INTRUDER ALERT!! INTRUDER ALERT!!

Kids, there has been a major security breach here at So.Much.Fun. and I'm not sure how it happened.

Actually that is a lie.  I know EXACTLY how it happened.  But if I tell you I'll be memorializing the act and giving the intruder attention which, if I know this intruder at all, and I do (or did) know him a bit, I suspect that is exactly what he wants.  But its my blog, and I'll do what I want so ... let me start over.

TAKE 2.

Kids, there has been a major security breach here at So.Much.Fun.  The perimeter has been breached and Ryan has found the blog.  Ryan?  Yes, Ryan ... and Ryan = 2x.  2x=Ryan.  So yeah, you see the problem.

I obviously recognized this as a possibility when Dave started his blog and I left comments on it.  But, I thought I was safe for awhile because:

1.  2x doesn't really seem like the blog reading type.

2.  Even if he did read Dave's blog out of some sort of moral obligation I didn't think he'd read the comments. 

3.  Even if he did read the comments, i hoped (with not much optimism) that he wouldn't put K.Michele together with ME and click on it.  This was a stretch ... but I was going with it.

Because ... back when Dave first learned about my blog, I did a bit of self censorship and moved some posts to drafts.  In the end, I came back to it being MY BLOG and decided I didn't need or want to self-censor, particularly with the nick names - I thought I was protecting the innocent well enough so I re-posted all the posts.

When my good friend Dave linked directly to my post mocking his lack of swimming ability I knew that the perimeter was significantly less secure than it had been.  I again considered draft mode BUT, as I said, I knew 2x a bit (once) and figured that:

1.  As soon as he found this site, he'd want to either (a) mock me for it and/0r (b) let me know that he knew that I had a blog.

2.  He'd want to take care of (1) before reading all the back posts ... meaning that if I moved fast I'd have time to delete.

Well, kids I was right about (1) wrong about (2).  RYAN: WHEN DID YOU LEARN SUCH SELF CONTROL???  There was a 24 hour lag between 2x finding the blog and me knowing he found the blog ... so what was written was read.  Whatever.  Its not really that big of a deal.  I mean, I wear my emotions on my face, I'm sure what I wrote wasn't that much of a surprise.  And I did protect the innocent (Unlike someone who once referred to 2x on their blog by his first and LAST NAME which meant that if you googled  it got picked up.  Not that I EVER google exs.  But hypothetically if I had googled I would have found this blog and it would have referenced 2x and his 'new lady.'  And hypothetically, take it from me that if you read on a random blog that your recently exed ex has a 'new lady' it kind of makes you throw up in our mouth a little bit. Or I think it would.  Hypothetically.).   

Anyway, I digress.  The situation is what it is now.  The blog has been found and what is written is read.  And now there is just one more thing to do ... give Ryan a new nickname (per his request).  I don't anticipate him having many more cameos on this blog but I will nonetheless give him a new name.  The initial one's I've come up with were inappropriate for a public, pseudo family friendly blog (and, er, that his girlfriend might read ... talk about security breach! HA!).  So, I'm opening it up to my friendly blog readers ... suggestions are welcome.

But, because I fear there will be no suggestions (which will be disappointing, Dave), I'm going to go with RP for now.

So, for those of you paying attention at home, until further notice:

2x=Ryan=RP.

There.  Now that we've got this security situation under control, you are all free to go about your weekends.  And I, having finally gotten 12 hours of sleep, am going to work out for a million hours to make up for this week's slacking.  Happy Saturday;) 

The next thing I write will be happy, I swear.

I'm tired. Mentally and physically tired. And emotional too. A great combination. Sunday we got home from grandma's around 10:30 and I went to bed at midnight. Monday I couldn't get up to workout and worked out for 1:30 after I got home from work. At nine. And then I made dinner. Tuesday a hockey game got out at the same time as my class and I got home at 11. Last night, our local bar that is closing wouldn't let me in, I got home form dinner and NOT going to the bar at 10 and decided to get in my workout. I finished around 11:30.

So its not surprising that I'm tired, physically or mentally really.

This time of year I always think back four years to when this Friday was April fool's day and my sister pranked me by saying she was pregnant. Except she almost gave me a heart attack and I didn't talk to her for 3 days. That Saturday two of my friends met and hit it off. The first weekend of this month they got engaged. And I only found out today because a third friend (who got married in Costa Rica last year) emailed to announce that he and his wife are expecting a baby so there'd be a one year old at the wedding of the other two friends that got engaged earlier this month. To find out like that made me sad. I know that people fall in love and weed out the relationships that don't matter as much. But you know what? If I had known I wasn't going to matter I wouldn't have given her subway directions to every single interview she went on that fall. I wouldn't have snuck out of work to rehash the interviews with her. I wouldn't have been there. Except I know that is a lie. I'm always there and even if I knew then what I know now, it doesn't mean that I would have mis-directed her to the 1&9. It just makes me sad, that they decided that they just didn't want to be my friend anymore. I think I'm pretty cool. Not a bad person to be friends with ... So yeah, imagine how I react when I find out that ex-boyfriends are getting married. Or when 'real' relationship ends.

And I realize that its silly to be this upset over something that matters so little in the grand scheme of things. So I must be mentally tired. Which is why I am leaving shortly to go shopping. And my next post will be happy. Really. I swear.

What I would have written ...

This is the picture that I took on Saturday for the blog I intended to write last night.  I wanted to call it 'Traditions' and I would have told you about Great-Aunt Angie and how she used to make this pie for seemingly the whole world.  I can remember the first year that Aunt Angie decided that all the pies were just too much and gave my grandmother, her sister, half a pie which left us with barely a bite each.  I guess, when you see 80 come and go, pie for the extended family is a bit much.

I was going to tell you how the year after the year that we only had half a pie, I started a movement for the next generation to learn the recipe.  I was swamped at work, and despite working till early that Saturday morning, made my way to Brooklyn where it turned out, I was the only one of the next generation not to bale.  I didn't really consider being alone with Aunt Angie until, upon my arrival, she gave me the itinerary:  first, we'll have a muffin and some coffee, then we'll make the dough, then we'll eat lunch while the dough sits, then we'll make the pies and then, if you want, we can have dinner.  Um, ok?  So, I'm spending 12 hours with Great Aunt Angie??? I actually made it home for dinner, but the pie IS a day long affair.  I understood why she hesitated to make them for everyone and their brother (literally) because rolling the dough is HARD.

The Easter after my lesson, I made 6 pies all by myself.  It took 6 hours and there was flour EVERYWHERE.  Last year my friend Carrie helped me ... it still took 6 hours but the flour was more contained and it was more fun.  This year, as evidenced by the picture, there were more pies.  When I was waiting at the deli for the supplies to be sliced, the deli guy asked me "what I needed all this stuff for."  When I told him, he said "I didn't think people of your generation did this."  

In the blog I intended to write, I would have told you how I thought back to my day with Aunt Angie and realized that maybe people of my generation don't make pie.  But pie on Easter is a tradition and I want to keep it up ... this year, Carrie and Lisa came over and they each brought a rolling pin.  We ate sushi and drank wine and rolled three pies at a time.  It only took 2.5 hours.  I wanted to sum up with my modern take on the tradition - you don't have to be a stereotypical little old Italian lady to make pie, it doesn't have to take days and days of back breaking dough making, it can be three friends, three rolling pins, some wine, spicy tuna rolls and good conversation.  It can be fun.  And you CAN get pies on Easter ....

Unless, when the phone rings Easter morning its not Grandma asking when you are leaving and when she should put the water for the ravioli on.  Instead its Grandpa saying that Grandma fell and dislocated her shoulder, he called 911 and they're at the hospital.  When they're finally home you begin the hour drive and when you get there you realize that the situation is a disaster.  In one stir of the pot they went from getting by to not.  And in our world of easy fixes, this situation does not have one.  But you realize that even the hard fixes can't happen on Easter night so you put the water on for the ravioli because you have to eat.  And then you realize that you left the pie at home.

Pre Workout Meal (aka, I hope my coach doesn't read this)

Monday was St. Patrick's Day and my mom was marching in the parade with some of her college roommates.  After the parade they were meeting at a bar and we were all invited.  Originally I said no, I had to work and they were meeting at 3 and probably wouldn't be out too late.  Not to mention that I had a swim workout on tap for that evening.  But then it was a nice day, and work wasn't too busy and, well, its not like I'm planning on winning the triathlon ...

So, at 6:30 I was home having had two beers and half a corned beef sandwich.  I was at a loss.  What do people who get home at 6:30 do with themselves (I usually don't get home till 8 and if I workout after work its much later)??  Taking advantage of situation I rested (didn't nap per se, just rested) did some laundry and then figured I may as well head to the pool for the 9pm lap swim.  I have to admit that I was dreading it.  Obviously there was the beer, and the fact that it was scheduled to take an hour and fifteen minutes and I couldn't start till 9 (and my coach has this uncanny ability to know EXACTLY how long something is going to take) but the real issue was that the main set was 7 300s broken by 100 (so you swim 100 yards, rest 10 second, swim 100 yards, rest 10 second, swim 100 yards, rest one minute.  repeat.  seven times).  In my mind that is 21 100s (NOT the way to think of it, btw) and that is mind numbing torture.

But I went, and did it.  And it wasn't that bad.  In fact, it was rather good.  The 100s were all within 10 second of each other (not fast per se, but consistent) and looking forward to the minute rest made the set less tedious.  And the best part?  It only took an hour.  And my coach KNOWS how long it should take.  So the ONLY option here is that I was going super fast.

I think this means that its my obligation as a triathlete to consume two pints of Guinness and half a corned beef sandwich before every event and long training session.  So Sara, I hope you don't mind taking over the driving duties for the races we're doing together;)

Running by the Numbers

ALOT - The number of minutes I spent in the hot shower after my run and the amount of my sadness when I realized that my margarita flavored cliff blocks were just lemon/lime.

10 - The number of miles I ran (actually it was 9.5, but this is my blog, I can round).

9 - The number of minutes left in my run when I decided I might die and was really glad I had my id bracelet on.  This is also when I was outside my boss' apartment complex.  Could have been awkward.

8 - The number of minutes after I finished my run that the sun came out.

7 - The number of minutes left in my run when I decided that I could not wait 7 more minutes to stop and stretch my hip flexors.

6 - The number of cliff blocks I ate.

5 - The number of times I took my long sleeved shirt off/on.

4 - The number of people that beeped, whistled or otherwise talked to me (one guy was just asking for directions).  I know that I don't look stellar when running with a fuel belt, why highlight the fact by beeping/whistling?

3 - The number of times I ran by my apartment. Talk about will power.

2 - The number of times I crossed the light rail tracks and the number of times a light rail was coming.

1 -The number of bags of random abandoned oranges I saw on the ground.

Also, Hammer Gel?  SO MUCH BETTER than gu/powergel.  Try it.  You'll thank me;)

my side of the line (aka, the irish oak)

now i'll admit that i was empowered by the knowledge that you were forbidden to see me.

but then, i was drunk on the fact that you wanted to see me.  and couldn't.

left to our own devices, we would have enforced the edict by dividing the city into quadrants.  each taking a north, a south, an east and a west.

high on the thought of passing at the axis.

but to plan as such, would have defied the edict.

and we were visitors in the familiar midwest city.  at the mercy of our hosts.

so you sent your messenger with your coordinates.  and i abided.  i did not kill the messenger.  i established a perimeter. i vowed to stay away.

i did my part.  and went to the local corner bar.  stayed on my side of the line.

in this game, you are the straight laced rule follower and i am the emotional wild card.  if i was in place, we should have been in compliance.

so it never occurred to me, that if while drinking my drinks in the front window booth i had yelled out your name, you would have heard.

despite your deviation from the plan, we abided by the edict until our groups tired of the night at the exact same time.

to say that my heart did not skip a beat and that my world did not spin would be to lie.

we embraced and muttered speechless mutterings.  we planned our escape to cover up the violation.

when i exited you looked right through me.

i realized then that i was empowered by the knowledge that you were forbidden to see me.

the fact that you wanted to see me but couldn't, or wouldn't, was heart wrenchingly crushing.

but i come back to the irony of us sharing drinks, me in the front bar, you in the back.  despite the edict.

and then, if we were afforded one more conversation i would have used it to discuss the winds of fate that led us there.  i would have expected our theories to be thrilling, captivating, intellectual.

but now, if we were afforded one more conversation, i might decline for fear that without the enchantment it would be pedestrian.  a disappointment. 

There's gonna be a show at the pool tonight.

Don't be late.

In a rush this morning (as every morning, more on my morning issues later. if you're lucky), I couldn't find a 'new' bathing suit and grabbed the see through one. And I didn't shave my legs. And I have to swim tonight.

And you thought Friday night's at the engineering college's pool were lame. Well, that's about to change!

Bacon Doesn't Always Make it Better

I have a book of 30 minute recipes that I've been pretty good about making since the new year.  I haven't repeated a recipe yet and I've made some pretty good things (although, apparently, none that I would want to repeat).  Anyway, tonight's menu included breaded turkey cutlets (I used chicken) and brussels sprouts with bacon and dried cranberries.  I LOVE bacon and cranberries and can even see the two together so I thought I might like the brussels sprouts thrown in there.  Yeah, not so much.  I don't loathe them, but I would never choose them and the bacon cranberry mix was good but didn't really mask the sprouts.

Speaking of food, I'm sure there are some out there that wish they had this problem, but ALL OF MY CLOTHES ARE TOO BIG.  Its becoming a serous.  I'm down to my marathon shape and my work clothes from my marathon days are long gone - I thought I had permanently gone up a size so I phased them out for clothes a size bigger.  So now I have newish clothes that are HUGE.  Like I almost don't need to unbutton my pants to take them off big.  It looks silly but I don't really want to re-replace all my work clothes.  Thoughts?  Its not like I'm not eating (I actually have only lost a few pounds, more a problem of inches).  Ice cream maybe?? What bout beer?  And do we think this is permanent?  Should I by new clothes or ride it out?  Can I keep up this intensity of activity for ever?

Reason No. 846 Why I am an idiot ...

I've been having some issues with my left eye and since I kind of like my left eye I finally called the doctor.  This is how it went:

Receptionist:  May I help you?

Me:  Yes.  I have one eye that is really red and itchy.  Err.  What I mean to say is that one of my two eyes, is really red and itchy.

Brilliant.  But you kind have to wonder if they would have seen me earlier if I hadn't rephrased my issue.

And Sara, it was a reference to your governor.  Not to me, silly!

At least I got a mug (and other random thoughts) ...

The Indoor Tri Championships were Sunday and every participant got a travel mug.  I was seriously very excited about this ... I love traveling with beverages and sometimes you want those beverages to be both hot and not in a plastic cup.  And those mugs are expensive and tend to break, so I take them free when I can.  Not to mention the intimidation factor when I role into the Half IM carrying that mug (it says Indoor Tri Championship on it).  Beyond the mug, the event was fun, I biked a bit faster but ran and swam EXACTLY THE SAME as I did in November.  Considering I was sick, I guess this is okay.  I also didn't come in last, which is always an added bonus:)

I also want to add that its a bit weird, especially if you're in college, to show up to an indoor tri with a personal cheer leader who stands behind you and yells "GO, YOU CAN DO IT!" for 20 minutes while you run on a TREADMILL.  Shouldn't they have been recovering from a wild night out??

In other news, and apropos of nothing, I think we all have people that touch us, that we'll never forget, that we hope to always count as friends (although, it won't always work out that way), that we will always (although, we wish we didn't) compare our boyfriends and mentors to.  They are the truly good ones, the ones we'd do anything for without blinking an eye, the ones we can talk to (verbally or in email) for hours on end ... even if we haven't spoken in weeks or months, the ones we know will go places and do things.  For me, alot of these people are out of sight and sometimes out of mind.  But today, after too long, I was emailing with my good friend Matt (who used to read this blog but doesn't anymore ... something about a wife and daughter keeping him busy, not sure I buy it ... ha, ha) and we were discussing how through our DECADE LONG (dear Lord, how have I had decade long friendships with people I met in college???) friendship we've never had a conversation on the phone.  And yes, thats weird, but I'm grateful for this technological age we live in.  Through email and blogs we (if we're lucky) get to keep up with the people that matter, the good ones, in busy times when we might not otherwise make the effort.  

So while I marveled at the technological age in which we live, I also marveled at the amazing and just plain old solid people that I've been fortunate enough to meet and count among my friends.  Single in the city as I am, I don't have as much in common with a lot of these friends like I once did, maybe someday I'll have a gaggle of kids and a husband and we'll all go on family vacations, but if it doesn't work out like that I think that we'll still remain friends, connected by shared values and experiences.  Many of these experiences have been thrilling and eye opening while others have left me reeling, wondering if I was on track, wondering if I was doing anything that mattered, gasping for air, sobbing, heart broken, lonely but I've learned from them all (maybe more from the sobbing lonely ones than from the thrills) and I don't regret and wouldn't give up a single second of the time I've spent with these friends.  They are special and I consider myself blessed.

Finally, apropos of even less, what goes through your head when you get the call telling you that a wire tap has picked up on your plans to fraternize with a woman for hire?  And who knew that you were allowed to keep accounts with these women so that you could get services with your credit??

Sleep tight, kiddies.