David as You've Never Seen Him

DSL Connection not working...last day of NaBloPoMo!!!!

Sedaris Fever

One more day ... and then? Fabulous prizes!!! Then I can stop this day-by-day recitation of my life and times. At least until next week.

I just got back from seeing

(Amy Sedaris, sister of my fav author David Sedaris, of Santaland Diaries fame. (Which if you haven't read, you must go buy immediately. Or e-mail me, I'll send you a copy. THAT'S HOW GOOD THIS BOOK IS.) Amy is a very funny lady. Although since I don't get cable, I've never seen her show.)

Spinning was on the menu this morning. Class starts at 6:30 a.m. I left the house at: UPDATE:5:22 a.m. (So that made no sense. I left the house at 6:22 a.m.--See, that's why I need a medal.) And I still had to drive to work, change into workout clothes and drive to the gym. Arrival time at spin class? 6:34.

Why don't they give medals for races like that?

Though I must say that the song selection is slipping. This morning was eh. Only one Talking Heads.

In other news, David and Mrs. David are coming to a town near me this weekend and we're trying to arrange a place to go to dinner.

I have absolutely nothing left to say.

Good night!

Moving On

Is always the hardest part, but move on I will.

I woke up at 5 a.m., and was out the door by 6, and on the trail at 6:30. Always beautiful at that hour, and fairly quiet. I've been listening to The Sunday Philosophy Club: An Isabel Dalhousie Mystery and trying to take my mind off the events of yesterday, and the upcoming events of today.

Today was a hard day, and there will be more hard days to follow. But it was a good lesson for me to learn, though unfortunately it was at someone else's expense. Believe me, I learned. I learned that words can seriously wound. A lesson you'd think I'd know by this age.

In other hard things, I'm trying hard to find a bell-ringing replacement for Dec. 9 (if you know one, contact me!) so that I can go to Fredericksburg and see whose butt I can kick. Plus, I just loooong to see Susie and David.

Meanwhile, let's entertain ourselves with the thought, which is really just an inkling of a minor inclination, really just a momentary synapse, nothing more, that I just might possibly, maybe, really not sure just yet, be interested in doing, which is to say, this.

The Longest Month

Is it me, or does this seem like a never-ending (NaBloPoMo) month??

Maybe it's just me.

Something unfortunate happened today at work. By mistake, I sent a snarky e-mail about someone. I thought I was sending it to my friend, someone with whom I occasionally snark about work, and other things, but no. Instead, in my dazed state, I send it to the person himself.

This person immediately called me, was furious, yelled at me (rightly so), and will likely never trust me again.

But worse, I've hurt his feelings.

What's the solution? I apologized via e-mail, and I will again in person. But the damage has been done and I fear it's severe.

I can only hope I've learned my lesson about being snarky about other people. I can be a real ass sometimes.

Locked and Loaded

Because I cannot tell a lie, I must report that apparently 4.2 + 3.1 ≠ 8.5.

Who knew?

So, instead of doing 9 miles at altitude, or even 8.5 I did 7.3. But 3.1 of them were with the Little Dictator, so right there that = 6. Toss in the altitude, and I'm claiming 10!!!

Sigh.

Number One Daughter and I had a great weekend with Bex, but were jerked back to reality far too quickly. There really should be a re-entry, detox program for people returning from California to D.C. Honestly.

We landed at Dulles International Airport at about 5:30 a.m., ahead of schedule, and stood in line to take the bus to the parking lot that's about as far from the terminal as you can get and still be in Virginia. Like, really, really far.

When we left in the wee hours of Thanksgiving Day (last Thursday for my international readers) as NOD and I were climbing into my car (the one without a working radio) we cleverly made a last-minute tactical decision to take her car (that would be the one with the working radio) instead of mine (that would be the one without the working radio). We decided this in the parking lot. NOD's keys were upstairs in her room, but I had an extra set to her car, so all was good. (Yes, you know exactly where this is going...)

All was good right up until we de-boarded the bus to the extremely far away parking lot (if you de-plane, why can't you de-board???), wandered around looking for the car for a few minutes, found the car, unlocked it, threw our bags in and ...(The Club^TM is a really, really, REALLY, good anti-theft device. Like ridiculously good.)

Not until we were in the car did we look at each other and say, "Oh, $@!!." That's when we realized that the key to the the Club was safely at home in NOD's room, nestled cozily amongst her other keys.

But no problem! It's for situations exactly like this that I pay my yearly fee to AAA. We called and they sent a locksmith after about a 40-minute wait. He pulled out his handy lock picks.

(On sale now for that special someone.)

I watched, fascinated, because this is the part that is REALLY EASY IN ALL THE DETECTIVE NOVELS. He tried this, he tried that. He picked this way, he picked that way. And then? He gave up. He said the only thing to do was saw it off, but also said 1) he didn't have a saw, and 2) that could lead to the airbag deploying.

There was nothing for it but to re-board the bus, go back to the terminal, get more coffee, hire a cab back to Bethesda ($65, in case you're wondering), pick up my car and NOD's key to THE CLUB, and drive back out to Dulles, back into the extremely cheap and far away parking lot, back to NOD's car, where she UNLOCKED the $#!~!@ CLUB, and after more coffee, we were on our way home.

Time from getting off the plane de-plane-ing until we arrived home—for good—=5.5 hours.

Time from SFO to Washington Dulles airport? 5.5 hours.

And that, my friends, is how you do that.

No Ski But Run

Sadly, we'll be leaving beautiful Lake Tahoe later today. We had hoped to get some skiing in (like I ski) but alas, no snow, although the resorts are doing their best pumping out the fake stuff. I had hoped to spend a day falling down the bunny slope, but you will have to wait for those photos.

I woke up at 6 a.m. Eastern Time today, and am sitting in front of a nice warm fire sipping tea with Nelson at my feet while the rest of the house sleeps. This is my favorite time of day. It's about 30F outside, and feels like snow.

(Mr. Nelson, a fine, fine dog.)

Yesterday, I ran about an hour on my own, out and back. Altitude was not a problem, except for the breathing part. After an hour Bex met me and took me another 45 minutes on a rolling course, and tried her best to teach me how to run. "Match my cadence," she intoned. Many a time she was walking while I was running. That's a real upper, let me tell you. But somewhere in the middle there I got my run on and did as I was told. "Pick it up, you're slowing down!" I think Bex should start a podcast, where she barks commands into her listener's ears. I'd subscribe! I think I did maybe 8.5 miles, but I ran them instead of plodding them. I surprised myself. At one point my heart rate hit 200 bpm. But I felt fine. Except for the breathing part.

(Bex and Mr. Bex, our most gracious hosts.)

As Nelson would say, could he talk, we shall return.

Training at Altitude

We have a winner!!! Technically, it's 21st C Mom, since she guessed California a few days ago. Of course, that's kind of like guessing the East Coast. So 21st and D.C. Spinster can duke it out for the fabulous prize (TBD).

I'm here at beautiful Lake Tahoe with Number One Daugher visiting the charming Bex family. We spent a lovely Thanksgiving crashing the Bex husband's family's celebration, then drove up to Tahoe on Friday morning. It's now about 11 a.m. Eastern Time, or as I like to call it, Real Time, and the Bex entourage, and NOD, are all fast asleep.

Yesterday we hiked up to Eagle Lake, and took way too many photos. Every vista is scenic, and it's hard to resist.

(Trying to get the Christmas card shot just right.)

(Bex in the lead, as usual. It was a big-ass hill.)

(Donner Pass, where we resisted the urge to nibble.)

Today I hav 9 miles on the schedule, and Bex said she'd push me along. I've heard, correct me if I'm wrong, that training at altitude is actually good for you.

What doesn't kill you ...

Pain is just weakness leaving ...

Jeanne Is Here!

(Number One Daughter and friend)

And we have a winner!

Where Is Jeanne?

( Albert Bierstadt)

Happy Thanksgiving!

Four Things

This tagging thing is great! During NaBloPoMo at least, so that I don't have to keep thinking of fascinating things to blog about. But after November, all bets are off.. (Oh, and the contest is still on, but one person was very very close. Results disclosed tomorrow!)

First: Five miles this a.m., took about 57 minutes. Hard slog, but I kept at it. CANNOT imagine doing this for 13.1. (I do believe I've said that before. Several million times.)

On to the tagging, for whom I have LBTEPA to thank:

Four dishes I like to cook:
Well, this presupposes I like to cook. Actually, I do like to cook, but cooking for one is a drag, and cooking for me and NOD not so much fun either (one of us a vegetarian, one is not....)

But...onward!

1. Homemade yeast bread (NOT made in a bread machine). Nothing smells finer.
2. Nigella Lawson's LemonDrop. Only to be used during the off-season. Whenever that is.
3. Baking complicated desserts, such as Nigella Lawson's Chocolate-Coffee volcano cake, which she claims in her book, How to Be a Domestic Goddess, is "infant-school easy." My butt.
4. My father's lasagna.

Four qualities I love in people:
1. Must adore me.
2. Laugh at my jokes (wait: is this a single's ad???)
3. Must tell the truth.
4. Must love surprises.

Four places I have been:
1. Ireland
2. Spain
3. Canada
4. England

Four things in my bedroom
1. Books
2. Books
3. Bed
4. Clothes (really, mostly books)

Four dirty words I like to use:
1. The eff bomb
2. As in, WTF?
3. Or, simply, TF?
4. Or, F***!!

And, as is my humanitarian practice, the tagging stops here. Although if you are participating in NaBlowPoMo, feel free to consider yourself tagged.