Guest Blog

Today's blog comes to you by way of my best friend. Before you role your eyes in agony and close the tab, let me assure you that many of my friends write far better than I could ever imagine. And lest you think it's just my laziness at work, I will tell you that I did plan on writing...but she was typing away by the time I woke up this morning. And in a moment of sheer genius, the plan was hatched. We have spent the past 3 days together so her stories are mine anyway. I kinda like this idea, so perhaps you may see more of it in the future. Enjoy...







O great and wonderful jersey knit and elastic bands, how do I love thee? Let me recount the ways...

I've been best friends with the same girls for over a decade. Like a jigsaw puzzle, each of us are extremely different but fit harmoniously together as one. We've been there for each other as our parents fought brain cancer and breast cancer, divorce and infidelity, financial prosperity and financial despair. As we shift into adulthood we are sharing similar experiences as the generation that preceded us; career crisis and career shifts, marriage and near marriage breakups, health crisis and economic crisis. The puzzle pieces of our lives are falling into place and together we are beginning to form a picture of something intricate and beautiful. In the meantime, we are still proverbially spread out over the kitchen table and looking like a hot mess as we figure out where we are suppose to go.

As with puzzle assembly, sometimes you need to walk away and take a break from looking at the same pieces over and over. This weekend one of my best friends and I stepped away from the puzzling life we lead and relaxed poolside at a spa in Arizona. But I have to note that if we resembled puzzle pieces, she'd be the beautifully ornate, multi-complex, center piece that held all the other pieces together; I'd be the bottom left-hand corner piece with the trademark logo placed strategically upright, just so you can know what direction its suppose to be place. Yes, we're that different.

Different in just about all areas of life. She's a professional athlete, I'm a professional eater. She's a professional model, I'm a professional reader. She has an six-pack of abs, I have a keg o' fun. She dates millionaires, I date... uh... well, I don't date. See? We're that different.

Which brings me to joys of jersey knit and elastic bands. I was having a clothing crisis and needed serious intervention. I heard a voice from the next room and it almost made me stab my eyeball out with a toothpick, You can borrow the dress I wore yesterday. She couldn't be serious. I think it'll fit well. She was serious. Her waist is the size of my right thigh and she offered her dress to me. Maybe the sun was too much for her to handle and she's delusional now.

I stepped into the closet and pulled down the dress like Indianna Jones in the Temple of Sin, cautiously, curiously, carefully. I slipped it over my head and felt like I had just escaped the rolling ball of death because the dress fit?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!? Yes, it fit. The professional model/athlete/world-traveler had offered me the holy grail of fat girl fashion. I twirled in it. Yes, I spun around like a five year-old in her Sunday best.

I just realized that I've given jersey knit such a hard time for being cheap and made in sweatshops in third-world countries. And elastic, who knew it could make anyone feel like a model with a six-pack?

O great wonderful jersey knit and elastic band, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

Domestic Life

I’m visiting the family this week. At this very moment I’m sitting in the living room, smelling the scent of frying tortillas as my sister makes tacos for dinner, listening to the sounds of SpongeBob blare from the television my nephew is sitting two centimeters away from, and constantly on the lookout for a falling child or a missing phone as my niece makes her way around on the new set of walking legs she’s discovered. This all came after my attempt to take an afternoon nap, being that I was a bit tired after being awoken just before 8am because, you know, there are small kids around and all; Kids that do not know the first thing about whispering. This is not my comfort zone. Not even close. I’m not sure when the feelings of domesticity are suppose to overcome me, but it hasn’t happened yet.

If anyone has some insight about when this “switch” will be turned on, I’m curious to know. As a woman approaching 30, it sometimes seems odd to me that I have yet to uncover the domestic side of me. I like waking up and not having to be concerned about fixing breakfast for anyone but myself. In fact, I’m in real trouble because all I’m used to now is making my way to the dining hall and deciding what I want in my egg white omelet. And I can’t stand cartoons. The sound of them makes me head hurt. Not to mention that constant cartoons takes away from my own viewing pleasures. I’m also known to do laundry and then just leave the clean clothes in the basket and pick them out as needed. Just some of my many tendencies that do not lend themselves to being the good Sally Homemaker that I should one day be. I’m just not sure if I need time…or help!

one word

I suppose I’ve put it off long enough. It’s a little difficult to inform the world that you are traveling halfway around the world for a track meet and then never mention how it turned out. People want to hold you accountable for some odd reason. By now, people that know me realize that if they don’t hear anything, things didn’t go so well. Not that it means I’m completely off the hook, because they still get around to asking, but the smart ones know that after they receive the one-word answer, it’s better to leave it alone.

So here’s my one word…

BAD.

And if you really want to get complicated, you could say really bad. I could just leave it at that, and I wish I could, but it makes for a pretty short entry. I am not happy about it and I don’t really understand it, but it is what it is. The thing about track and field is that it’s totally objective. The numbers don’t lie. My numbers made me feel like I was back in high school. And yes, there were strong headwinds and cold weather conditions, but I wasn’t even competitive how I should have been. And not being competitive cost me thousands of dollars, another low blow if you ask me. I even ran another race I wasn’t planning on running just to try and reimburse myself after being robbed. Of course it’s not totally about the money, and it’s not even about poor performances in February and early March. I can get past that and I know I’m motivated to work that much harder in the upcoming months.

At the end of the day I am still glad I went on the trip. I spent 2 weeks in a fabulous country and I am grateful for that opportunity. I also am extremely happy with my progress in the long jump, although it did not show in the results. I fouled most of my jumps but I was nevertheless jumping far. That is the one time when perhaps the numbers did lie…just a little bit.

I was robbed.

There is a lot I need to be blogging about right now. I have yet to update on the first meet (terrible) or any of the adventures I’ve undertaken while being out here (fabulous). But all of that is being overshadowed by the intense frustration and anger I’m experiencing. Someone had the nerve to rob me. Me…of all people. I am the one person staying in this expensive hotel that does not have a dollar to spare and yet I have all of mine taken. It’s ironic really but unfortunately it’s the truth.

Here is a condensed version of the ordeal. We are staying in these extended stay apartments for the two weeks we’ve been in Melbourne and while we’ve been here I’ve kept all of my cash in my bedside drawer. I brought cash from the United States because I was unsure if we would be receiving per diem but we did in fact receive money for the entire time we would be out here when we arrived. So, I decided I would take my driver’s license, all of my U.S. dollars along with my Australian dollars and keep it in an envelope hidden in the drawer, underneath my undergarments. Every day I would take out cash for food only for that day so as not to overspend and make sure my money lasted me the whole time. Today, as we were on our way out to dinner, I went for the envelope to get out some cash and the whole thing was gone.

I have learned that there were a few other shady incidents at the hotel today that were probably related to my own, but so far mine has been the only cash they got away with. It’s a sucky situation no matter what, but it’s heightened by the fact that I don’t have money to lose. If I got robbed and I was rich then I’d just be pissed, but since they robbed me and I’m poor, now I’m screwed. Bringing cash with me from the States seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I’m kicking myself. And unlike my roommate, who spent most her per diem on an expensive purse, I was trying to be responsible and use mine only for food so I wouldn’t come out of pocket. So now I’m out a purse, food money for the rest of the week, and everything else in my pocket. This is the one time that I made the wrong choice when convincing myself not to shop.

alive and well

I didn't die. Or fall off the face of the earth. Or run off with a well-chiseled, no shirt wearing, handsome, rugged, sweet talkin' Aussie.

I haven't had an internet connection for the past five days. For me, that's kind of like going without water. Or maybe air. In fact, my sister texted me yesterday just to make sure that I was in fact, STILL BREATHING. So I just wanted to ensure anyone who cares, that I am. I made it to Sydney today and as you can see, I have once again been connected to the universe. That means more blogging, emails to those who deserve them, and facebook updates galore! Life is sweet.

I have been enjoying myself out here to the fullest and tomorrow I take a break from it all to actually put in some work so wish me luck out on the track and I will be back shortly to update you all on my life down under! Seriously though...if I find my sweet talkin' Aussie I might not come back at all.

Down Under

I’ve just spent the last two hours packing for what would seem like a 2-month trip. Only problem is I’ll only be gone two weeks. It’s ok though, I always feel better having over-packed rather than worrying that I might have under-packed. And being that I am super excited for this trip, I figured it was worth the extra pair of shoes…or three. For the next two weeks I will be down under, spending some quality time in Melbourne and Sydney. I’ll also be running in two meets but right now that seems like an afterthought. As much as I travel, it’s not often that I really get excited about going somewhere new. But Australia has been one of those places I’ve wanted to really visit for a long time, and now I have the opportunity. It’s summer season out there right now, which means they are in the middle of their outdoor season. For me, this means foregoing a trip to U.S. Indoors to run the 60 meters and traveling a little further down the track to run a whole 100 meters. It might not sound like much, but that extra 40 meters is going to be work! It’s a small price to pay however for a chance to see a new part of the world.

Without a doubt, traveling is one of the best parts of this job. I may not always appreciate it as much as I should while I’m living it, but I know that I will look back when I’m old and grey and be grateful for all these opportunities. I’m skimming through my passport right now looking at all the countries I’ve visited; France…England…Greece…Belgium…Germany…Qatar…Switzerland…Sweden…Estonia…Jamaica…Ireland…Spain…South Korea…Italy…Poland…Japan…Senegal… Czech Republic…and those are just the ones I can read clearly! And now, after approximately 20 hours of flying, I will have one more. See you in a couple days!!!

Is this offensive?

This is a cartoon that ran in the New York Post today. I've already read how Al Sharpton feels about it, and as you may have guessed, he is outraged. I think it's important to try and form my own opinions about things of this nature that sometimes may not be in line with the Reverend's. However, at first glance (and first read), I did detect racial undertones and I'm trying to figure out if that was purposeful or a misinterpretation. I know that I have a diverse group of people that read my blog so I'm wondering what your thoughts are.

**Edit: In case you don't know any of the back story, police shot a rabid chimpanzee in Connecticut for attacking a woman...so that is where the inspiration comes from, I believe.