Not so Soft

Although I've never been to the Grand Canyon in Arizona, I have been to Waiamea Canyon in Hawaii, often billed as the Grand Canyon of the Pacific.  Similar to the Grand Canyon, it is awe inspiring; beautiful, with amazing deep colors and impossible depths.  It is a terrific example of Mother Nature smoothing out the rough edges of the world as time flows by. 

I sometimes wonder if it's just a cruel joke that she didn't do the same to us - or to me, anyway.  Oh, I'm not talking about the transition of nice baby-butt smooth skin to the wrinkles and imperfections we develop physically over time; those are often evidence of a life well lived, and my laugh lines and gray hair are well earned, thankyouverymuch.  But that's not really where I'm going with this. 

I sort of feel like my edges get harsher as time goes on, not smoother.  My cynicism gets a bit deeper and harder to reign in, and the words that used to describe me don't cut it anymore.  I lose my patience faster than I used to, and I don't give the benefit of the doubt anywhere nearly as much as I should.  It's harder to find gentleness, and I occasionally forget that I have the ability to use tact, let alone actually use it as much as I should.

I hadn't realized how uncomfortable some simple words and/or concepts make me until I read several of them together in a book excerpt the other day.  The sentence I read used all of the following words:  creative, touch-feely, grace, gratitude, love, creativity, and authenticity, among others (yes, it was one hell of a sentence).  I found myself recoiling almost viscerally, because most of those words are not part of my daily vocabulary.  Part of it is my job - law suits don't typically inspire any sort of touchy-feely emotions; they are mostly concerned with concrete terms and facts that are either known or not.  After a while, that kind of thinking becomes a habit.  But that doesn't mean that those concepts are something I should ignore in my personal life. 

The terms above and other similar words, when taken individually, don't bother me; most of them are things I would like more of in my life.  But taken together all at once, they kind of gave me the willies.  Not sure what that says about me, but I'd say it's pretty clear evidence that Mother Nature's erosional ways do not affect me the same as they affect a limestone canyon.  Or maybe it's exactly the same, only I'm looking at it wrong.  Perhaps she wears away only the softness and leaves behind the harsher traits.  If that's the case, I'm probably screwed.

Turbulent Reentry

I've been working on a case for several months that was set for arbitration starting today.  The nature of my particular job is that I work from LR when I can, but when things heat up before trial or before an arbitration, I need to be in the office most of the time.  Hence, since January 2nd, I've been living in Houston, coming home on the weekends if possible. 

An arbitration, also known as an alternative method of dispute resolution, is supposed to be cheaper and faster than going through a full blown trial.  Usually the two disputing parties will choose an arbitrator (or a panel of arbitrators) that have some expertise in the area of dispute, and will present their case to the arbitrator.  There is no jury, and the time frames are usually much shorter.  In terms of the preparation leading up to the arbitration, however, it is about the same.  Your client  will still be stating his or her case, with perhaps a significant amount of money on the line, and the decision will be binding.  For this reason, you want to present your case the best way possible and be as prepared as you possibly can be.

Early last week, there were some rumblings about settlement, but they faded pretty quickly and everyone assumed it was off the table.  I left the office at around 6pm on Friday night, knowing we'd be meeting back up there around 10:00 Saturday morning for a full day's work.  Sunday would be much the same, and Monday through Friday would be the madness that is a trail.  These are the times you just hunker down, plow through it, and hold your breath  until everything is over and the dust settles.

I got into the office on Saturday morning, and learned almost immediately that settlement was not only back on the table, it was now almost a near certainty.  Go figure.  It's a strange situation to be in - until the agreement is finalized and signed, it's not a done deal; many settlements have fallen apart even after they appeared to be definite.  So for that reason, you don't stop working the case until everything is inked.  We basically spent all day Saturday trying to intensely prepare for the arbitration that likely wasn't going to happen, even as the settlement agreement was being negotiated.  Saturday evening, everything was finally inked and the team beat a hasty exit to get some rest and recover from the craziness that has been January.

I wasn't expected back in LR until this coming Friday, and since I drove, there was no messing with flights or anything to get back home.  The deal was inked too late on Saturday to drive home, so I stayed Saturday night with my friend L in town.  We watched a movie (True Grit, the original one), cooked dinner, drank Scotch, and generally just relaxed from the week.  Sunday morning I woke up well before my alarm went off, grabbed my things and hit the road. 

See, I didn't tell anyone at home that the case settled - I had this grand plan that I'd show up at the house Sunday afternoon out of the blue and surprise the hell out of everyone.  It didn't quite work out as I planned.

I did manage to shock my kiddos.  J usually plays tennis on Sunday afternoons, so the kiddos were  at my parents house (I let my mom in on  the surprise).  Of course, the first question was "did you bring my present?" and the second was "Where's your Ipad?", but I guess I can let that go.  They are 6 and 4, after all! 

I rounded them up and we headed towards the house.  I was thinking that I could get some things around the house picked up, maybe there was time to actually cook a decent dinner (I really enjoy cooking when I have the time), and wouldn't J be totally thrilled when he got back from tennis and figured out that he was no longer a single dad for the week?  Yeah...somehow my surprises never go quite the way I plan. 

We drive  up to the house, and J is in the driveway.  With a shovel.  Next to a huge mound of dirt.  And an exposed water meter.  With evidence of a large amount of water draining into the gutter.  NOT COOL.  I'm not sure what it is about us (or this house) that attracts plumbing issues, but this was a pretty good one.  Apparently the PVC pipe that connects our house's water to the city's water pipe had snapped, and had gone unnoticed for a couple of hours.  I'm a bit concerned about the next water bill...

So yeah, J was in the midst of dealing with that and wasn't particularly excited about anything at that point.  Even me coming home.  Maybe if I'd shown up in a plumber's truck it would've gone better...

Saturday

It's another pop tart & diet coke kinda morning.  I so love working on Saturdays...

Saga of the Frog

A cautionary tale of what happens when you take your frog to work and she doesn't behave...

Reading Madness

J gave me one of my birthday presents before I left town this past weekend.  On Saturday night, he handed me a very heavy box with the return address from Barnes and Nobles.  YAY!

So I cracked open the box among the excited chattering of the kiddos, and the box eventually revealed a bunch of exciting bubble wrap, aaaand...

The Complete Calvin and Hobbes. 

J and I both love the comic strip, and we probably have a few random collections scattered around the house.  However, these are 400+ page complete tomes, with three comic strips on each page.  Total awesomeness.  The absolute best part of this gift wasn't the actual books, though, even though I have great memories of spending long afternoons working my way through various collections. 

The best part was that B immediately grabbed one of the books, snuggled up with me on the couch, and we started working our way through the early comic strips.  That boy cackled for every strip we read, regardless of whether he understood it or not.  He especially liked the idea of Calvin ordering delivery pizza after being sent to his room for disparaging dinner.  Hmmm, I wonder if I should be offended by that..

I've been looking for something to help spark his interest in reading.  He regards it as a necessary evil, something that is harder than he wants it to be, and I don't think he's yet figured out how much magic a book can create.  Maybe this will help do the trick, and at least get him interested?  If not that, I might have to resort to the farting dog.  After all, there isn't much that is funnier to a six year old boy than that, right?

Another year...

Well, even if I'm not there, it's nice to know I'm missed.  This excellent birthday surprise showed up in my office an hour ago.  Thanks babe, looking forward to seeing you soon...

Adventures

J had to work on Sunday morning, followed by a tennis match in the afternoon, so the kiddos and I were on our own for most of the day.  We had been cooped up in the house for a day or so with the cold, nasty weather, and I figured we could all use some exercise.  So I suggested that maybe we go for a walk. 

Crickets.  Then loud boos.

Yeah.  That went over great. 

So I thought about it for a few minutes, and came up with the idea that maybe instead of a walk, we should go for an adventure. 

Bingo!  The kiddos' ears perked up, and I suggested that they should pack backpacks with compasses, binoculars, maps, snacks and juice, and Nerf guns.  You know, to shoot at the squirrels and deer we might see.  I had to reassure the girl that we would not, in fact, hurt any of the animals we might shoot (Does the nerf gun hurt you when you get shot?  Then do you think it would hurt a squirrel?).  I neglected to mention the fact that the chances of us actually seeing any animal whatsoever was pretty slim, considering the noise level my kiddos generate... 

Anyway.

We packed backpacks, bags, froggie, and snacks, called some friends to see if they wanted to come, and headed out for our adventure.  It was colder than I expected, but the idea that we were going on an adventure - with snacks! and juice boxes! - was apparently enough to convince the kiddos to play in the great outdoors for a little while. 

Our friends met us at the lake with their little boy, and we trooped all over the trail system that is out there, keeping a sharp lookout for deer and squirrels.  We didn't see any deer, but we did have several Nerf wars while on our big adventure. 

After we finished, we all trooped back to our house for hot chocolate and brownies and some much needed heat (it was COLD out there), and the kiddos continued with their original plan for the day before I so rudely interrupted - demolishing the house.  Oh well.  It was worth it.  

On the Bright Side...

So for whatever reason, I've been attracting migraine headaches lately.  I'm not sure why, I usually don't get them.  But I managed to find one on Saturday night, and it's been plaguing me ever since.  And before you ask, no, there was no red wine involved!

After I got into Houston this morning, I gave it what I considered a triple whammy - food (a granola bar), caffeine (nearly 2 cups of coffee) and two Alleve, all in the span of about 10 minutes.  If anything, the headache doubled its efforts.  Not cool.

For lunch, I decided to continue down the "kill it with food" path, and got the chicken fried chicken lunch special from the restaurant in the basement of my building.  Lots of gravy, ranch dressing, and generally bad-for-you food.  10 minutes after lunch?  I'm finally beginning to feel human again.  It's not gone yet, but it feels better than it has in 24 hours.  Of note:  sometimes there IS a good excuse for chicken fried chicken...

Yawn

6:35 is insanely early for a flight. Getting up before the time starts with the number 5 seriously sucks.

The Dark Side of the Force

Ahhh, Sunday.  It's been a good weekend so far, although I'm not sure yet what today holds...  Yesterday we did some house chores, and then I got to play a couple hours of tennis - hooray!  Of course, I sorta HURT today but that's the price to pay for not exercising more lately.  The kiddos had a birthday party in the afternoon that I arrived at late (after tennis), then we did the dinner thing and watched Return of the Jedi. 

I'm not sure if all 6 year old boys are into Star Wars, but mine is an absolute freak about it right now.  He's gotten more lego sets than should be legally allowed (ahem, that's not entirely his fault - J, I'm looking at you), and a Star Wars reference book that I think he reviews every night before going to sleep.  He had watched the original Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back, but until last night, he hadn't seen Return of the Jedi.  So we fixed a couple batches of popcorn, settled in with a bunch of blankets, turned out the lights and let it roll.  To say he loved it would be an understatement.  When he stopped asking questions long enough to watch the screen (which wasn't very often), he was enthralled.

One of B's constant questions and/or comments was whether this person or that person was a good or bad guy.  As we answered his questions, it struck me how simplistically the good v. evil battle was portrayed.  For the movie, and for B's age, it's a very simple thing - you are either good, or you are evil.  There is no in between, there is no gray area.  And yes, I know the movie is not supposed to be a great lesson in morality or a nuanced exploration of human nature, but it was still so very black and white.  If you were evil, you were evil, and that justified a lot of behavior that might otherwise be condemned. 

When you watch a lot of kiddo movies, the good v. evil conflict is typically portrayed very starkly - there isn't a lot of in between.  Swiper the Fox is bad (although he can be rehabilitated), Dora is good.  Transformers have "good guys" and "bad guys."  It's just very black and white, and while that may be appropriate for a 3 year old, I think many kids a year or two older are sophisticated enough to start understanding that it's not all that simple.  For that matter, most adults should be sophisticated enough to realize that, too, although I'm not taking that for granted.  I think the current political environment demonstrates otherwise, but that's another topic.

I'm just pondering how to start introducing more sophisticated concepts like this one to my kiddos.  Those are not easy conversations, but I can see how the opportunities for these discussions will slip by if I don't pay attention.  I need to refocus on my parenting philosophy and make sure I'm doing the things I want to do.  I think that's one of the biggest frustrations about traveling - the conversations I'm not having.  Of course, that assumes that my kiddos actually listen when we have discussions - which is probably the biggest assumption of them all!

Ponderous

Something I'm pondering this morning - is it bad when your four year old dances around the house, singing "It's fun to go to Las Vegas"?

It's Friday ... Where am I?

Well, it is once again Friday - finally!  Fortune smiled on me at work, and I managed to escape Houston and hop a direct flight back to AR this morning, so I'm home.  At least for the weekend...

No real big plans for the weekend on our end.  I think I'm supposed to play tennis tomorrow, but other than that, I'm hoping to just spend time with the family and do as little as possible.  Of course, I did make a to do list while I was sitting in the airport, so I'm sure I'll work on that some, but I'm not feeling particularly motivated.  One of the things I need to add is to find my camera battery charger!  I keep meaning to add photos to this here blog, but I ran the battery down a few weeks ago and haven't found the damn charger yet.  Hazards of the nomadic life I suppose.

Seriously, the traveling stuff is entertaining for a while, but I'm sort of wishing for a bit more stability than what I've had lately.  There's something to be said for nonrecycled clothes and predictable routines.  I just feel a little less ... grounded than I'd like to feel right now.  I feel like I'm expending so much energy and time with travel and logistic issues, other things are slipping.  I'm hoping the weekend will help me get a little more grounded back here in AR, and feel a little less nomadic.  At the very least, I guess I don't have to worry about recycled clothes here... 

Perspective

So yesterday afternoon I had my annual doctor's visit.  The "fun" that comes with these visits is offset by the fact that I absolutely love my doc.  I've been going to her for about six years now, and she delivered the girl child for me back in 2006.  She's never made me feel rushed, but more than that, she always takes 5 or 10 minutes for a personal conversation.  Not a "doctor/patient you should be doing this not that" conversation, but one where we talk about what is going on in both her and my life.  We have discussed the status of health care, my kiddos, her dogs, and whatever else comes up at the time.  She's always full of energy, engaging, and has a wonderful sparkle about her.

Yesterday, I noticed as she came in the room that she didn't meet my eyes and she wasn't as energetic as she usually is, but I didn't think too much about it, other than to register that something was different.  A few minutes later I realized that she had lost quite a bit of weight in the last year, and her hair was a different color.  She was very business like and impersonal for most of the visit, which was unlike her.  But when I mentioned her weight loss and asked how she was doing, it was like I had opened a dam.  She had had a terrible 2010.  She'd had family issues, lost one of her dogs (which are her babies), and had a strange and still unidentified illness that she couldn't seem to shake, leading to unintended weight loss.  She had been miserable. 

As we talked, she also mentioned all the good things in her life - she'd taken an amazing trip with her husband, she'd had a fabulous birthday party with some girlfriends, and she has an outstanding career that gives her a lot of fulfillment.  But the undercurrent I got was that she was reminding herself of the pluses in her life to try to push back the negatives that were threatening to overwhelm her.  Through the course of our conversation, she said more than once that she felt like she was on the flip side of the ugly, and things were getting better.  It still felt like she was trying very hard to convince herself of that, and she wasn't really sure that was the truth.

I was surprised at how sad this exchange made me.  This is an amazing, vibrant, energetic woman who was a shadow of her former self.  She was smaller, not just physically, but also in terms of her presence in the room.  If I hadn't known her for the last six years, I don't think it would have been obvious.  But the change just made me incredibly sad.  I wanted to ask her if she'd like to have coffee sometime, maybe just offer a shoulder or an ear, whatever I could do.  I'm not sure that's something you do with your doc, and I'm not sure I'm any different from her other patients, but it really made an impact on me.  There was a time when I was a shadow of a former self (although perhaps not quite as drastically, and certainly not for the same reasons), and it was such a difficult time.  I'm not sure I would have made it through without a couple of very good friends to lean on, and I always feel like I owe something of a debt for that time.  As though I received help when I desperately needed it, and it's now my responsibility to step in where I can - and it's a responsbility I'm glad and grateful to take on whenever I can. 

It feels presumptuous to reach out now, a day later; I have no idea if maybe she was just having a bad day, or if she might be embarrassed at talking about it.  And chances are, I won't see her again for another year.  But I still feel like I have a good friend going through a hard time, and there's not a lot I can do to help.  It sucks.

Treadmill Dancing

I've never been much of a dancer. I took several years of ballet and tap back when I was under 10 years old, but I'm not sure any of that actually stuck. I did the obligatory cotillion when I was in junior high, and I could probably work my way around a waltz if someone put a gun to my head.  But the very idea of voluntarily dancing - club dancing, fast dancing, line dancing, country dancing, whatever - is something I avoid unless I'm in an 'altered' state. And even then, it has to be a VERY altered state. The kind of altered state brings on a wicked hangover the next day.  I tend to avoid those states these days, so as you can imagine, my dancing is very limited.

I have several friends who love to go dancing, and I simply cannot fathom that.  My body just does not have that kind of rhythm, nor am I ever able to shake the self consciousness I feel when I attempt (and believe me, it is usually a lame attempt) to dance.  For that reason, the urge to dance?  Just does not hit me.

There is, however, one strange exception - when I run.  I got in a 3 miler last night for the first time in over two weeks, and it was absolutely fantastic.  I ran it waayyy too fast for having been sedentary for the last several days, but it felt so good to move.  I got on a treadmill at L's gym, cranked up the music, tuned out the world, turned off my brain, and set my legs loose.  Bliss.  If I could have danced on that treadmill, I would have - at least with that kind of dancing, my legs know exactly what they are supposed to be doing! 

Every now and then, I'll have several minutes of absolute and complete joy in a run (or in whatever exercise I'm doing at the time).  It's more likely on the first run back after a break, and last night was one of those awesome runs.  Maybe it's euphoria, maybe it's endorphins, maybe it's just my brain thanking me for a damn break, or my body thanking me for the exercise, but when those moments hit - I could dance down the street if I wasn't absolutely sure I'd look fresh out of the loony bin. 

As it was, last night I just cranked up the speed on the treadmill and tried not to look too insanely happy.  After all, a good number of people don't look at exercise in quite that manner - and I'm fairly certain I'd get a number of dirty looks if folks could read my mind.  I guess in the grand scheme of things, dancing during a run is probably a hell of a lot better than dancing in an altered state.  Although to some extent, the result is still the same, 'cause today?  I kinda hurt. 

Totally worth it.

Rainy Drive

I made it into Houston last night about 11:30, I'm staying in town with my friend L this week.  It rained nearly the entire trip (sigh), so the trip felt a lot longer than usual.  I was also more restless than usual - for some reason I just couldn't slip into any sort of a driving rhythm.  There wasn't any music I wanted to listen to, no podcast was quite right, I guess I was just restless.  My brain couldn't seem to focus on any topic for more than about 30 seconds (too much caffeine?), and I was just impatient.

The moral of this trip?  It's time to get back to working out.  I'd much prefer to be lazy as hell, but I'll be much happier when I start working up a sweat again, and it ought to clear up some mental logjams.  Maybe I'll be able to come up with something more interesting to write about than my daily drudgery.  Plus there's that little matter of a half marathon in about 6 weeks.  Yeeps!  That's gonna hurt if I don't get back to running asap.  13 miles is a decent distance when I have been running, let alone when I've been sitting on my ass since January 1st...

Weekend Activity

Well, let's see, it was another fast and furious weekend. Made it home Friday night in time to see the kiddos before bedtime, and crashed almost immediately afterward. It was so nice to be home...

Saturday actually turned out really busy! 4 loads of laundry and massive picking up of the house took the entire morning, then a quick lunch out, then the kiddos and I went bowling with some friends B knows from school. The snowstorm killed the battery in one of our cars so J got to take care of that while we did the bowling thing. After bowling and fro yo, the kiddos and I went out to watch J play in a tennis match, then back to the house to recoup with about 15 minutes of quiet time, and turn around and head out once again. A had a performance during halftime of the women's basketball game at UALR, then we had a last minute invite to some friends' for dinner. The kids played and screamed for about 2 hours while the grown-ups visited, and we finally called it a day around 9:30. Whew!!!

The payoff from the craziness yesterday? When I woke up at 8am this morning, I was the first one awake. SCORE! So sleeping in, followed by homemade waffles (not bad for my first try), probably a trip to the grocery store and then it'll be time to hit the road for Houston. I'd say that was a well-used weekend.

Blind Man's Bluff

So Thursday night J called me and asked me if I knew where the girl's gym shirt was. In my normal, non traveling life, that is the sort of knowledge I usually have.  But the last time I saw the shirt was last Monday, nearly a week and a half ago. 

So no, I hadn't seen the shirt. 

We talked for 5 minutes or so, brainstorming on where the shirt could be.
"In the dryer?" I asked.
"Nope, already looked there."
"What about in the clean clothes basket?"
"Nope, couldn't find it in there either."

We covered everything from my mom's house to the girl's room (a long shot - it's pretty rare that the kiddo clothes actually get put away) to her backpack and even at school.  Nothing seemed to be panning out, so eventually we gave up and conceded that she'd just have to go to her gym class without her shirt.

So yesterday morning, as I was getting ready, the phone range. 
"So, we found the shirt," J said.
"Really???  Where?"
"Well, as A was getting ready this morning, I asked HER where her gym shirt was.  She said, 'Daddy, you goofball, it's right there!'"
"So where was it?" I asked.
"In the middle of our bedroom floor, right next to where I was standing."

Apparently, it helps if you look for the existing blue gym shirt, as opposed to the white shirt that doesn't exist.

Downhill...

Wow, it's already Thursday!  I spent the time I would've normally been blogging yesterday to tweak the look of the blog.  Not sure I'm settled on it yet, but I like it better than what I had before. 

So, let's see.  I'm having a bit of a hard time thinking of things to talk about this week, I'm not sure why.  Could be because I haven't been running this week ... that's when I often come up with topics to write about.  Unfortunately, in the mad scramble to get out of town on Sunday and Monday, I left all of my running gear at home.  Boo.  So the last time I ran was New Years day - oof.  That doesn't bode well for the Little Rock Half Marathon in early March, does it.  Oh well.  It is what it is.

Last night I did manage to finish up the book I've been reading, Homer and Langley by E. L. Doctorow.  The story follows the decline of two brothers, one of whom is blind and comes to depend entirely on the other brother, who is not in anyway functional in regular society.  The caretaker brother is a hoarder, and the book chronicles the way their large mansion is overtaken in time with junk accumulated over their lifetime.  The brothers withdraw from normal life over the years, to the point where they can no longer reach the front door should they even want to leave the house.  The book had sort of a loping, waltzing cadence to it, and while I enjoyed it, it got a little monotonous at times.  So now it's time to figure out what's next on the to-read list...

I've heard the book The Little Prince mentioned several times lately, and I'm sort of tempted to pick that one up.  It's billed as a children's book, and I did in fact read it when I was a child.  I'm not sure where my copy ran off to, but I've heard it mentioned enough lately that I'm thinking it's time to pick it up and reread it, and then read it to the kiddos. 

I've also been meaning to pick up a book on running by George Sheehan, but my trip to the used bookstore this week proved futile on that front.  One of my favorite things about coming to Houston is actually the number of stellar used book stores here.  There are several in different locations of town, and it always amuses me how much the book selections in each store reflect the surrounding community.  The one in Montrose, a very liberal part of town, always has some of the most interesting social sciences books, while the one near Rice university has nearly an entire room devoted to books on the occult, witchcraft, and other interesting alternatives to religion (or whatever you want to call that).  The one I often go to in the 'burbs still has a decent selection of literature, but you can tell that the clientele is a bit more romance, mystery, and thriller based. 

Anyway, I'm staying in town tonight, so maybe I'll try the Montrose store and see what jumps out at me.  We shall see.

Definitions

So, I have an ongoing conversation with a friend about the difference (if there is any) between happiness and joy.  For some reason, I can't seem to let this one go.  Probably the lawyer in me just likes having everything neatly defined - that's how we make our living, after all!  Lots and lots AND LOTS of words.  Heh, you'd think I'd be pretty decent at my job, considering how many words I use here... 

But I digress.  One of the things I talked about in an old post was trying to remember how to find the joy in life.  Sometimes the mundane details of life are so overwhelming that I forget to look for it.  I forget that kind of emotion exists and I get lost in low level boredom and tedium.  Perhaps not surprisingly, I've been finding a bit more joy in life as I've been looking for it more.  But when it comes to describing that emotion, I have a hard time knowing what words to use.  I do, however, have a memory that is my definition of that word. 

One night back in high school, my group of friends decided to go ice skating.  No, none of us was very good, but everyone was up for going, so we trekked out to the local skating rink, strapped on some skates, and proceeded to make fools of ourselves.  At some point in the evening, I ended up skating around the rink holding hands with two guy friends of mine.  Holding one hand was my best friend at the time, a guy I talked to for hours nearly every night.  He was also the person on whom I had had a hugemongous crush but had been trying to get over for a long time because he just wasn't interested.  I had finally just about succeeded in getting over it around that time.  Holding my other hand was the guy I was about to start dating.  There was definitely some bantering going on between us, but nothing serious yet. 

The three of us stumbled around the rink, laughing hysterically and nearly killing each other multiple times as we tripped over the awkward blades.  At some point, this feeling of incredible joy came over me.  I was finally free from the annoying crush, I was hanging out with my best friends in the world, and everything - everything - was perfect.  There were no unpleasant undercurrents, no tension, just a great night out with some really good friends.  There was not one thing I would have changed, had I been given that power, and I just felt incredible.  I felt like I could fly, as cliche as that sounds.  It is one of my absolute favorite memories, and I'm not sure why it has stuck with me for so many years, but that is my definition of joy.  That is the emotion I think of when I look for the joy in my life.  I can't imagine 18 year olds have the corner on that market...

Bullet (and Other Assorted) Madness

So, in bullet form, here is the craziness that was this weekend.  If you don't make it through to the end?  I don't blame you. 

• Friday night, work late, can't get back to AR, stayed in Houston.  Made crucial error of having some red wine with my friend M on Friday night.
• Saturday morning, start the drive about 7:30 and realize red wine from the night before is about to cause a migraine.  Great.
• Saturday afternoon, get in about 2:30, eat pizza J has warmed up for me, and crash on the couch with A for the next 4 hours watching movies, hoping headache will eventually give up.
• Saturday night, get up, make dinner, have a nerf war (parents v. kids - I think parents won).  Still trying unsuccessfully to kill the migraine.  Note to self:  shrieking and running around in a nerf war may be fun, but is not good for killing headache.
• Late Saturday night, realize that the weather really is going to get bad on Sunday with much snow, and start to stress about getting back to Houston.  Headache gets exponentially worse.  Write whiny blog post.
• Sometime in the middle of the night:  get up and take medicine for the headache from hell.
• Sunday morning, lie in bed as long as possible, wishing head would just go ahead and explode instead of punishing me for something I didn't do.  Ok, maybe I did do it, but I didn't overdo it!  Stupid red wine...
• Sunday morning, finally get up.  Take more medicine and pound two cups of coffee in rapid succession.  After being awake for an hour or so, headache finally abates and I can actually start thinking clearly again.
• Shit. 
• 11am Sunday Morning, T-minus 2.5 hours until birthday time:  The list of things to do is incredibly long, I don't have time to do them, I'm woefully unprepared for B's birthday party that afternoon, I'm not packed, it's going to snow, we don't have milk, we haven't wrapped any packages, and I can't make up my damned mind about whether to fly or drive.  At least mother nature took care of one of those things for me...
• Sunday afternoon:  party is a success, but everyone beats a hasty exit to avoid the snow that has started.  Everyone except us, of course.  Leave the party at 4:00pm, get caught in the major snow, don't get home until after 6.  Get frightened by the number of idiots on the road who have no business being out there.  Seriously - the group of guys pushing the pickup up the hill at Camp Robinson, using bits of chain wrapped around the tires (not tire chains - just lengths of chain that were tied on the tires) and running around barefoot really took the cake.  Flight that I had booked for 6pm doesn't even come close to happening. 
• Sunday night, stress levels achieve nearly record heights.  Feeling like the slacker of the group for not being in the office all weekend like the rest of the team has, but priority went to my boy's birthday party.  I made the right decision, but that doesn't mean that it didn't cause stress.  Hello rock, meet hard place.
• Realize I'm going to have to take a 6:30am flight out of LR Monday morning, which means leaving the house around 4:30am (roads totally covered in snow, not going to be a fast trip).  Bundle kids up around 9pm, take them to my parent's house to spend the night so they don't have to get up crazy early and make the possibly treacherous drive to the airport with J and I.  Spend several minutes cussing my lack of preparation as I get them packed - one kid has only one glove (J went through the entire entry way closet - where the hell do gloves go to die, anwyay??), there are no scarves, they only have snow boots 'cause my mom bought them some, and they really have no clothing that is great for playing in the snow.  HUGE parenting fail. 
• Sunday morning, get up well before it's light out, get dressed, get out to the airport, wait for the flight that was delayed an hour, and finally get down to Houston around 10:30 this morning.  THANK GOD that weekend is over. 

So, here we are today.  Enough with moaning and complaining of the weekend, right? As one of my coworkers said last week, I just need to put my big girl panties on and suck it up.  I'm in Houston for the week, most of January in fact, and that's just life right now.  So deal.  And I will - this time, without the red wine.

Weary

It's been a long week, and feels like an even longer weekend, even though it's only Saturday night.  I ended up working too late last night to get back to LR, so I drove home this morning.  I need to be back in Houston on Monday, but B's birthday party is tomorrow, so obviously I can't miss that.  The fun part of all this is that we're expecting several inches of snow tomorrow, so driving back is not going to be a good option.  I've got a flight booked tomorrow night, but I'm not thrilled about the flying part.  I'm not a good flyer in great weather, let alone in the middle of a freakin' snowstorm.  I just need to suck it up, right?

Anyway, I'm just in a crappy mood.  These are the days when the traveling gets the best of me, and it doesn't quite seem worth it.  The complications, logistics, and crap that come with it just make me feel tired and out of balance.  I'm sure it'll get better when things slow down, but that somehow doesn't make right now any easier.  Blah. 

Car Talk

My first car was a Honda Civic that I got back in high school in the early 90s.  I was very fortunate to have it, but I'm pretty convinced my parents bought it to preserve my mom's sanity.  I'm sure she was thrilled to get a break from hauling my ass everywhere...

Once I received that car, I made the obligatory promise to myself to keep the thing clean, well preserved, and neat.  That lasted about 8 hours; apparently my normal state is chaos, at least when it comes to a car.  No matter how much I tried, I could not keep that car neat.  There were school papers and books, napkins, tennis rackets, clothes, and all manner of other crap that accumulated in the trunk, back seat, and front seat of that car.  I assumed at the time that once I was a "grown up," I would probably keep my car much nicer and cleaner.  You know, 'cause that's what adults do.

Right. 

I don't think I've kept a car clean for more than a few days in my entire driving life.  It's just not in my makeup.  The people whose cars always are immaculate baffle me - I just don't live like that.  My life is not immaculate, and my car sure as hell isn't.  It would almost be hypocritical for me to have a clean car, really.  My life is hectic, frantic, messy, disorganized, fast moving, a little worn around the edges, and my car reflects that quite nicely.  It's comfortable. 

There are typically several items in my car on any given day:  tennis rackets, a pair of jeans, a pair of tennis shoes, a container of work papers, a diet coke (or several), two car seats (I won't even go into what all is involved in that; half eaten pancakes are usually the least of my worries there), socks (of varying sizes), softball equipment (cleats, bats, or glove, or all three), and the occasional detritus of fast food meals that haven't yet made it out of the car and into the trash can. 

The plus side of this rather messy situation is that I'm usually ready for anything.  Take today, for example.  I've been in Houston since Sunday, and have slept in my normal bed at my friends' M&G's house exactly twice (that's my home base when I travel, and they are rock stars for letting me crash there regularly).  My suitcase, some work clothes, and other assorted stuff are currently residing at their house, although I haven't slept there since Monday night.  As I'm talking on the phone to J this morning, he asks if I really need to stop there on my way out of town tonight.  Well, of course I do - I need to get my stuff, right?  Then I pause and think about it.  J is right.  Everything I could possibly need for the next several days is already IN THE CAR.

I guess it's time to clean the thing out again.  But thinking positive, that's one less stop I'll have to make on the way home.

Days Fly By

So let's see, day #4 of being in Houston.  My average hours of sleep per night has decreased, as have my number of times running.  Sigh.  I don't know why I bothered to even pack running clothes. 

On the flip side, though, it has been a fun week.  I've hung out with friends quite a bit, gotten a lot done at work, but I'm nearly ready for the week to be over.

The week in review, so far:

• Monday, stayed out far too late with a friend, catching up and overindulging slightly.  Well, I overindulged slightly, anyway... 
• Tuesday, watched the Sugar Bowl (ARRGH) with a group of friends.  If only the defense had shown up for the first half, or the receivers had washed the butter off their hands before the game.  But at least they were able to put together a decent second half and make a game out of it, right? 
• Wednesday, stayed the night at the hospital with a good friend who had her baby yesterday. Wow, I had forgotten how tiny tiny they are, and all the faces they make.  So incredibly cute, too.  Chubby cheeks already, and teeny tiny toes.  So sweet.  And NO, it does not make me want another one.  Two is plenty, thankyouverymuch.
• Tonight, unknown as yet.  May hang out with a group of friends, may completely crash. 

So, time to get some work done.  Hoping to put together a more substantive post in the next day or so, but my brain is a little frazzled and not quite clicking on cylinders right now.  Oh well, sometimes there are weeks like, right?  Also, I really do want to try throwing some pictures out here more regularly...we'll see if I can make that happen. 

Sounds Funny to Me

I wanted to post a funny story J told me about the girl the other day.  Apparently she was eating an orange and making shapes with her orange slices; J was trying to guess the shapes.

A:  "What's this, daddy?"
J:  "That's the letter Y."
A:  "Yes!  What's this one, daddy?"
J:  "That's a smiley face."
A:  "And what's this one?"
J:  "Uhhhh..."
A:  "It starts with a whu whu sound."
J:  "Uhhh, the letter W?"
A:  "Nope.
J:  "Ummm ... OK, I don't know."
A:  "You're supposed say you give up, daddy!"
J:  "OK, I give up.  What is it?"
A:  "It's a wainbow!!"

Irresolutely Yours

Or, My Take on New Year Resolutions.

I don't do them.   

Ok, that's not entirely true.  Years ago, I would occasionally throw out the random "wouldn't it be nice if I did this during the next year," and then I'd promptly forget about it a few days later.  But eventually I gave that up (it was pretty useless anyway), and for many years, I refused to even consider resolving anything for the coming year.  Apparently I thought I was perfect and didn't need to improve on anything.  (Obviously not true.)  Or I was too lazy to mess with it.  (Probably closer to the truth.)  Over the last few years or so, though, I've actually had the same goal, and for various reasons, this year I think I managed to accomplish that goal.  No, it wasn't anything discrete or easily measured (lose X pounds, get rid of Y things that clutter my life, etc.).  It was a lot fuzzier than that, which could make you wonder if you've really accomplished anything at all...but it's my goal, and I say it's accomplished.  So it is.  Which is great, and actually a bit of a surprise, but now I'm left wondering whether I should put a few more goals in place for myself, despite my general lack of self discipline.

I've mentioned before that I'm not great on self discipline these days, and I feel like a nice, discrete goal (run a marathon in 2011, read X number of books, quit drinking caffeine, whatever) would just be a setup for failure.  My life is too fluid and unpredictable most of the time to allow for a lot of scheduling, and I don't really have the drive to set anything like that in front of me right now.  Plus, I find that my interests wax and wane over long periods of time - for example, sometimes I'll go through phases where I read 10 books in a month, and then not another book for several months.  My level of enjoyment of the activity depends on the level of interest I have - if there's a feeling of "I should" rather than "I want," it most likely won't end well.  Wait, isn't the definition of self discipline something along the lines of making yourself do the things you don't want to do?  Hmm, and didn't I say something about lacking self discipline above?  

I guess I feel like I need to know what my motivation is before I can transfer something from an "I should" to an "I want."  And that involves more big picture thinking than a discrete resolution sometimes requires.  I guess maybe I'm thinking that if you set a broader goal, some of the smaller things should (will?) take care of themselves.  Maybe that's more of a shotgun approach as opposed to a sharpshooter approach, but it makes more sense to me.  It's also completely counter to what you are supposed to do with goals (break them down into manageable chunks with smaller milestones), but if your broader mindset is where it needs to be, the details should take care of themselves, right?

I know there is certainly room for improvement in my life.  Perhaps some folks would say significant room...but that would be a totally different post.  So while I'm not exactly setting a resolution this year, I do have something I want to focus on, a new goal if you want to call it that.  And, like the last one, it's pretty fuzzy, so I'm not sure how you give it a beginning or an end.  But maybe it's enough to acknowledge it and remind myself of it every now and then, and hope that it will begin to influence my decisions on a regular basis.  I'm good with baby steps here; sometimes the painfully slow, almost unnoticeable changes are the ones that result in the largest, most satisfying results over time. 

So here's the theme for the upcoming year (or however long it takes for me to be satisfied with it):  raising the bar.  Raising my expectations of what I expect out of myself.  I've mentioned before that I feel like I've been sort of lazy for a while - not in the "sit on the couch all day" way - that typically doesn't happen unless I've overindulged a bit the night before.  More in the "I could do a better job at X, but I'm too lazy" kind of way.  We only go around once, and as I get older, that idea comes to my mind a little more often than it used to.  Why not kick some ass and accomplish a few things this time around - assuming I can pull myself out of the The Lazy.  So there you go.  That is the theme or goal or - ok, if you must - resolution for the foreseeable future.  We'll see how it goes...

Not a Morning Person

Holy cow, I thought things would slow down after Christmas and I'd be able to post more, but the crazy kept right on chugging through New Year's Eve and New Year's day.  Between lots of activities going on, kiddos being at home, and lots of cooking to be done, I hardly had time to think, let alone write!

But today is a new day, the first Monday of 2011.  Back to the routine, back to school for the kiddos and work for me.  Well, back to the travel routine anyway.  I drove down to Houston last night and will probably spend most of the week here.  It is shaping up to be a crazy busy week, but what else is new?

I'm working on a post about new year's resolutions, even though I suppose I'm a bit late for that.  Oh well, whatever.  It's still January, right?  I've got some thoughts about the upcoming year, but that'll have to wait while I take care of the business of the day.

Oh, and that whole getting out of bed early this morning because it's Monday and I have to go work?  That?  Seriously sucked. 

Year in Review (Exercise Edition)

Well, let's see.  The year in numbers.

• 123:  the number of days I exercised this year, or right at 34%.  I'm pretty happy with that number.   
• 357.6:  the number of miles I ran this year.  I'm ok with that number, although I wish it had been higher.  However, the four months with the highest total number of miles were January at 63 miles (right before I got injured), November at 44, December with 36, and October with 33.  That's a good trend for the last part of 2010, and explains why the run today was faster than I expected - I've actually been putting some miles on my legs, despite falling off the wagon a few times.
• 1:  Half marathons run (back in March).
• 36:  Days I played tennis in 2010.  That's probably fewer days, generally, than when we lived in Houston, but I think I played better tennis.  Still, I'd like to get that number up a bit more this year.
• 1:  Number of crazy ass folks around here who keep track of their exercise throughout the year.  Guilty as charged. 

Happy New Year!

Trying to start out the new year right, heading out for a run in a few minutes.  Probably won't be very long, but a good 3 or 4 miler ought to feel pretty good after doing nothing  but sitting and eating for the last several days!

Update:
4 miles done, somewhere around a 10:30 average pace, which is pretty good for one of my "easy" runs.  It was a bit chilly today - probably around 40, nice brisk breeze, but once I got into the run, the chill wasn't too bad.  It always feels so good to get back out there after taking some time off, and I was able to clear out some cobwebs that have appeared over the last several days.  And I'm really happy about that pace.  I'm certainly not fast, but a 10:30 pace when I'm running easy tells me that the few runs I've been doing lately have been paying off.  

Second Update:
Apparently I ran a 10:15 pace - sweet!