cue the sadness...

up to this point, i've been wanting may 2010 to arrive as soon as possible. last night, though, cory played a show at mudpie, and it was indescribably fun. practically the whole PT department was there, including 3 faculty members.

it was hilarious. and amazing. and i laughed more than night than in the past week combined.

and i almost cried.

man, i'm going to miss these people.

"if you're not laughing, who is laughing now?"

let me tell you a little story about a band named needtobreathe.

i think most of the people who actually read this already know about them, but if you do not for some insane reason, stop reading right now and go listen to them on itunes. unless you can't because you're at work, and then, shame on you. go back to work.

i'm a seasonal music person; some types of music just go better with the cold weather. now, it could be that their past two CDs have been released in the fall, or it brings back memories of going to shipwrecked at furman, but needtobreathe has always been a fall band for me.

so the other day, one of their new songs, "the outsiders" came on during a run, and i had a little moment. i was running the bridges, and as i came onto the frazier side of the walking bridge, the sun was setting just over lookout mountain, and the whole sky was beautifully orange and reflecting into the river. and the normal hilarious collection of people were on the bridge: hippies playing guitars, homeless people with their pots out, high school kids taking 9834983 pictures, families coming from clumpies, etc.

i got kind of nostalgic about the past 2 1/2 years in my crazy, hilarious life in this eclectic city that i live in with all the people i've come to know and all the times i've looked around and thought "seriously: what the hell am i doing??"

and................... i'm kind of going to miss it.

the outsiders
needtobreathe

shortfalls and little sins
close calls where no one wins
stand tall, we're runnin' thin
i'm wearing thin.

oh, why are we keeping score?

'cause if you're not laughing,
who is laughing now?
i've been wondering:
if we start sinking,
would we stand our ground?
and through everything we've learned
we've finally come to terms
we are the outsiders.

i'm not leaving without a fight.
i've got my holsters around my side
just 'cause i'm wrong,
it don't make you right.
no you ain't right.

oh, why are we keeping score?

'cause if you're not laughing,
who is laughing now?
i've been wondering:
if we start sinking
would we stand our ground?
and through everything we've learned
we've finally come to terms
we are the outsiders.

on the outside
you're free to roam.
on the outside
we've found a home.
on the outside
there's more to see.
on the outside
we choose to be.



((of course, after that, "ice cream paint job" came on, and that kinda ruined the moment...))

adventures in bi-lo.... no, i'm serious.

my trip to the grocery store today was ridiculous. it's times like these that i look around and think, "really? there's no one else here to witness this?"

((first of all, prior to me arriving, dmx's "up in here" was on the radio. and yes, i still know every word. so i was in a good mood.))

now, i love grocery shopping during the day. why? well because it's all old people and little kids: my two favorite demographics. allow me to expound.

i'm in the produce section, getting some gala apples. the stormy noises start, and the inevitable sprayers come on. i look up from my apples to see a little boy hanging out of his seat in a shopping cart to stick his head under the sprayer, eyes closed, tongue out, for a good 30 seconds before his mom noticed. he was soaked at this point. hilarious.

now, i've been to this grocery store about a billion times. and today was the first day i noticed that there are quotes on the wall. random, you say? how about this little gem above the lettuce:
"it's not easy being green. --kermit the frog"

ironic, bi-lo. i like it.

next i had about a five minute conversation with an 86-year old woman about which type of sushi she should purchase. i know what you're thinking: why ask me?

"my sixteen year old granddaughter is coming to stay, and i needed a teenager's opinion."

16... 24..... definitely the same. glad to know i can still get carded for R-rated movies.

rounded the aisle from sushi lady, and the most hysterical thing i've seen in a while awaited me. miley cyrus's "party in the USA" was (naturally) playing on the radio, and as i entered the canned foods section, what did i see but a 65-year old man nodding his head like yeah... and then moving his hips like yeah.

GLORIOUS, i tell you. his wife was embarrassed. he was not. we became friends.

a couple of uneventful aisles, and i was in the deli meat section. there was a little boy campaigning for a pizza lunchable. now, i may or may not also buy these. judge me all you want, but they're good and sometimes i have to eat fast. so i attempted to stealthily snag a lunchable, but he saw me and exclaimed "SEE?!? she even eats them, and she's OLD."

apparently not, according to sushi lady. thanks, kid. ego boost.

passing by the adult beverage section, and there's a guy putting giant christmas bows on.... something, i don't know. i was looking at the bows, wondering if it was really time for christmas. apparently i was staring pretty hard because he all of a sudden starts talking to me.

"yeah, i know. my job is awesome."

sorry, bow dude. my condolences.

after exchanging a smile with miley cyrus's #1 fan over the OJ, i was ready to check out. of course i pick the slowest lane, but at this point, i don't really care. it's slow because the woman checking me out is approx 72 years old. but she's sweet, or so i thought....

i'm watching how much money i'm saving with my bonuscard (a little game i like to play), when i hear her say "oh, they'll love these. my grandkids do" as she's holding up my iced animal cookies.

"excuse me?"
"oh, do you not have kids?"

at that point, i realize that i eat like a five year old. my cart contained not only the aforementioned lunchable and iced animal cookies, but also capri suns and goldfish. whoops.

plus: identity crisis--- how old do i look to people?? i've ranged from 16 to mother of 2 in approx one hour. how is this possible.

so that was my day. someone give me a reality show, pronto. it would kill.

((bonus: when i got home, i realized i accidentally bought hint of lime tostitos instead of regular ones. i love the lime ones, but they're bad for you, so i don't buy them. my subconscious wins again.))

i may or may not have run a half marathon.

yup, i did. it was a while ago..... but i did it.


race day was perfect: a little chilly in the morning (when we got there before the sun came up), but turned into a beautiful fall day. my parents came to watch, and naturally my mom had signs. she had to resort to those because i had already instituted a balloon-ban. pat and her balloons, i'll never understand it...


i actually wasn't too nervous until we were walking to the starting line and i was suddenly surrounded by all these very athletic-looking people, and i got to wondering if i was out of my league. my favorite part was the very tall, lone kenyan man standing under the 1:15 sign with a look on his face like, "yeah, you just walk on back to 2:00".  yes, sir.


after i finished almost throwing up three times, the gun went off, and i kicked off the race with some beyonce. that's right, "all the single ladies" was my song of choice. good decision, i'd say. prosser's parents and mine had scoped out some great places along the race route to see us, so it was always great to see a familiar face (and a sign).


first 8 miles: amazing. next two miles: hell.


there was one part where my mom said, "yeah, when we saw you come in alumni drive, you looked pretty bad." thanks, mom. "but you picked it up on the way out!" yeah, a mile and a half later.


after that, it was just a battle of wills. i knew i could run three more miles, and i knew i would hate myself if i ran them super slow (up to this point, i was dead on my target pace, even a little faster). and i would REALLY hate myself if i walked. and then God told my iPod to play Vitamin String Quartet "Hallelujah". oh man, i got goosebumps. movie moment.

that last mile, we could see the lights of the stadium, and i was trucking for them like nobody's business. my feet hitting the track was the best feeling i've maybe ever had. i could see the finish line, and my dad being paparazzi right behind it, and i just booked it.





2 hours, 12 minutes, and 49 seconds. not bad for my first try, i'd say.




i still don't really believe i actually did it. i think i blacked out that morning for a while. but maybe it's like pregnancy: people say you don't remember the pain, so that you may actually do it again. and it's true, i will.


((someone remind me of that later))