Marathon Training: Week 6

This was the first week I really did poorly with my running. I've run slow and I've had days where I walked some, but this week, laziness reached an all-time high. I only ran twice this week, making this week's total mileage only 8 miles. Quite the drop from last week's 17.

Today I did my long run of 6 miles, regardless of the runs I missed this week. As I got going, I found that my heart rate monitor was not working quite right. It started out okay, climbing into the 150-160 range, and then it lost the connection. When it came back, it said my heart rate was 128 which immediately jumped to 228. So, I quit looking at it. I have a tendency to start out too fast, and then I use that monitor as a speed limiter, but now without the limiter, it was interesting to see how I did. I still started out too fast, but I lasted at that speed for a little over 4 miles. Then I cratered, and ran less than 3/4 of the last two miles. Overall, I finished in about the total time that I should have, so that gives you an idea of how quickly I was going at first. However, I have to learn to read my body, rather than relying on a digital readout, so this was a good experience from that perspective.

Ultimately, though, it was a hard run because I skipped way too many runs this week. Here are some of the excuses I used with myself to get out of running.

I'm tired. This one is actually relatively legit. You try to be rested when your husband comes home between 2 and 4 in the morning and then wants to talk about his day for a while. The alarm clock comes early on those days.

I'm dehydrated. Also probably true, but not that hard to do something about it.

I need to reread the form chapter. I have felt that I could probably get some good insights for my form runs by rereading that chapter, but that's no reason to not run them the way I have been so far. Or just reread the chapter.

My legs are sore. Actually getting out and running makes this go away.

I woke up too late. Wah. This leads to...

I'll run tonight instead. Ha! We all know that won't happen. If I don't run in the morning the afternoons are even harder, because of...

It's hot outside. This is mostly how I convinced myself out of those afternoon runs when I didn't run that morning.

Better get back out there this week and run past the excuses. Next week has to be better.

Warning Signs Needed

For the last few months, my husband has been complaining about his job. He doesn't enjoy it anymore and he hates his boss and he has no freedom to do his work, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. This attitude has also affected his work, and people in his office have said things that sound like they know he's not going to last much longer, either. Just to go with that, though, about every other day for a while there he kept coming home saying he almost quit.

In these past few weeks, the project they've been working on all year is coming to completion. Please don't ask me to explain the project. It's something necessary in astronomy-land, and that will just have to be enough information. He and a handful of other folks on the project have been working increasing numbers of hours to try and make last Monday's deadline, which they didn't. He's been going to work between 9 and 10am, and coming home between 2 and 4am. Every day. Trying to get this thing done. And things are not going well.

So after a week of this, and an increasingly tired husband and an increasingly tired Heather (it's hard to sleep when you don't know when your husband is coming home), he calls me at work yesterday afternoon.

Hubby> What are your plans tonight?
Heather> I thought I'd help a friend unpack some stuff after moving. Why? What's up?
Hubby> Well...I don't have to work tonight. Or tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. Can I cook you dinner or something?
Heather> Really? Um...sure...dinner would be nice. What's going on?
Hubby> I gotta go pack up my things and go home. See you tonight!
(Click.)

I don't know how you interpret a call like that, but I will tell you he sounded forcibly cheery, and he never calls me at work. I was sure he no longer had a job. But I had to know whether he quit or whether his employer decided he was done. It took me an hour to get back in touch with him. Apparently, the project was scrapped, not his job. Ack! Where was my Crazy Husband Warning Sign?

Odd Sounds

I woke up this morning to a very odd sound -- thunder. I got up to watch a bit of lightning before the rain started. Lightning is so pretty, and it's such an awe-inspiring force. After the light and sound show lasted for a few minutes, the rain started. And not that annoying kind of rain that's really too hard and can't get into the dirt before it drains away and then stops after 5 minutes. No, this was the kind of drenching rain that makes yard-owners everywhere smile. The kind of slow rain that could last an hour or more, and keep you from having to water the yard for at least a week.

I can't remember the last time we had a really good thunderstorm, but I love it when it does. It smells like heat all stirred up, and just seems cathartic and cleansing. Mmmmmm.... summer rains.

A Retrospective of a Retrospective

Last weekend we celebrated my dad's 25 years as an ordained pastor. His current church had a big dinner with stories and presents and a song their music director wrote that was pretty funny. People from some of his old churches came, too, which was nice. I found that I've been disconnected from my parents' regular church life for so long that I only knew maybe ten people in the room. And five of them were people to whom I'm related.

So for me, the bulk of the evening was me watching the looping slideshow of pictures from my dad's life, basically since my parents were married (since those are the pictures my mom had for them to use). As the first child, there are lots of pictures with me in them, quite a few less for my sister, and then it picks back up a bit for pictures of the baby sister. It must be one of those phenomena that when you have more people in the family that are capable of using a camera, it cancels out birth order in the standard decline in the number of pictures for each subsequent child. Regardless, I really enjoyed watching pictures of my family's life progressing from the mid-seventies when my parents were these cute little hippies. My dad had long curly hair, and he was slim back then. My mom also had long hair, and I'm sure there were pictures where she wasn't wearing a bra, despite the number of times she says she didn't participate in that particular social protest. Then there's pictures of me, and I was an awfully cute baby. And then my parents began to turn into the roly-poly folks they are now. I did this to them, you see.

Anyway, that was the part that was fun for me. Reminiscing about when times were good and when times were really not so good, but looking at how life progresses through pictures, and what kinds of things those pictures cause a person to remember. Oh, and laughter at my dad's expense. That's always fun.

Marathon Training: Week 5

This was a tough week for me for running. There were two days when I just didn't want to get up and run. I'm glad I did, and feel better for it, but it became apparent how much harder this week was than last week's easy set of runs. I ended up skipping one of the two optional runs, and that made me a bit sad. Regardless, I did run seventeen miles this week, which is certainly a Heather-record. Never ran that much in so few days. Maybe 17 days, but not 7.

The thing I noticed most during my runs this week was that trash day is a really yucky day to run. Previously, I hadn't been running in neighborhoods as much as I am now, and the morning I had to run by 100s of trash cans made me want to puke more than any of my runs come anywhere close to doing. Ick.

Note to self: Run at the gym or around the track on trash day. Or drive somewhere that has a different trash day than my neighborhood.

Also, it's amazing how big everyone's trash cans really are. We have the smallest bin you can get from the city, and I can safely say it is not a popular size in our area. There were probably fifteen to twenty of the big gray ones for every one little green one. In other areas, they might even use the gigantic brown ones, but I didn't see any of those during this week's Run With the Trash.

Numbers

I love numbers. It's geeky and silly, but I love to think about numbers and patterns and do math in my head.

When my car reached mileage of 123456, I stopped on the side of the road and admired it. If I'd had a camera I'd've taken a picture. I notice odometer readings of 141414 and 112358 and ... you get the picture.

I had long decided that 27 was the best birthday, it being the most recent cubic birthday. It'll be a while till I get to the next one (64), and virtually impossible to get to the one after that (125). Of course, 30 is 3 cubed plus 3.

I stand in my bathroom and multiply lengths and widths to figure out how many tiles there are. I estimate my grocery bill as I put things in the basket, calculating the appropriate tax as I go along. When I go on a road trip, I figure out my MPG in my head and my average speed. I also like to calculate how many minutes to the next town based on my estimated speed, and see how close I get.

It started in highschool, when I was on the Texaco Challenge team, and had to learn lots of number sense types of tricks in order to do math in my head quickly. Things like 23 x 27 = 621 because 25 squared is 625 (tens digit (2) times one bigger (3) with 25 stuck on the end) minus 2 squared, since each the multiplier and the multiplicand are 2 away from 25. I like multiplying things by 11, too. As an extra measurement of my mathematical geekiness, I lettered in UIL calculator (I lettered in band, too, but we digress into other kinds of geekiness), but rather than get a letter jacket, I convinced my school to purchase my first HP calculator: a 32SII with reverse polish notation which I still have and use.

As school starts back into session this fall, I wonder what student out there is just starting into a love of numbers or words or something else that will stick with them for the rest of their lives. Good luck to all those students and their teachers this year!

Marathon Training: Week 4

This week was a rest week. It's apparently important to rest every fourth week to prevent injury. As part of the plan, I only ran on Monday, Wednesday and today -- nine miles this week. The most interesting thing about that was that on Thursday I woke up and really wanted to run, but I wasn't allowed to. I didn't expect that to happen, and it surprised me. My long run this week was four miles -- the same as last week's. But I ran it three minutes faster this week, basically without trying. My run today felt good, and I was happy to be out on the streets. At the end of the run, I had gotten so into a rhythm that I really didn't want to stop, and walking felt foreign to my legs. If this is how they feel now, how much more will it be like that when I'm running real distances?

I've talked about how you see different things when you're on foot insted of in a car or on a bike. Today I noticed the house with the gutter cleaning advertisement sign in their yard, but no gutters. It was a funny little juxtaposition.

Latest New Toy

My latest new toy is like a heartrate monitor with a GPS in it. I've taken it out running the last couple times I've run, and I love it.

I love it because I can run anywhere and know how far I've gone without driving it in my car afterwards. It's all the information that the treadmill gives you that I really like to have (pace, distance, heartrate), with the flexibility of running on the road. And the road is a much more interesting place to run.

As I've been running on the road, I've found that it's surprising how much detail I see in my surroundings. And, more surprising, there is a ton of detail that is different depending on the direction and side of the street that I'm running on. I just wouldn't have expected it. I sort of thought that since I'm moving so much slower that that would determine how much I'd see, but that perspective thingy does a lot to that.

Anyway, better get out to my morning run.

Birthday Recap

This past week was pretty much consumed with birthday celebrating. Lots of it. Here's the recap.

Monday: Went out to dinner with my best friend here in Austin. We went out for fondue and girly drinks. So we ate and imbibed, and laughed excessively to the probable annoyance of those around us.

Tuesday: My husband and I went for really good steaks, and nice conversation just the two of us. It was very pleasant and relaxing.

Friday: Having nothing to do with my birthday, but adding to the celebratory nature of the week, my department at work went out to the lake for the afternoon and enjoyed barbecue and watersports. I hadn't skied in years, but I had a blast. I left a little early to take Shiner to his new home. Yep, he got adopted, and doesn't live at our humble abode any longer. Afterwards, my family arrived from Dallas, including my crazy sister from North Carolina. She had lined up this giant bogus story about going to a wedding in Bulgaria for the week, and how that was preventing her from coming here, but that's what her plan was all along. We went for Thai food at Titaya's, and even got one of our friends to lose his Thai food virginity (he approves).

Saturday: For brunch, the family all went for dim sum, which is a requirement for my birthday celebrating, since I have history in Hong Kong. Afterwards, my parents went home, leaving my sisters here for the afternoon's party. The inflatable cross between a moon-jump-thingy and a slip-n-slide arrived just after two, so we had some time to test it out before folks showed up. My other half went and picked up the fajitas and was generally awesome about setting up all the food. About 30 people came, and we had a blast. My best friend from college came up from Houston to celebrate, and it was great to see her. There ended up being more kids than I expected, so that was good, because the old people tired out after a few rounds. No serious injuries, which I think means people didn't consume an over-abundance of alcohol. By 9 I was completely wiped out, and we were down to less than ten people at that point. Someone suggested sixth street, and I just groaned. I guess that's me, getting older and not having the stamina I used to have.

Anyway, it was a great week of fun with lots of good company and food. Maybe I just enjoyed it because it was all about me, but regardless, it was good times.

Marathon Training: Week 3

This week was tough to keep up with all the runs with friends buying a house, family coming in town, and way too many days of birthday celebrating. I heard someone say that they always celebrate a birthday week, and I came pretty close for this year's entry.

Regardless, I completed 11 miles, including my 4 mile long run on Saturday. In two of the runs this week I had knee and shin pain, so I think I will need to strengthen the fronts of my shins in the coming weeks. No actual injury -- just crankiness of the legs. My right knee continues to pop periodically, so it's a good thing that the rest week is coming up.

There were two runs this week that were optional that I opted out of, and I'm disappointed as a result. But, I was encouraged that the 4-mile run was straightforward and uneventful, even if I did start out a little too fast.

Thirty is Where It's At

Today I turned 30. This is, apparently, supposed to be a very traumatic day for me, but it has not been that way. I haven't really worried about birthdays and getting older since the 25th, or so. They're just not that big a deal anymore. But, expectations are that these decadal celebrations are monumental, so I'm having the prerequisite week-long celebration, culminating in a party this weekend. And it's a lot of fun, but I don't really feel old. Or wise. Just thought I'd let you know.

Marathon Training: Week 2

Week 1 was pretty non-anything, so I didn't bother to write about it. I walked a lot, since I hadn't run in quite some time. Now, I've just finished Week 2 of the training program, and I feel pretty good about it. Galloway's method suggests short runs through the week, and one long run on the weekend. The long run increases over the weeks, until you have completed marathon distance two weeks before the actual race. He also stresses the need for rest, whether through days off, or through shorter distances when you've done longer ones. He tries to teach you about good running form, and about how to avoid injury. I haven't finished reading it, but I am seeing that this book would make a really good reference book or would be a beneficial re-read every year, or so, of running. You just learn more about yourself as you run, and different parts of the book would resonate during later parts of your running career.

I am learning to run aerobically, but it seems really slow most of the time. It seems that most of my previous running experience was way too fast, leading to why I've never much liked running, and always thought it was significantly harder than any other kind of exercise. As a result, my current running speed is about the same speed as walking. Seems kinda pathetic, but I have to build up the capillary systems to support the blood flow that is necessary for long-distance running, and that's not going to happen if I'm forcing my body to run without enough oxygen.

I just came back from my "long" run for week 2 -- 3 miles in a whopping 44 minutes. Overall for the week, I ran just over 11 miles, but the big thing was the form workout on Wednesday. Did you know there is a specific technique to running properly? I jest a bit, but I think I always assumed each person would settle into what was comfortable and correct for them and their body. Not sure why I thought that, since it's never been true for gymnastics or swimming or anything else I've ever done physically. But running seems so natural, and people have been doing it for so long, that it just seemed innate. Apparently, not for me. I was running leaning way too far back, putting an inordinate amount of strain on my quadriceps to carry me through. Instead, I am working on improving the amount of bounce off my ankles, which makes running feel almost uplifting and fun. It will take some time, because my calves aren't strong enough yet, but this could be a big boon to my overall running enjoyment.

Trying Out New Products

When my sister came to vist in June (the crazy one, not the one that's still in high school), she brought an enormous suitcase for two nights, and we made fun of her. Only slightly kidding, she pointed out that it was lighter when she went back home. See, she's that girl who expects to leave things behind when she visits someone.

This visit, among the things she left were a razor and 4 unused blades. When I called her to get her address to send them back, she assured me she had four others, because she tends to leave them places, and I didn't need to mail it to her. So I didn't. And, being the frugal girl that I am, I decided to use them. I didn't use the blade she had been using -- I used a fresh one. But I figured there was no need for those four brand new blades to go into the trash can, when they'd never done anything to anybody.

So, I present to you, my findings on the Gillette Fusion -- it rocks. I've never had a razor that I could use on a regular basis without cutting myself at least every other time I shaved. I have no idea whether that's the extra blades, or whether there is any benefit of the battery-powered massage action (it feels good, so I've never tried shaving without turning it on). It's just shocking to me that I now haven't cut myself shaving in nearly two months -- and not because I stopped shaving for those two months.

I very seldom am impressed with a product, so I just wanted to share my findings. Take them with a grain of salt, but don't plan to cut yourself on them.

Marathon Prep

This weekend starts my concerted 30-week preparation effort for the marathon in February. I've been reading Galloway's Book on Running, and am learning so much about the appropriate way to train for running races. The book was loaned to me by an accomplished runner in my husband's office who runs 20-miles on a weekend for fun when he's not training for anything. He's done more marathons than I can comprehend, so his recommendation that this is the best running book out there carries some weight.

The basic philosophy is around getting enough rest between runs to allow your body to recover sufficiently to prevent injury. And, as a certified slacker, I'm all about a regimen that specifically includes rest. But, it does take a lot of time, so I need to make sure I stay on the plan, if I want to be ready for a specific day in February. So, as part of my training plan, I will be posting each week about my week of running. I hope I don't bore you all to tears, but it's something I need to do to stay on track.

The Car In the Shop

Last week, my car was in the shop getting some work done on it. As a result, I didn't have my car. I know that sounds obvious, but it's surprising how those things don't all come together in one's brain at the appropriate time.

The first day, my plan was to bike home. So, I packed the bike into my car when I dropped it off at the shop and headed to work. After work, I got on my bike, and rode about a mile before crashing into a curb trying to avoid an approaching car and getting a nice flat tire. So I walked. My husband met me about halfway home and drove me the rest of the way.

With the bike pump in the trunk of the car at the shop, That option was out for the next day. My husband took me to the office the next day, and I took the bus home (or to happy hour, depending on how you look at it). That was an experience. I enjoyed the reminder of why it's fun to people-watch in such a format: the woman reading a book; the two men conversing in an Asian language; the guy who talked to himself the entire ride.

I rode in the next day, too. Here, I found the people-watching at the bus station. People in uniforms trying to get to work, and people who didn't seem to have bathed in weeks. It was incredibly interesting to me, who hasn't ridden a bus since highschool.

As I neared my destination, I actually got off too early, and had to walk a few extra blocks. It was nice to walk a ways, though. It gave me some extra quiet time, some time to think through my day and get to a good place to start into it all.

With a monthly pass costing just $10, I think I'll have to look at riding more often. It's an awfully relaxing way to get to work.

Convicted Person Found Here

I have allowed my appeal period to expire in my traffic ticket case. I received a ticket back in January for running a red light. I'm convinced I didn't run any such light, so, I plead not-guilty, and went to court. The cocky part of me didn't hire a lawyer, and I lost. With a reduced fine, but I lost nonetheless. I believe that may actually have been the most stressful situation in my entire life. It's taken me a month to even post about it, for goodness sake. Regardless, I now have a conviction on my record for the next three years.

But, here I am to find the silver lining in that cloud. The week after I lost my case I had no trouble with my solo in church. I guess there was something about doing something else much more stressful that made singing not seem like such a big deal anymore. Now I have another one tomorrow, with none of the old butterflies.

Very nice, but why did it have to take something so sucky to fix the other phobia? And what can I do to get over the fear of heights?

Made Up Words

I make up a lot of words. Oftentimes this happens because I am trying to communicate something, but there isn't a suitable word, or at least not one I can think of at the moment. Since my mouth works faster than my brain, this happens more often than you might think. Here's an example of the kinds of words I make up.

troubleshootability (n.) Range of clarity regarding a piece of code, specifically when researching solutions to problems.
It is important to find an appropriate balance in optimizing a piece of code for speed and troubleshootability.

The great thing about my made-up words (in my opinion), is that they are relatively straightforward for people understand what I'm trying to convey. This is, after all, the point of communication, so it seems to work. The bad thing about these is that they tend to be very long. It must be related to my having studied German in highschool, where long compound words are the norm.

How Old is an Old Car?

How old is too old on a car? Which repair is the final straw on the decision? Which repair makes you feel like if this gets fixed, nothing else can need to be replaced anymore?

The current broken thing on my car is the throttle actuator (I have learned about so many new parts owning this car). What on earth does this do? Well, it's the part that connects your accelerator pedal to the rest of the engine to tell it to go. However, on my car, it's a bit iffy whether that connection will be in place or not. When it's working, the car goes. When it's not, you can press on the accelerator all day long and you'll never hear the engine rev and it won't go faster than the let-your-foot-off-the-brake-and-creep-forward speed. Let me tell you -- that was freaky the first time it happened! But, if I turn off the car, and turn it back on, it fixes it up. For now.

Now, it's not this particular repair that has me questioning my car's longevity. But, we have been making relatively large money dumps into this car over the last few years. Not as much as a car payment would be (and that's unforgivingly every month), but repairs are big lumps unexpectedly.

I'm sure I will get it fixed, and continue on until whatever else goes wrong. But I'm curious -- how do you make that decision on replacing/repairing a car?

Household Confusion

While the US is officially on the metric system, the transition has been slow at best. Since my husband loves the mathematical simplicity of the metric system, we've been adjusting more and more to using it. His goal is for us to become "biligual" in the two systems, so that one day when the country really does switch, it will be easy for us.

When he was participating in freediving, my husband really got into the land of meters. I know he picked 61 meters as a target, because it was a nice, round 200 feet for our non-metric-speaking acquaintences. That three weeks of diving got me thinking in metric for underwater purposes.

Now he's focused on temperature. He put in a new temperature controller in the house, and configured it in Celsius. So, I'm trying to accept that the house is at 25.5 degrees during the evening, and goes up to 29.5 during the day when we're at work. Since this is just a pair of numbers, I can generally keep that 78 to 85 range in my brain. With our recent stove purchase, he set that up in Celsius, as well. Now I find myself doing math with 32 and 5/9 all the time to convert temperatures in recipes and on packaging in order to input the correct digits on the oven. And now there's a lot more numbers that I have to become bilingual with. So, the adjustment period really starts now. And hopefully at the end, I will be truly temperaturally bilingual.

The Devil Dog

We have decided that our sweet Shiner is the Devil Incarnate. I present for you the evidence:

• He has a forked tongue, much like a snake or a lizard or other Satanic-ish animal. It looks like it's probably a birth defect, rather than an old injury, because the two halves are wider than one tongue. But there it is: about an inch of split tongue-ness.


• He kills small animals and eats them for breakfast. Or lunch or dinner. So far, his body count sits at 5 -- 1 possum, 1 cat, 3 birds. That we know about. He is a terror on the furry little animals, and the neighbor dogs greet him with barking meant for a gladiator-esque scene. I think they enjoy the bloodsport that our back yard provides as entertainment.


• He makes Darth Vader noises. We haven't fed him out of a food bowl since his first week here. Instead, we feed him out of a plastic ball that he rolls around for a half-hour or so to sprinkle food out on the floor. He has learned to bring the ball to us when we tell him to, but when we walks around with it in his mouth, his breathing sounds like Darth Vader in his mask.

Okay, so it may not be the most compelling information ever, but he does seem to exude Death everywhere he goes. Maybe he's a Death Dog, instead of a Devil Dog.

And the Winner is.....

One week!

The appliances have been installed as of Wednesday night -- one week from the day of their appearance on our garage-step. The dishwasher was harder than the range, but then plumbing always involves a bit of voodoo and we had trouble finding fresh chicken blood. Regardless, all is well -- the dishes are clean, and the wok burner is hot.

New Arrivals

Today, the new appliances we'd ordered arrived in our garage. Now, normal people would have had them installed, but we're not normal, so we paid to have them delivered, but my husband wants to install them. So, now what do we have sitting in the garage?

We have a new dishwasher. But instead of a regular dishwasher, we got dish drawers. This is basically two separate one-rack dishwashers sitting on top of one another. When your whole household is only two people, half a dishwasher is generally sufficient.

We also have a new stove. This is one of those fancy ones with a wok burner. Based on my family's history of living in Asia, I love to cook various Asian foods, and regular ranges just don't get hot enough for good stir-fry. Instead, with the current stove, I tend to end up with boiled food rather than stir-fried food. Most unsatisfying. But this should fix this. For my husband, the Baker, it also has a convection oven. I have never used one, and can't really envision what will be better about it, but my husband assures me the cookies will be cooked more evenly and the bread will rise better. I figure if I can have my fancy burner, he can have his fancy oven.

With the new stove, we had to get a new vent hood (the old one hadn't worked in years). It's pretty strong, and is likely to pull my hair off as I cook.

Anyone wanna make any bets on how long it will take to get these installed? One week? Two months? Longer?

Kitchen Improvements

The long-awaited kitchen remodel is finally ready to almost be underway (did I hedge enough there?). We tend to plan things like this a bit much, so it takes a lot longer than it does for normal people to get going on a remodel effort. Of course, normal people hire someone to do it for them. Or at least to supplement the work that they want to do themselves with work done by professionals. But no, not us.

See, my husband is pretty competent with mechanical things. He basically has a PhD in them, and his dad did woodworking as his career for most of his life. So, he's more than competent -- he's quite good, and this makes the work done by most professionals seem shoddy to him. True, he's only doing something once, and has a lot of motivation to do it the right way, but he's also not getting paid by the number of jobs he completes. It all comes back to that old adage -- you can pick two of the three: quality, speed, cheap. Since most people are concerned with "cheap", either quality or speed have to be compromised. And most contractors need the speed for their businesses to succeed. Now, I'm not saying that contractors do a poor job, just that my husband is such a perfectionist that he notices every little gap or nick or thing that just wasn't done the way he would have done them.

As an example, a couple of months ago we had French doors put in to replace the ailing back sliding glass door that had been there forever. We looked at lots of doors, and settled on an unfinished wooden set. We really wanted them to open outward into the back yard, which required fancy security hinges which were backordered and delayed multiple times, but finally arrived, and were installed as agreed. However, one side of the door hole wasn't completely plumb, so they lined everything up, and put the jamb over it. This completely hid the fact that there was a gap, but he wanted it to be shimmed, and he complained about it for weeks, even deciding to boycott the establishment where we got the doors. I've never worried the door wasn't solid, but I do think my husband wants to be sure it's hard for someone to bulldoze our house one day.

As a result, it's actually easier to let him do these things himself. It just means things take forever. So, when he decided he wants to build his own kitchen cabinets, I expressed the concern that we would be without a functional kitchen for a year or more. He agreed that was a valid concern. However, for his mental health, and for preservation of my ears from having to listen to the complaints about someone else's work, I have resigned myself to a long remodel effort. At the end, though, it should be seriously nice.

At this point, we have floor plans, and lots of drawings of various stages of cabinet design. We have new appliances ordered, and they are arriving this week. That will really force us to start making some serious progress.

Pictures may follow, if can remember to pull out the camera for various parts of the process.

This weekend, we went out and ordered a new dishwasher

Loss of Detail Orientation

I was recently noticing that in the last few weeks I've had a lot of typos. First I had to correct them all (sort of a new 1984 policing group -- The Ministry of Blog Accuracy -- it feels very Orwellian to be changing history. Bwa Ha Ha!). Then I had to figure out why. I'm doing it at work, too, having to proofread all my emails because I don't get them typed up right to start with. All of this obviously makes one less productive in a given day. And I'm all about productivity, no, ruthless efficiency.

So why this decrease in the quality of my typing? Well, I don't know. But I guess it means I've been distracted and trying to do too much at once. Multi-tasking is great, but not if it means you don't get anything finished right. Accuracy is more important than speed, so today I will try to slow down and get back on the right track.

A Resolution Bites the Dust

Yesterday was the Danskin triathlon. My mom made her goal, shaving 10 minutes off her swim, and making it up three hills on the bike ride. My little sister improved her time by 30 minutes, and isn't quite as vehement about how she won't be doing the race next year. My other sister finished her first, and finished faster than mom, so she was happy.

I'm the only one that didn't make my goal. Now it's true I was expecting a pretty big improvement over my personal best, but it just comes down to the fact that I didn't train enough. For some people that would be a depressing realization, "I didn't make my goal, I must suck, and I should give up now." However, I'm a stubborn little freak, and this result just makes me want to fight harder, and work more, and make it a better result next time. And I will. 'Cause that's what I do.

Full, Loud House

Today, my family converges on my house in preparation for Danskin Triathlon weekend. As a family with a high female makeup, a women-only triathlon is just the thing for us. Here are the players:

My Mom: She's the root of the stubbornness that us kids exhibit. She finished the race last year out of sheer determination to do so. She laughs loud.

My Sister: A's the "crazy" sister. She's in the Navy, working on a degree in nuclear engineering which will allow her to be an officer. We should all be worried. She talks loud.

My Little Sister: C's the one that still lives at home. She'll be a junior in high school next year, and she keeps the rest of us young. Or makes us feel old and loud.

Me: I'm not quiet either.

So, when the four of us are together (and we try to limit the frequency of this occurrence), we are a generally loud group. My husband is considering getting a hotel room for the weekend.

We Made It!

Today is our eighth anniversary. Yes, it's 06/06/06, so at least it's not our sixth anniversary. Anyway, we made it. The seventh year was tough with some stressful stuff going on. But we've come a long way since where we were a year ago. And it feels good to know we've continued to stick by each other through everything so far. It seems like a positive slope that we're on now. Congratulations to us. :)

Really Menial Jobs

One of my favorite mental pasttimes is to think about ways to automate certain repetitive tasks, I suppose that's why I'm in the industry I'm in, doing the job I'm doing -- automating the transfer of data all over the place. Not the most exciting stuff to write about, exciting to do, but not really good material, so to speak. So, I think about other, more mechanical, automations.

It all started with my favorite Mister Rogers Neighborhood episode as a child. It was the one where he showed us how they make crayons. I was completely enthralled with the way the wax is poured into a mold and then a machine wraps the paper around them and puts them in a box. It was impressive to me that this process could be done completely without human intervention. I also assumed there was a time when this wasn't such an automated process, and people had to do things like stick crayons in a box for a living.

My grandpa worked on the factory line at Ford all his life. After a while, it became clear that he needed to learn automation skills, or he would be phased out. So, he become a robotics tech and learned everything he needed to fix the machines that built the cars, rather than building the cars themselves. So, I come by my interest naturally.

There are a lot of things I buy that I can see how it would have been produced through an automated process of some kind. There is one I was thinking of this morning that I couldn't come up with anything for, however, so I was hoping you could help me. As a kid, I loved the Strawberry Shortcake dolls, and I had most of them. I can see how the little plastic dolls could be made automatically, and how their little clothes could, in many cases be made without human intervention. But how do you get their little clothes on the little dolls? Same goes for Barbies or any other dolls. I hate to think there are people (or even worse, children) whose job it is to put clothes on dolls all day long.

Officially Into Summer

Memorial Day weekend has always been my official switchover weekend into summertime. Now, technically, it doesn't really matter, since I will still go to work everyday and I don't have children to remind me how wonderful it is to be out of school. However, there are a couple of things that really make summer nice around here, so it's nice to have started summer now.

We love to go to the lake on the weekends in the summer. We get out there early, have a nice swim around, maybe stay long enough to eat lunch and head out before the crowds get too busy. My husband may take these things to an extreme, but I agree that too many people at the lake makes for not as nice a time. Regardless, it's nice to be in the water and out in the sun.

Summer also means we do a lot more projects around the house, spend a lot more money on things we've been meaning to get/do, and have a generally higher amount of activity going on.

This Memorial Day, we celebrated with the Capital of Texas Triathlon. This was the first time I've done this race, and it is now my favorite event. Looking at the route map with the multiple loops of the course, it looked to be boring. But, Austin being the city that it is, tons of people came out to cheer us all on, and that made it more fun than any race I've done before. It helps that I beat my time on my last Olympic-distance race by more than 30 minutes, but that's not the whole story. It was just fun, and I worked hard, and I felt good afterward. And that, my friends, is the point of doing a race where you know there's no chance you'll win.

Something Light and Fun

I've been trying to think of something light and fun to write about all day. However, everytime I turn around, someone wants to remind me that my uncle-in-law died last week. He fainted and fell down a flight of stairs and was in a coma for a week and then he died. It's been tough for the family since it was a sudden accident sort of thing, rather than a long illness.

So, I'm going to tell you about Finale, a company that makes music composing software. Actually, I'm not going to tell you about the company, but about how wonderful the software is, and how much I enjoy using it.

I don't know how much most of you have the need to arrange a piece of music for a 4-piece band and vocals, but I have to just about every week. I'm not a very good arranger, but most of my work involves taking existing music and putting it in a key/range that is workable for most mortals. On a 4-minute piece of music, this can easily be a full-day's work, but this software allows me to get in done in less than two hours. And it's only that long because I'm an annoying perfectionist, and I want every slur demarked properly, and I have to check the guitar chords really changed properly. Once I've got everything set, I tell it to play, and I get the chance to make sure everything goes together. Tweak a chord, add an accidental, and try it again. It's the perfect tool for the person that has as much uncertainty about their musical abilities as I do.

The really great part is that afterwards I have both PDFs and MIDIs that I can send to the group and tell them to know the music before they come to practice. Anyone wanna take bets on whether any of them will actually open the files before Thursday night?

The Killer Revealed

Shiner is a documented attacker of cats. Last night he had his first kill.

I let him out in the back yard, and he made a beeline for the fence. He returned with something fluffy in his mouth, and I got him to drop it. But it didn't get up and run away like the last time. My heart sank...which neighbor do I have to go tell that my dog ate their cat?

I got Shiner back in the house and away from his prize. It was late, so I got out the flashlight and went to check it out. It wasn't a cat -- it looked more like an enormous rat with huge teeth. That's right, Shiner killed himself a possum. Now, some people think possums may actually be smart, but I mostly think they are what they look like -- enormous rats. So, once I saw I wasn't going to have to apologize that some other cat wandered into our yard like an idiot, I was very pleased with Shiner. He got treats and loving, but he didn't get to eat his possum. They have random icky diseases that I'd rather not have to take Shiner to the vet for.

Oh won't the sanitation engineers have fun with my trash this week!

I Had a Dream

Last week, I had a dream. A dream that unsettled me significantly.

My sister beat me in the Danskin.

Granted, this was the sister in the Navy, and not the sister that still lives at home. So, as part of the Navy she does PT several times a week. But this is her first triathlon, and I as the "seasoned" triathlete (I've done 5....hardly seasoned) should be able to finish before her. She has good endurance, but she's not all that fast.

So, I've kicked my training into high gear. Saturday I rode in the Armadillo Hill Country classic. I could say I rode the 105-mile course, but that would be a big lie. I did do the 28-mile course, and I was happy with how good I felt at the end of it. Memorial Day I'll be doing the Capital of Texas Triathlon (which is twice as long as the Danskin), and that will be a good measure of where I'm at two weeks before the actual event. I plan to finish that event in less than 4 hours. That would be a significant improvement over the last Olympic distance triathlon I did.

I've only ever done two lengths of these races -- Sprint and Olympic. There are also Ironmans and Half-Ironmans, but I'm not that crazy (yet). Sprint distance is broken down as an 800 meter swim, a 20K bike, and a 5K run. The Olympic distance is twice that. The one Olympic distance triathlon I did was several years ago now. It was in March in a nice deep (read, cold) lake. I was advised that I didn't need a wetsuit, but the water on race day was 62 degrees (70 degree water is the rule cutoff for not being allowed to wear a wetsuit). And if you're me, 62 degree water is cold. For those of you familiar with Barton Springs here in Austin, that holds steady at 68 degrees. Anyway, the swim was really tough, and took me nearly an hour because I couldn't get warmed up. As a result of spending almost twice as long on the swim, I had no energy for the rest of the race. I finished second-to-last at an abysmal 4:45. But I did finish. There were lots of DNFs in that race. People who got 50 meters into the swim and quit. I didn't do it pretty, but there it is.

I don't expect the water temperature to be a problem in this year's race. So, I hope I can make back a lot of the time I lost in the last one. And minimize the effect of that one longer race on my psyche.

Another Wedding

It must be wedding season. And based on the number of comments I eke out of my readers with my wedding posts (so far, 0 for 2), I can see that you like these things about as much as unsliced bread, so I'll keep this one short.

We went to yet another wedding this past weekend, and I'm glad this one is over. It was probably the most cliche wedding I've ever been to. Everything was ultra-traditional, which can be nice, but this was just cutesy and obnoxious. The DJ was probably better suited for a junior high dance than a wedding reception. The swan theme was excessive (married by a pond with swans in it, swans on the program, swan candles floating in the centerpieces, swan topper on the cake, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera). And it was a dry wedding to boot. No alcohol to try and make it more... anything.

Overall, it just made me appreciate it when people make their weddings a little bit different. That adds to the interesting-ness of life. It's the reason I live, people! Not to go to boring weddings you can buy as a kit from Target.

I Don't Get Mad Often...

But when I do, you better get out of my way.

I nearly spit nails over this stunt David Blaine pulled this evening. I decreed I would not watch it, but since my resolve to not watch TV has been lacking and with the can't-avoid-watching-a-train-wreck phenomenon, I found myself flipping to it periodically. In case you didn't see anything about this special, it was about this magician-turned-side-show-freak who decided to hold his breath for nine minutes on live television. Why did this make me so mad? I'll tell you.

Nine minutes is hard. That's fine, but then if you know that the time would be a new world record, you'd know that. Then why hang out in a tank of water for a week and have yourself chained to the bottom of that tank so that your stunt includes not only the holding of your breath for longer than anyone else has in a record attempt, but also after subjecting your body to unknown stressors for water living for that long and picking of handcuff locks to boot? What is he really trying to prove? That he's still a magician/escape artist, and not just doing some stunt that someone else could try, too? I don't get it.

Then, if you lose consciousness holding your breath on your couch for 5 minutes, what makes you think you can do nearly twice that long in water? I hope that was early in his training, because that's a lot of time to increase. They had video of him laying on a couch and the people watching him told him he'd reached the 5-minute point, and a few seconds later he sputtered a breath, and asked how long he went. He never heard them announce 5 minutes. Hint, hint: that means there's not enough oxygen getting to your brain, dude. If there's not enough oxygen getting to your brain at 5 minutes, even with training it's going to be tough to make it 4 more minutes. I know there is a mammalian dive reflex that lowers your heartrate and allows you to use less oxygen if your face is in the water, but not four minutes worth.

And lastly, they threw out the Audrey card. Any of you who follow freediving or have had a subscription to Sports Illustrated in the last five years have most likely heard about Audrey. She was an unfortunate diver whose equipment malfunctioned (we'll give the benefit of the doubt for this particular entry) at the bottom of a world-record-attempting dive. As a result, she was under water almost 10 minutes (not the 8:30 the show cited), and was unable to be revived. While virtually everything that can go wrong did, her dive is not an indicator of how dangerous a 9-minute breathhold is. In fact, the only way a breathhold dive is dangerous is if you're dumb enough to do it alone. Otherwise, your buddy should always be able to pull you out and spontaneous breathing will commence. In a depth dive, the oxygen in your lungs is significantly compressed under the pressure of the depth, so it doesn't become as available to your core and brain as a surface dive allows. Comparing a dive to 170 meters (nearly 560 feet, or 46 stories) to a dive where you're hanging out in a tank with your forehead sticking out of the water is worse than apples to oranges. And in excessively poor taste, since her attempt didn't just fail, she died.

The only good thing that came out of this is that David Blaine failed. He had to be rescued from his tank at just over seven minutes. He's not in the record books for this stunt.

Resolution Update

There's something about posting one's New Year's resolutions that makes them harder to imagine away. Here's a look back at an update of how I'm doing on those so far this year.

1. I have slacked pretty bad on the no TV decision. I really was more productive when I wasn't watching TV, so there is definitely some value in renewing that effort.

2. I've lost 8 pounds of the 10 I planned on. I have been doing really well with eating out less and eating better. I've also stuck to my limit of two cokes in a week, and that's probably been most of my success. I don't like the taste of diet sodas, so I drink the full sugar versions, and that's a lot of empty calories. Last week I also cut most dairy out of my diet, and I felt a lot better as a result.

3. My Danskin training really kicks in now that we're less than two months before the race. I still think I can finish that race in less than an hour and a half. And I've completed the necessary first step in meeting that goal -- I registered for the race.

4. The training for number 3 is my kickoff for the training for next year's marathon. I still have some time on that one, but the running will be measured in miles instead of minutes in a short period of time.

Just thought I'd keep you all posted on my progress.

Ah, Bonaire

I started to respond to James' comment about where Bonaire is, and realized my answer was getting too long. It's hard to talk about a place that beautiful without getting a little wordy. So, I decided to make a whole post instead.

Bonaire is the little, middle island of the "ABC Islands" in the Caribbean: Aruba, Bonaire and Curacao. Just north of Venezuela, its reefs are a national park where commercial fishing is illegal. It's also a Dutch colony, so the food blend is very unique and tasty. You know, things like poffertjes with fried plaintains.

We went for a week with another couple from Austin. The tiny airport handles two flights a day -- one from Puerto Rico and one from Amsterdam. There were no jetways, and two airport employees -- for baggage handling, ticketing, security, escort to and from the plane, etc. And that makes sense, since it's a small island. You can drive the complete coast in about 45 minutes.

And the diving. Breathtaking. Wow.

We dove 3 dives a day for a week, and I didn't get enough. The water is so clear and a perfect temperature for easy diving accessible from the shore. The coral was full of life -- parrotfish, tons of other brightly colored fish, various sea snakes, sharks, groupers, barracudas, crustaceans of unknown name, and these little animals attached to the coral that were light feathery things that would retreat inside themselves when they felt water rushing past them (never did figure out what those were called).

Besides diving tourists (which is a big industry there), Bonaire is a large producer of salt, and the salt fields are surprisingly interesting to look at. The sea water is introduced into pens that look a lot like rice paddies, and the water is evaporated and moved to shallower pens until the salt can be scooped up with shovels and machinery and cleaned and packaged. I was surprised by how red the water gets as it gets denser (but I suppose that's why the Red Sea is red).

And there you have it. Bonaire in a nutshell.

Presenting the New Site

After tinkering with the look of this blog for quite some time, I decided to just replace the whole durn thing. So here you go -- a new look to start into a new month. I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to comment. I may or may not get around to incorporating your comments into the look in the next year or so. How's that for commitment?

True Love

Today, two of my very best friends got married to each other. It is so exciting to see people that you love very much tie the knot, knowing they are perfect for each other and ready to begin their life together. Her family is all from Nuevo Laredo (just across the border from Laredo, Texas), so that was the location for the festivities. The Mexican Catholic wedding doesn't really have bridesmaids and groomsmen, but there are three sponsor couples for different parts of the mass. The groom's best friend and his wife were the padrinos, or godparents, of the rings, the bride's sister and her boyfriend were the padrinos of the lasso, a giant rosary that fits over both the bride and groom while the prayers are read, and my husband and I were the padrinos of the arras, or gold coins.

The tradition of the thirteen gold coins is one that is really interesting, and one that I wish was more prevalent in the general American wedding population. The priest blesses the coins and hands them to the groom. The groom then tells the bride that these coins represent his intent to provide everything he can for their family, and drops them into her waiting, cupped hands. She then thanks him for his plan and promises to make their earnings stretch to meet their needs and appreciate what he does for them. While this particular couple is more likely to have her work and him stay home with the future children, the sentiment that is shared between them during this piece really drives home that "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer," part of the vows.

Anyway, this responsibility in the ceremony is the closest thing to being named the matron of honor in a US wedding. So, it was my job to help get the bride ready in the morning and over to the church for the noon start.

I started out in fine fashion by waking up when I was supposed to meet the bride to go get our makeup done. Conveniently, she is always running late, so I was downstairs by 9am, and she hadn't left her parents house at that point. We got makeup and hair finished up and were back at the hotel to get into the dress and over to the church. We had made up any lost time, so we weren't rushing to be on time. However, we did have to have her all dressed up before going over to the church (unlike any other wedding I've been at where the bride dresses at the church). Then I was going to drive her over in the groom's car, which I've never driven before. This is where things got interesting.

Now, I have no problem driving a manual transmission. I've had extensive experience with four of them in my life: my dad's Ford Escort, my first car, a Nissan Sentra, my husband's 1978 Chevy pickup truck (a three-on-the-tree), and his Mini Cooper. It's a wide range of styles, and I wasn't too worried about it. However, I didn't want the bride to have to traipse through the garage parking lot in her dress, so I told her I'd bring the car around and pick her up. I got in the car, a VW Jetta, and started it up. And then, couldn't get it into reverse. Now, I have since learned that the Jetta requires you to push down on the shifter in order to access the reverse gear, but I didn't know that, nor did it occur to me to try. So, try as I might, I couldn't get it into gear. Not wanting to stress out the bride or call someone for help, I found my own solution when I realized it was a small car, and couldn't be that heavy. The spot next to me was empty, so I turned the steering wheel all the way to the left, dropped the shifter into neutral, and got out and pushed it out of the spot. In my dress...and heels...by myself. I did look around to make sure there were no witnesses. Whew. Once it was pushed out, I got in and drove the bride to the church without incident.

The ceremony was beautiful, even if I understood very little of what was going on since the whole thing was in Spanish. The groom did a great job of managing all his spoken parts in a language he doesn't speak, and the bride didn't cry enough to mess up her makeup. The reception included great company and wonderful food. What more could a couple want? I was just happy to have been a part of it.

Coming Out of Hiding

My husband and I have gone to Mexico for a friend's wedding. I very seldom make him go to anything, but this was one of those things that I told him wasn't optional -- he was coming to this wedding. He is a bit of a hermit (or homebody if you feel that is a nicer term), and really doesn't like to go out much. I, on the otherhand, start to feel stir-crazy if I'm home too many nights in a week. For the first couple of years we were married, I tried to go out only when he wanted to. And then I started to resent him with all the invitations we turned down (and subsequently stopped receiving). So, somewhere along the line I realized it was okay for me to go out without him when an invitation came up for something that interested me. I didn't really realize how often I did this until we arrived in Mexico.

The bride-to-be's sister met my husband and I in the hotel lobby with a gaggle of other folks. Later, the bride relayed her comment to me: "How serious is Heather with that guy?" Nearly eight years of marriage later, I guess we're pretty serious.

Most other couples are referred to by both their names -- The Guy and The Girl (order generally depending on which of them you knew first, or better). When people talk about inviting us to things, they say "Heather, you wanna come? Oh, and if your husband wants to come too, that's fine." He's the afterthought. I don't want him to be the afterthought, but I don't want to wait and only leave the house the 2 times a year he feels like it, either.

Nervousness

I have never been a shy person. I have always been able to strike up a conversation with anyone, and have never avoided a chance at a leadership role. I'm also not afraid to look like an idiot, and most people I know have a story about something stupid I've done or said.

However, I freeze up quite regularly when I sing solo in my church. Now, I've been directing the praise team at the church for the last year, and I was part of the band for about two years before that. I sing with the group and play keyboard when I'm needed to fill in. I was a bit nervous the first couple of times I sang or played with the group, but then I got past it, and I really enjoy it. But, I can't seem to get past the nervousness when I'm singing by myself. This morning, I started the song incorrectly twice before I was able to hear my starting notes. And you can always tell how badly you've done by the number of people that come up to you after the service to tell you how good the music was in the service. I did pretty badly. Once I got going, it was fine, but the beginning was rough.

It doesn't seem to matter how much I practice. Freezing up seldom seems to have anything to do with my preparedness level. Part of me feels I just need to do more solos to get passed my nervousness. And another part of me thinks I shouldn't subject people to my mess-ups anymore.

Good Friday is Very Good

Good Friday is my favorite day of the year. Every year I look forward to Good Friday more than Christmas or Easter or anything like that. For starters, it's the beginning to the weekend that defines why a Christian is a Christian. As a card-carrying Christ follower, it's a primo weekend. Meanwhile, the service tonight will be somber and reflective -- the only service of the year that is like that. Every other Sunday service is Easter, or a mini-Easter celebration. I love Easter, don't get me wrong. But it helps to have the valleys in order to appreciate the mountaintops. And the service tonight is that perspective-setting valley.

The office of tenebrae is the service we will be following tonight. It ends in darkness and silence broken by a loud crash. The darkness and silence leading up to the harsh noise is a critical part of completing the symbolism of the tragedy of Christ's death. In past years, though, with Easter after Daylight Savings time, a 7pm service finishes with it still being light outside. When you can see the pastor about to slam the Bible down, it sort of removes the surprise bit of it. This year, however, my church has decided to move tonight's service to 8pm. So, while that is too late for some people, it means that it will be dark by the time the service is over, which better sets the sad mood that is most appropriate to have by the end of the service.

I am really excited for this weekend. And it all starts with a appropriately sobering Friday night, a commemoration of that terrible, but very good, Friday two thousand years ago.

Getting a New Job

I'm not leaving my company, just getting a new job. I love working at a small, growing company, like I do. There is so much flexibility to grow and change one's role to coincide with your own strengths. And that is what I am doing. Taking my strengths and moving into a role I will really excel at.

In the meantime, I am doing both jobs. The one I'm transitioning out of as well as the new one I'm moving into. As a result I have been working a lot of hours, leaving little, to no, time for blogging. I haven't disappeared, I just have a brain that looks like mush by the time I get home.

Today, for example, I started work at 4am. and I worked until 6:30pm. I've pulled all-nighters for this company, more all-nighters, I might add, than I ever did in college. And yet, I get excited to keep going back to work day in and day out. I guess that's how I know I've found a job and a company that I really like.

Yesterday, I had a meeting with a customer where I was wearing my new role hat. This particular customer was beligerent and pushy and downright rude. Anytime I tried to share the ways we would address their concerns, they would talk over me condescendingly and talk about all their wonderful traits. I had to repeat the same solution explanation 4 times because they wouldn't shut up long enough to hear what I had to say. During this 90-minute meeting, I ceased to have the 10 nicely grown out nails (and that is quite the accomplishment for me, believe me). After the meeting, I was down to 1. That's how stressed they made me. That meeting made me question if I was really moving into the right position in the company.

Today I got a voicemail from that customer's primary contact. She apologized for the behavior of her co-workers, and let me know that they have "handled" the problem, and we will never need to expect that sort of behavior from them. Apparently, during the call when they put us on hold, one of the managers came in and reprimanded the offenders for their behavior. Too bad that was about 80 minutes into the call, because they were much more civil afterwards. And then I remembered why I like my job so much. While I have the occasional asswipe to deal with, the vast majority of our customers are wonderful to work with. They are reasonable and sweet, and some of them even write poetry about us or send us cookies. They are good people.

And so, I won't be quitting after one bad call, no matter how bad. And I will keep doing two jobs for the next few weeks while everything works itself out for a transition. And I will keep working with good people. I love my job.

Special Needs Dog

I recently wrote up my paragraph on why someone should adopt Shiner for the website describing the available dogs at this time. I went to the site and saw Rufus' story. As I read his description, I realized this was the dog that was originally slated to come to my house, instead of Shiner. Having been out of the fostering realm for a couple of years, I don't think that would have been the best way to start back in. Thankfully, the foster coordinators saw the better plan and gave us Shiner for the time being. And he's been a joy.

Early Expectations

A few weeks ago, my little sister came to our house for her Spring Break. She is just sixteen, and a sophomore in highschool. My parents were sending her to us under the auspices that we would visit colleges and help her figure out where she wants to go to school when she graduates. Did anyone miss the part about her being a sophomore? In case you did, I'll put it in different terms: 10th grade.

So, in my talks with her leading up to the visit, I said we would just tell them we visited colleges, and they wouldn't be the wiser. My dad, particularly, continued to harp on the subject, so I finally acquiesced. We would visit some schools.

When she got here, though, I couldn't do it. Saturday came and went. Then Sunday and Monday. Tuesday morning I pulled together everything I could and we visited UT, Concordia, and Texas State, all in a span of about 2 and a half hours (an hour of that was the drive back and forth from TX St). By visited, I mean we drove through and talked about the relative merits and drawbacks of very small, medium-sized, and large schools. And then we were done. I promised no more lapses in our refusing to visit schools.

We did everything else, though, and by the end of the week I was completely worn out. Mostly I tried to get her to understand that her opinions and desires and strengths are valid, even if they don't match Dad's expectations of her. I don't think I succeeded, but I laid some groundwork for some further conversations. It's pretty difficult to undo in one week the damage my dad does all year.

I know he has the best intentions, he just doesn't always push his agenda in the best way possible. I know they are also older now than when I was in highschool -- more ready than ever to finally be empty-nesters. I try to remind them it's not her fault that she was born so much later in the family's life cycle, but I know she still gets that vibe. How could any kid not get that vibe.

Regardless, when I dropped her off at the airport to head back home, I called my dad. I told him we hadn't figured anything out during the week, and that I considered it a personal victory that she said she is now more confused than she was when she came to our house. I was a bit stern with him, reminding him that she has 18 months before she even has to apply to places, much less decide where to go or what to major in. (I left out the part where I told her it was okay if she didn't go to college, too. We have to work up to that possibility.) I told him to let her focus on trying to stay in that top 10 percent of her class, and not worry about selecting her career (and husband, and the date she'll have children, etc.) until much later.

Why would I ever need to have children of my own? I have my little sisters (the other one has her own set of dramatics). And more than that, I have my dad to keep me busy.

British Invasion

This weekend, my husband and I attending the wedding celebration of his sister and her new husband. He is British, but we did not go to London for these festivities. Instead, his relatives and friends came to Northern Georgia for the parties. After all the regular jokes about driving on the wrong side of the road, we settled in for a very fun set of days. I've almost stopped saying things like "lovely" and "dreadful," but I am still looking for a reason to use my new phrase, "khak my pants."

We went to five parties in four days, and apparently there were two others we weren't even invited to attend. It's a good thing, too, since I don't think I could have gone to one more party without exploding. I love my sister-in-law, and I really like this guy she married, but is it really necessary to jump up and down constantly for the whole weekend? Thankfully, my mother-in-law didn't spontaneously combust, though that was a distinct possibility.

---

One of my responsibilities at this wedding was to play the video toast that her other brother put together since he was unable to attend. This involved a projector, speakers, a mixer, and a laptop. With all the equipment I rented, I could have bought him a plane ticket, myself. The brother-in-law, with his theatrics, put together an animated film wherein Great Britain invaded Georgia for the booming poultry market. Negotiations between the bride and groom representing their respective countries (?) were tense:
  Bride: "I'm right!"
  Groom: "Oh dear."
  Et cetera ...

During the playing of this toast, I realized that I was the most likely person to be attacked by the bride in question, and I was only four feet away from her. Thankfully, she was able to laugh at herself (or she'd had too much wine by that point to be aware of what was going on), and I have survived to blog another day.

Regardless, all is right in the world again. Most of those UK-ers have returned home, or at least gone to places like New York and Vail where people expect to see foreigners. The sleepy little towns in northern Georgia have been allowed to return to their regular, non-constant-partying selves. And I go back to work tomorrow, trying to earn a living in the field I know best.

Love is beautiful, no?

Moving Out of the Depression

This will be my last post about basketball for a while, I promise. I don't know if any of you noticed, but my Aggies lost a 1-point heartbreaker to LSU to exit from the NCAA tournament. I was so excited about how well they've played this season, so that made this loss really hard. Oh and the part about not getting to go to the Sweet 16 game I'd imagined between A&M and Duke in Atlanta tonight. I was going to Atlanta anyway today, and I had delusions that I would be going to that game. But, it wasn't to be.

But now I'm coming out of my sadness about that loss. We had an awesome run, and a great season. Next year holds even greater promise as a result. I'm glad we got the opportunity to have a couple of wins in post-season play, both in the Big 12 Tournament and in the NCAA Tournament. That has to boost our recruiting abilities, and we have our best players back next year to go with that. All leads to a very promising future for the team.

Thank you for allowing me to talk about this run in this forum. I know you don't really have any say in what I write here, but I'm trying to be gracious.

My Aggies Rock

Did you see that they won? Did you see that they won?? If not, I'll go ahead and spoil your TiVo watching for later. Texas A&M beat Syracuse in the first round of the tournament! It was exactly A&M's kind of game -- a defensive, low-scoring battle that is won by the three and running out the shot clock on every possession. The tempo was ours. Gerry McNamara was ours. He has been so hot lately, and his play in the last few games of the season and the Big East tournament are why Syracuse was listed as a 5 seed (does anyone remember how they were being talked about as a bubble team just before the Big East tournament?). However, A&M completely shut him down. No field goals. At all.

And that's why we won. Good defense and a lot of heart. I am so proud. And we'll be playing again on Saturday. LSU, you better get ready for us.

SXSW Movie Review

I don't normally do this. Of course, I don't normally see anything until it goes mainstream and everyone and their dog has seen it, too. But this time was different. I know someone who knows someone who knows someone else...who knows the director of "The Oh in Ohio", and they got us tickets to go see it Monday night at the SXSW Film Festival here in Austin.

This film stars Parker Posey, Paul Rudd, Mischa Barton, and Danny Devito, and addresses the topic of female sexual dysfunction. The storyline was fun, and the characters were all believable and multi-layered. The audience was laughing and generally enjoying themselves. I was a little embarrassed when I remembered my 15-year-old sister was in the seat next to me, but she also enjoyed it.

It is being shown again this Friday night at the Paramount theater as part of the festival. In case it's already sold out, I wanted to let you all know that they are working on getting wider spread carrying of the film, so it might be coming to a theater near you. If it does, please be sure to go. But it will probably be rated R, so be careful about taking your 15-year-old sister.

Customer Bracket Bragging

Quite a few of my customers made it to the big dance this year. Last year, I only had 5 in the tournament. This year, it's 8 of my 62 customers. That's a pretty good percentage, considering how many of my customers aren't Division I schools or are all together in one of the wimpy conferences that only gets their automatic bid. Here's the breakdown, by seed, for my little list of customers that made it this year:

2 Ohio State
5 Syracuse
5 Pittsburgh
6 Michigan State
9 Bucknell
12 Texas A&M
12 Kent State
15 Pennsylvania

Unfortunately, I am guaranteed to lose two of my customers in the first round, since they are in head-to-head 5/12 matchups. And of course there's my 15-seed. But overall, it was a good showing. I know it seems strange to look at things like this, but last year, I bet against Bucknell, even though they were my customer. And you all know how that went down. Well maybe you don't, but they upset Kansas, and 14 seeds just don't do that very often.

---

Meanwhile, I am so pumped about my Aggies. The first trip to the big dance in nearly 20 years. It's certainly the first time since I've been paying attention. Do they have a tough road ahead of them? Sure. But you have to watch out for those 5/12 pairings. Every year one or two 5 seeds fall in the first round. I hope my "little team that could" can be one of those. And have I ever mentioned that I'm ecstatic that Josh Carter is just a freshman this year? And that Acie Law and Joe Jones are still juniors, and we'll get another year out of them? The prospects for next year are so good, I can hardly contain myself.

Austin is a Great Place to Live

When I first moved to Austin, I didn't really like it. Of course, that might have been the unemployment or the waiting tables or the apartment with the bars on the windows. Regardless, in time, Austin has really grown on me. Here are some of the best things about Austin.

This city is quite the outdoorsy locale. People hike and swim and run and cycle and generally participate in tons of stuff outside. There is a plethora of available races for all athletic levels, and participants in said races tend to be incredibly supportive of their fellow racers. It's just the kind of place that encourages activity. After my announcement that I wanted to do a marathon in another year, I've gotten so many training suggestions, books, offers to run together, etc. It's very encouraging and exciting.

Downtown is quite the bustling place, full of fun restaurants and hangouts, and generally nifty things to do. So many cultures are reflected in the food and the atmosphere of the places that are available.

And finally, but most importantly, one of the state mental hospitals is located here. This makes things easier when it's time to check in. Or easier to visit my husband when I have him checked in.

Civic Duty Completed

As it turned out, all those questions I answered in the online reporting tool got me selected for the jury. When I arrived at the door to the room in question, it took me right into the jury box in a courtroom. And there I sat with 10-12 other people.

There was no one else in the room. There was a desk for a court reporter, a table for the defendants and another for the prosecutor, a witness stand, and desk for the judge. I found myself thinking it was surprisingly plain and unassuming for the state capital of Texas, even for a municipal courtroom.

Everyone sat there quietly, not wanting to be the first person to try and make chit-chat attempts. The guy next to me was that person who is way too important for his own good. He sent and received probably 10 text messages during the 30 minutes I sat next to him.

We could hear voices in the next room. They got louder and softer as time progressed. Sometimes it sounded like a very unhappy person, and sometimes like a very angry person. Couldn't hear anything when the voices got quieter.

After a little while, a man came in to take roll. Two people were missing. When he left, we resumed our quiet ignoring of each other. I returned to my puzzle, and a guy across from me looked for a new magazine to thumb through. Ten minutes more, and the roll-caller came back to announce that the judge would be in momentarily to talk with us. We were told to rise, the judge came in, and we all sat back down.

He thanked us for coming and fulfilling our obligation. He thanked us for our patience. And then he said they were able to settle all the cases on the docket for the day without having to bring them befor us, so we were free to go. He even said any parking tickets we may have gotten would be paid for by the city.

As we left, I overheard one of my fellow jurors say, "That's my favorite judge ever."

It was a bit anti-climactic. I was sorry not to have gotten to experience the full fun of a trial. It probably would have been a speeding ticket or parking ticket, and not nearly that exciting, but I was intrigued to see the process in action. Only without the cameras and TV writers scripting it out.

My Civic Responsibility

Today I am off to be selected, or not selected, into a jury. I've never actually served on a jury, so this is certainly going to be interesting. Even if just in the experiencing of the process.

It's interesting to me that anyone I've told that I have jury duty has tried to give me advice on what to do to get out of being selected. First off, I am incapable of lying, so telling me to make up anything is just not going to happen. But secondly, if everyone is trying to get out of jury duty, then won't it be hard to assemble a jury of peers? Of course it's an inconvenient time to be out of work, and certainly I don't want to be sequestered for the next six months of my life, but it seems that it's important for someone to be willing to serve.

Family Differences

This weekend there was a day where I straightened my hair. Now my hair isn't excessively curly, but it is wavy, and sometimes a bit unruly. It really threw my husband off for me to have straight hair. At one point he came up behind me and said, "You look like someone in my family with your hair like that."

I reminded him that I am a member of his family.

...

This has been an ongoing struggle for us. His family sees blood as the only definer of family, and mine sees it as the people you choose to spend time with. At our wedding reception, one of the other people that had married into my husband's family came up to me and welcomed me to "The Outlaws (because we'll never be in-laws, you see)." And that's pretty much how it's been. I wasn't allowed to go to the grandfather's funeral, because those kinds of things are "just for family." And on, and on.

This causes us both a lot of issues. I constantly feel like an outsider in what should be my family. He feels like he is treated too familiarly, but can't tell my parents that he already has a Mom and Dad and doesn't need any more sets.

So, I'm curious and I want to ask you, kind readers, whether you have seen similar differences in the way family is perceived, and whether you've found creative solutions to the outsider/insider dilemma.

I'm Ba-ack!

I have finally recovered from not enough sleep and way too much alcohol. The conference went very well, and even my biggest stickler of a client laughed with me and got a picture of my team. They even joked about the project that we've been working on (and missing deadlines on) for the last 6 months.

...

The food was all really good throughout the days. I think I could have eaten 6 pounds of that spinach/avocado/tomato salad. Mmmmmm!! It was also nice to hear the customers talk about the good food after last year's complaints about the chicken on the first night.

...

On Monday night, we took them to see an IMAX film at the Bob Bullock Texas History Museum. We saw "Magnificent Desolation: Walking on the Moon 3D". The last time I went to a 3D movie, I had just finished high school. It turns out, being able to see out of both of your eyes is rather important to being able to resolve 3D images. In the previous experience, I became nauseated and had to step out. Seeing 2-3 copies of every image is very disconcerting. Well, I'm happy to report that the technology in the glasses has improved quite a bit. This time, the glasses filtered out most of the other images, and while I didn't see anything in 3D, I generally only saw one instance of the picture. Regardless, with Tom Hanks and Morgan Freeman narrating, I fell asleep about 10 minutes in, and woke up just before the closing credits. Was I drunk? No. Tipsy, but not drunk enough to pass out. Just tired from smiling and talking to everyone and trying to remember all the names and all of that.

...

My presentation during the second day of conference proceedings went okay, but I was reminded of what a boring presenter I really am. I got lots of comments about how informative my session was, which is code for "it had information, but not much else." I tried to be lively, but I really felt like I was assigned a boring topic. And when you feel that way deep down, you're pretty doomed to fulfill your prophecy. I think I've got a (mostly) foolproof way to avoid having a presentation to do next year.

...

We ended the conference on Fat Tuesday on 6th street, so that was a little crazy. After the planned festivities, a group of us ended up at the Rainbow Cattle Company for some dancing. I have to say, my first experience at a gay club went well. However, I did find myself wondering why I've never seen an unattractive gay man.

...

The Wednesday after the conference found me drinking as much water as I could possibly fit into my stomach. I spent the rest of the day (that I wasn't in the restroom from the excessive water consumption) trying to relearn how to type and fix things for customers, etc. I'm pretty well back to normal now, and getting all the things done that I promised to them during the conference. I really enjoy this conference every year, even though it generates a ton of work for us all after we get done with it. We call it our "Job Security Conference."

Heather Will Be Busy

My company's annual client conference will be going on in downtown Austin over the next few days, so I will be busy. Busier than normal, anyway. I'm checking into the hotel that the conference is in to get a few more hours of sleep between 6:30 registration table duties through to midnight (or later) schmoozing with clients. I am likely to be so tired and hungover after the next three days to not actually be able to type any entries for a while after that (or maybe that will be all I have brain power to do).

I just wanted to let you know that I haven't fallen off the face of the planet, but I will be MIA for a while. Never fear -- the randomness that is my blog will return soon enough.

Another Accident

Last night, on my way home from work, I saw all kinds of flashing lights at the same spot as the last accident I saw. The only car I saw was spun around backwards, and messed up pretty good. It was a very distinctive car -- white with a big red triangle on the hood. I had seen it earlier in my commute home, dashing past me as I started on my way north. Twenty minutes later, I found that the owner got what he/she had coming.

Now, normally, I am sympathetic to people in car accidents. I've been in enough to know how much of a pain they are (even if you're not in physical pain). But in this case, I had no sympathy. Instead, I muttered under breath, "See,if you'd just let me in back there, things would have been fine."

Shiner Update

I know I haven't spoken about the dog lately, so I thought I'd provide a bit of an update. After eating me out of house and home -- I mean, eating my house and home -- he's settled down quite a bit. I am tentatively calling him housetrained (no accidents in 2 days). He is not jumping up on people anymore, and we've found better outlets for his energy during the day when we're not home. Here's hoping he's done chewing on random fluffy things around the house. I'm running out of fluffy things for him to find.

Speaking of fluffy things...

A feral cat was in our back yard when we let Shiner out this evening. The cat ran immediately for the fence to get away, but Shiner was a little too fast, and caught up before the cat escaped. When I got to him, he had the cat by the neck and was shaking it furiously. I got his attention, and the cat managed to get away. That may be the end of our feral cat problems in our yard. And, I think I can safely declare Shiner "Not Cat Friendly." Danger to all cat-kind seems more appropriate.

This probably confirms something we suspected about Shiner's background. As a shelter rescue whose tatoos are illegible, we don't have anything definitive about the kennel where he was bred or any racing history. And since most kennels keep a pretty good handle on their animals, we thought he might have been a coursing dog. In racetrack racing, dogs are baited with a mechanical rabbit (usually just a tail attached to the inside of the oval), and they chase that, but don't catch it. In illegal coursing, the owners use live rabbits in an open field. The dog who catches/kills the rabbit is the winner. These dogs tend to be less able to happily coexist with small animals and maybe children.

I better see if I can't find a really strong muzzle for him before I attempt the introduction to small children. And maybe I shouldn't warn their mothers that I'm experimenting with their kids. I wonder, after 5 dogs, if my neighbor realizes how many times I've tried her son out as my small child measuring stick. Is that wrong? If I told people that I was testing with their kids, would anyone let me find out if this dog is okay to be adopted to a family with children?

The Godfather

My husband became a godfather yesterday. There is a lot of irony to this, since he hasn't been to church in almost two years. Call me old-fashioned, but I always thought the point of this kind of role was one of a spiritual nature. I do know that people without any religious connection use the term, but in this case it is being bestowed in a church as part of a baptism. He promised to keep this little baby in his prayers and to make sure he learned all the important tenets of Christianity. I just hope they weren't completely empty promises.

Schizophrenia Runs Rampant

Looking over just a few months of blog entries, I've figured out my problem. I have no one topic to focus on. I run my mouth, er, fingers over whatever random topic comes to mind. I've read blogs that can be characterized by one topic, and ones that tend to stick with 3-5 topics that maybe even go together. These seem coherent. Almost like novels that flow from chapter to chapter. But not mine. I am left to assume that the disorganization on the screen is a reflection of the disorganization in my mind, and that led me to the conclusion that I'm schizophrenic.

Now, I'm a highly-functioning schizophrenic, in that I can hold down a job and generally maintain friendships. I haven't needed drugs to control my disease or hospitalization to keep me from killing anyone or harming myself. But there it is -- with no focus, there must be something wrong with me.

Or maybe, I'm a hypochondriac labeler.

I Cannot...

My company has a beginner level flag football team, and we had our first game tonight. Let me give you the run-down on the things I have (re)discovered I don't do well.

• Catch a pass. I apparently am incapable of catching a football thrown to me from as little as three feet away.


• Throw a ball. I managed a weak lateral once, but there are no beautiful spirals being thrown from my hand.


• Catch a punt. I came close twice, but no actual catch.


• Run the ball. In my one carry tonight (a basic handoff play), I lost five yards for the team. Couldn't even get back to the line of scrimmage.


• Protect my quarterback. I believe he was sacked 4 times on my watch.


• Tackle. I had quite the time trying to actually get the flag, and the one time I did, I pulled the player's flag before she caught the ball, making it harder for another team member to find the other flag to bring her down.

Conveniently, it looks like I'm capable of snapping, so I might still have a future on the team. And they need four girls on the field at all times. Maybe next time we can score at least once, and finish out the game without the refs declaring a mercy rule ending to the madness.

There are a couple of things to be aware of in Heather-land: I'm not big, I'm not fast, and I have no depth perception. Not sure what made me think I could play football (and, ha ha, as a center no less??). I also always wonder about the other teams in a beginner league. They always seem like they've played before, and are just trying to clean up in the easy league. Maybe we really are that bad, so it's a good thing we all still have our day jobs.

Alert: Further Basketball Commentary

Today, another Big 12 coach appears to be reaching imminent dismissal. Eddie Sutton, coach of Oklahoma State for the last ... well, for forever, has been cited for drunk driving in an accident last week. So, while he is recuperating from the accident, the administration is deciding when to end his season.

I am certainly not justifying his behavior. I'm only commenting to wonder what is happening to the coaches in my conference? Why are they making themselves targets for mid-season removal? Are they trying to prove that the Big 12 sucks this year? Are they hoping to ensure that only the winner of the conference will get to go to the Tournament?

I do realize that my Aggies are barely marginal this year, and we'd be lucky to be picked up for any post-season anything. But I would hate for us to finally have a good record, finishing fourth in the conference or something, and then not get to go to the Tournament. I suppose that's the breaks when the conference isn't very good this year.

Alert: Basketball Commentary

Big announcement in Big 12 basketball today: Quin Snyder is resigning. After scrutiny from the NCAA last season and popular desire for him to get fired due to the number of losses in the last two seasons, Snyder and Mizzou have reached an agreement and his resignation is effective immediately. Now, it's bad enough to leave in disgrace. And worse to leave in the middle of the season. But now their acting head coach is Melvin Watkins. Now, Watkins had a great record at UNC-Charlotte, and I'm sure he knew what he was doing there. However, he couldn't do much with the 6 years he was at Texas A&M (his last season saw an abysmal 0-16 conference record leading to his dismissal). Not sure if he can coach in the Big 12. They haven't name him their permanent coach, yet, but it seems likely (otherwise why would they have picked him up last year -- head coaches don't go back to being assistants without some assurances). I hope he is able to do more in that environment than he was at A&M. And then again, maybe I don't. Two guaranteed wins each year would be nice. A&M would be more than happy to take Missouri's spot of late as 5th or 6th in the Big 12 each year, with a good chance to go to the NCAA tournament.

Meanwhile, the loss of "Coach Q" on the sidelines makes me sad, almost as sad as he made me when he cut his curly hair shorter. He's been the best looking college coach I've seen for a long time (even with his shorter hair), and I hope he's back soon. He doesn't seem to be a bad coach, and his players certainly seemed to want to play hard for him. So, it would seem he has a future, and I have a chance to keep watching.

Shiner Joins the Household

No, not the beer. Though there might be a few bottles in the fridge.

Shiner is a two-year-old brindle greyhound that just came to live with us this morning. We are fostering him to figure him out and hopefully find him a great home in the process. This is one of the first dogs I've ever worked with that is straight from the kennel to a home. Adjusting them to pet life from the racing world can be difficult. I'll let you know if anything particularly amusing occurs during the first few weeks. Otherwise it will likely be the accidents and the chewing and the general acclamation to living as a pet and not in a crate.

He seems to mostly be in pretty good shape. He's got some dry skin, and he's really skinny. Now, greyhounds look skinny anyway to people that are familiar with other big dogs like labs and retrievers. You are supposed to be able to see two ribs -- any less than that, and they are fat and bearing too much weight on their little legs. I can see 7 of Shiner's ribs. So, some fattening is in his future.

He was neutered 2 weeks ago, so at some point, I'm supposed to check and see if his stitches have already been removed, and take them out if not. Hmmmm...Welcome to the family...now spread 'em...and I need my scissors. We'll see how that goes.

Another Year Older, And Deeper in Debt

Today is the point of no return. We can no longer cancel the enormous refinance we just did to take out some money and do some work on the house. So, we went from having paid down our mortgage pretty decently to suddenly owing more than we purchased the house for in the first place. Ah, the American Dream lives -- to build more and more debt over life.

Really, this is a good move for us. We are planning some significant changes to the house that will make it more liveable and interesting, and likely to sell better in the future. Regardless, they're the kinds of things that need to be done for us to enjoy living here again. And it just doesn't make sense to move since we might only be here in Austin one more year. Yes, I know -- it doesn't make sense to dump a bunch of money in if we're going to move soon either, but we're considering being landlords, so it may not be a complete waste. Either way, there is restless energy that needs to go into some level of change, and this is a better investment than other ways to use up that kind of energy.

Personal Mayhem Diaries

Scars are journals of some of the bad things that happen in our lives. They chronicle accidents and surgeries and physical pain in life. Here's the way my scar diary might describe my life.

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When my owner was just over a year old, she was jumping on the bed, fell off, and landed on her rocking goat (don't ask -- her parents were hippies). The goat apparently had a loose nail that went through her lower lip and ripped a nice lip separation. Besides being hippies, her parents were apparently also too young and uninformed to get me stitched up. Now I am ragged-looking, but I get paler with time.

In 3rd grade, Heather was in a bicycle accident. She was racing a friend back to her house, going opposite sides of the block toward the far corner. She thought she'd be smart (like any good 8-year-old), and took a shortcut through the alley. The very gravelly alley. The knee took a few bits of gravel for a snack, and now I'm here, looking a bit like a mouth to tell the tale.

If you look at her left foot (not the movie), you'll see where she had another bike accident the next year, when I was born. She was following the same friend from the previous story when the friend stopped suddenly. Heather couldn't stop in time, and the pedal cut a nice gash in the top of her foot. She was wearing jellies at the time, so the top of the foot was exposed. I was certain I needed stitches, but again, her parents wouldn't help me. I tell them now that I would be smaller if they would have cared about medical attention for me.

I am found on the outside of Heather's right ankle. She was learning to shave. And she didn't do so well. I'm actually darker than the neighboring skin. I was the first scar to do that.

On the insides of both elbows, we are not trackmarks from Heather's heroin addiction. Regardless of any bad jokes she might try to tell, don't believe her. Instead, we are from half a dozen whole blood donations and probably 20 plasma sales. She apparently had to start selling plasma because she was in college, and was broke. The right arm was significantly juicier, so our colony is larger there.

On her left hip you'll find me, a more recent member of the family. At least I get to say that I'm the only visible scar that was created by the medical community. And there were still no stitches.

Heather is still quite the klutz. While cooking dinner at Thanksgiving, the large turkey and the small oven converged to create me on her left forearm. There were three burns during the cooking of that turkey, but I was the only one good enough to cause a scar. And, I have the distinction of being the latest scar so far.