Fantastic Day

Yesterday, what a day. I began by running 2 miles then swimming a mile; it was my mom's birthday; I played outside with my 2 sweeties; we put an offer in on a new house, and the health care bill passed the Senate. Avengers of change!

Change is frightening, I guess for some, but I can't see past those 32,000,000 (so many zeros!) people who will now not live in fear of visiting a goddamned doctor. It's time people stopped rocking in their front porch rocking chairs wondering what's on the other side of the hill (or in Indiana, the street). It's called the world: better wake up and join it.

For my single-mother friends raising kids alone; for the people I know who lacked sufficient coverage or had pre-existing conditions; for my friend who died at age 24 from testicular cancer because he couldn't afford health insurance; and for my dad who, by proxy, visited him several times in the hospital, even though he'd never met him, simply because I couldn't bare to see a friend waste away, this day was for you.

And as for the Republican naysayers, you can kiss my grits.

Rent the Rug Doctor

Swam 1.25 miles today, which doesn't sound like a lot more than 1 mile, but it was an additional 8 laps, down and back (16 laps). I was feeling competitive with Speedo Girl next to me, who was actually a much better swimmer...at first. She gave up at a mile, so, of course, I had to continue.

I need to find a new swim cap that holds all of this hair! I pulled it off several times during my swim, and I tried to swim without it, but so much hair in my eyes. Finally, I pulled it over my head leaving my locks flowing out the bottom, kind of like a mullet. I looked like a pro, for sure.

I've noticed that swimmer girls have short hair. Me no like short hair. Moms also have short hair. I like throwing it all into a ponytail, which I suppose means I should just cut it all off. But no way.

I went to Walmart today (God, I hate that place) to buy a small swimming pool for Gertie to run around in once in a while. I asked a lady who worked there for help. She said, and I'm NOT kidding. "That's a great idea. Maybe I should buy one to use as a littler box for my possum" (Or is that opossum?). She told me that it was blind in one eye. I ran to my car... fast.

I Rug-Doctored the entire house today, too...just for fun. Matt just handed me a glass of wine, he's cooking dinner, and Sam's hanging onto me hoping to watch Youtube. Life's good!

Swim Fatigue

I ran three miles yesterday, and swam a mile today. Sam and I both took 2-hr naps today. My brother told me to buy blue goggles, after I bought black ones. I like them, they're very clear, but both of my eyes look bruised after I've worn them for a while. You can't swim and plan on going anywhere important right afterward. My swim cap won't stay on because of the mass of hair I have, either. I need to work out these kinks.

Swimming kicks my butt, and I love it. Back Thursday.

New Sport

I pulled out my old one-piece swimsuit last night and tried it on for Matt. Some laughter followed. It's at least 15-years-old (maybe more) because, who wears a one-piece? Well, I do now that I'm swimming at the gym! I ran 4 miles yesterday, and that glistening 5-lane lap pool was calling me. I bought some new black swim goggles and a black cap last night to match my 15-year old black suit. Matt said, "You look really cool."

Well, I did look pretty cool once I was swimming. As my brother says, "Muscles have memory." I swam 3/4 of a mile, which is no small feat after at least a 10-year hiatus from serious swimming (splashing around with Sam at the Monon Center and drinking margaritas in Matt's parents' pool notwithstanding).

I loved it. I swam pretty fast; swam right past the girl who chose to wear her bikini, right past the lady who swam with her head out of the water and never once cupped her hands. My heart was racing...and no sweat! I'm thinking a Masters competition is in my future. I wish I liked riding bicycles (I really don't), because maybe a triathlon for this old lady is in order. I must always keep up with Jason.

My two new favorite words from Sam: Lassy Tappy (Laffy Taffy) and Dunk Trup (Dump Truck).

Ma Bell

Sam's sick, asleep on the couch. I've already done a million things today and I found a free moment. "Well, hello, free moment," I said, and then WHAM! The phone rang. Every afternoon, right at the start of my free moment, the phone rings.

I hate the phone. I want the phone out of the house. I never answer the phone.

We have a new gerbil named Gertie. Sam's a little fearful, and he says, "Tiny toenails, tiny toenails!" She's really Matt's pet (oh, man, I thought I was!).

She's asleep in the cage next to me.

I'm unplugging all of the phones and going to greet that free moment with a smile.

All in the sauce

I'm cooking stuffed chicken with homemade bechamel sauce, drinking a glass of champange... and it's only Tuesday.

Matt and I celebrated two years married (five years total), and I'm sitting here thinking that life's pretty grand. I consider every other relationship such a waste of time, but that's because I hadn't met Matt yet. We all make stupid mistakes, I just dated more than he did. : )

I've found a friend in the neighborhood who can transfer old videos onto DVDs, so we've been having some fun with this! Except that I learned that Sam's first birthday party DVD wasn't properly formatted, and blank thusly (nonstandard variant, just like 'thusly'). Matt just shakes his head at me.

Man, this champagne is spectacular.

I'm planning my next trip, planning my next trip, gotta go, gotta travel, planning my next trip. Matt just went to Miami Beach (rotgut, been there a hundred times), but I'm focusing on the magnificent. I also have enough miles on my credit card to go around the world...maybe twice. I've NEVER used my miles. I'm sickeningly patient. But no more waiting. And no more jaunts to Chicago or DC...I'm over those. I want Europe. I want Envoy Class and Five Stars. I want a captain, a chef and a maid, a sommelier, five-course meals and champagne for breakfast.

Oh golly gee damn!

I want to go put my arms around my sick little boy, and stir my bechamel sauce, keep dreaming...