that I had to maneuver my way around very slow St. Louisans to maintain the speed limit.
I got to their street and rang Katie and Paul's doorbell and knocked. When there was no answer I Katie and Paul weren't over there so none of us knew where they actually were. I'd texted and called Katie a few times to let her know I was on my way and such and hadn't received any responses. Right as I walked into Dave and Kathy's Katie called me and said that she and Paul and had been taking a nap and that they had hardly heard me knocking. While I was on the phone I took part in the most awkward hug known to mankind. Kathy, who is shorter than me, hugged me, but I went in on the side I was holdin gthe phone and my head went the wrong way so I had to kind of look up and it was awkward...but not awkward. It probably just looked crazy awkward.
So I stayed with Kathy and Dave, waiting for Katie and Paul to make their way over. I helped stir some chocolate pudding and then I helped Kathy dye some eggs she drew on. I was in the middle of the egg process when Katie and Paul finally showed up.
While we waited for the food to get done we played some Skip-Bo. I am not a competitive person (MOST of the time, unless it's something I think I'm good at) AND I was hungry...so I was a bit crabby. Paul and Dave are crazy competitive and loud and obnoxious in games and I just tuned them out...which meant I just zoned during the game unless it was my turn. I was trying to control my hanger, while battling tipsiness from a couple of beers. After one game of Skip-Bo, during which Kathy had prepped the lamb leg and put it in the oven, Katie and I ran over to her house so she could change her contacts and we could wolf down a snack.
When we got back all five of us played another round of Skip-Bo and Kathy busted out some cheese and crackers. While I was eating these crackers I thought they tasted funny...but I was so hungry that I just covered them up with cheese and kept eating, as did everyone else. After the game (I won) and most of the crackers were gone, Kathy asked about how they tasted, if we thought they tasted funny. We all agreed they did taste weird and Dave checked the box: the date said 2007. Yum. Then I found some leftover chips in my sweater pocked from when Katie and I stuffed our faces at her house.
While we were playing games and eating Dave had his "playlist" going on the stereo and I commented on its awesomeness probably a million times. It was that good. I was in love with almost EVERY song! My favorite that came on was Mambo #5! No one plays that song..EVER! It's my all time favorite one hit wonder. 7th grade, baby!!
After our dinner of lamb, potatoes and broccoli salad, we went for a walk in the beautiful park right across the street. We walked the dogs through puddles. The Chihuahua, Luna, would sprint ahead, with her tiny little legs straight out. It was hilarious to watch. At one point the dogs chased a poor squirrel up a tree, where it proceeded to jump to an adjacent tree and the fling itelf off the tree as far as it could, landing with a THUMP on the ground. It hauled its butt across the trail and climbed another unreachable tree. All the while everyone is laughing at the poor squirrel's expense. Jerks. [This is the family that kills squirrels in the hundreds every year because they chew up the outdoor furniture. Squirrel massacres.]
Then we opened our Easter baskets. I got an AWESOME bucket from Katie [a partial going-away gift] and a sweet scarf from Kathy [from Charming Charlie, the best accessory store on the planet]. Katie gave me this little bird necklace that I had been eyeing every time she made me walk through a department store.
Overall, wonderful experience. My last few Easters have been so pleasant. With family in Texas last year, with my best friend's family not far from our college my senior year...and beyond that I lost track. So many years, so many places. So many friends. This year I appreciate the fact that the Endorfs took me in and treated me just like family. It was perfect! [Except for one minor hangry episode.]
I'm not one of those people who has to go "home" to family for every holiday. I don't have to go to them for most holidays. I grew up spending holidays with my immediate family and my parents' best friend from college (who is also my Godfather) and his wife. They spent most holidays with us, from Thanksgiving to Christmas to Easter, and most birthdays. So I expected to be able to spend holidays with local friends...and I have found out that's not how it works in this real world. Many people travel back to their families or have their families visit them. My family and I can't always afford that. So I have spent the last couple of Christmases alone (with a friend either a bit on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day - so not 100% alone).
I could drone on and on about where I spent the holidays for the last 5-6 years, but that's not interesting. Let's just say they've been spent all over the country with a variety of college friends and family members. Easters, Thanksgivings, Christmases, and spring breaks. From California to Florida, Minnesota to Texas, and everywhere in between. I'm like a gypsy.
Because I don't have any local family one of my best friends Katie invited me to spend Easter with her here in St. Louis, her husband, and her in-laws. I love all of those people, so I agreed. Then I remembered that I volunteer at the WRC on Sunday mornings so I'd have to go to that first, in case a bunch of people took off for Easter. Then I would wander my way north to her in-laws' house [which is right next to Katie's house].
Well, the WRC actually had a handful of volunteers so after taking care of all the box turtles and the adult geese, I felt that it would be okay if I took off. [I'd forgotten to wear deodorant anyway and the hot and humid turtle room had set off my BO - so it was for the best, even in a place that can smell of goose poo, which I probably had on my shoes.] So I got out of there around 11:30 or so, and I didn't think I'd get out before 2pm when I didn't realize volunteers would be aplenty. [Ok, not aplenty, but more than the previous week when I cleaned enclosures of and fed EVERY SINGLE ANIMAL except the baby squirrels, even the three geese with three geese's worth of poo.] I ran home to shower and get ready. Then I finished up an X-Files episode I'd started the night before. Then I took off for the Endorfs' house.
It was pouring rain, which meant nothing except that I had to maneuver my way around very slow St. Louisans to maintain the speed limit.
I got to their street and rang Katie and Paul's doorbell and knocked. When there was no answer I Katie and Paul weren't over there so none of us knew where they actually were. I'd texted and called Katie a few times to let her know I was on my way and such and hadn't received any responses. Right as I walked into Dave and Kathy's Katie called me and said that she and Paul and had been taking a nap and that they had hardly heard me knocking. While I was on the phone I took part in the most awkward hug known to mankind. Kathy, who is shorter than me, hugged me, but I went in on the side I was holdin gthe phone and my head went the wrong way so I had to kind of look up and it was awkward...but not awkward. It probably just looked crazy awkward.
So I stayed with Kathy and Dave, waiting for Katie and Paul to make their way over. I helped stir some chocolate pudding and then I helped Kathy dye some eggs she drew on. I was in the middle of the egg process when Katie and Paul finally showed up.
While we waited for the food to get done we played some Skip-Bo. I am not a competitive person (MOST of the time, unless it's something I think I'm good at) AND I was hungry...so I was a bit crabby. Paul and Dave are crazy competitive and loud and obnoxious in games and I just tuned them out...which meant I just zoned during the game unless it was my turn. I was trying to control my hanger, while battling tipsiness from a couple of beers. After one game of Skip-Bo, during which Kathy had prepped the lamb leg and put it in the oven, Katie and I ran over to her house so she could change her contacts and we could wolf down a snack.
When we got back all five of us played another round of Skip-Bo and Kathy busted out some cheese and crackers. While I was eating these crackers I thought they tasted funny...but I was so hungry that I just covered them up with cheese and kept eating, as did everyone else. After the game (I won) and most of the crackers were gone, Kathy asked about how they tasted, if we thought they tasted funny. We all agreed they did taste weird and Dave checked the box: the date said 2007. Yum. Then I found some leftover chips in my sweater pocked from when Katie and I stuffed our faces at her house.
While we were playing games and eating Dave had his "playlist" going on the stereo and I commented on its awesomeness probably a million times. It was that good. I was in love with almost EVERY song! My favorite that came on was Mambo #5! No one plays that song..EVER! It's my all time favorite one hit wonder. 7th grade, baby!!
After our dinner of lamb, potatoes and broccoli salad, we went for a walk in the beautiful park right across the street. We walked the dogs through puddles. The Chihuahua, Luna, would sprint ahead, with her tiny little legs straight out. It was hilarious to watch. At one point the dogs chased a poor squirrel up a tree, where it proceeded to jump to an adjacent tree and the fling itelf off the tree as far as it could, landing with a THUMP on the ground. It hauled its butt across the trail and climbed another unreachable tree. All the while everyone is laughing at the poor squirrel's expense. Jerks. [This is the family that kills squirrels in the hundreds every year because they chew up the outdoor furniture. Squirrel massacres.]
Then we opened our Easter baskets. I got an AWESOME bucket from Katie [a partial going-away gift] and a sweet scarf from Kathy [from Charming Charlie, the best accessory store on the planet]. Katie gave me this little bird necklace that I had been eyeing every time she made me walk through a department store.
Overall, wonderful experience. My last few Easters have been so pleasant. With family in Texas last year, with my best friend's family not far from our college my senior year...and beyond that I lost track. So many years, so many places. So many friends. This year I appreciate the fact that the Endorfs took me in and treated me just like family. It was perfect! [Except for one minor hangry episode.]
I'm not one of those people who has to go "home" to family for every holiday. I don't have to go to them for most holidays. I grew up spending holidays with my immediate family and my parents' best friend from college (who is also my Godfather) and his wife. They spent most holidays with us, from Thanksgiving to Christmas to Easter, and most birthdays. So I expected to be able to spend holidays with local friends...and I have found out that's not how it works in this real world. Many people travel back to their families or have their families visit them. My family and I can't always afford that. So I have spent the last couple of Christmases alone (with a friend either a bit on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day - so not 100% alone).
I could drone on and on about where I spent the holidays for the last 5-6 years, but that's not interesting. Let's just say they've been spent all over the country with a variety of college friends and family members. Easters, Thanksgivings, Christmases, and spring breaks. From California to Florida, Minnesota to Texas, and everywhere in between. I'm like a gypsy.
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