The week in summary

Behold,

A summary of one aspect (or two) of my training this week...

A summary of my eating habits this week...


The sum of these parts equals a whole...

A great, big, sad black hole.

I hate these kinds of weeks.

How is it possible for me to have so much discipline in one area of my life while failing so dismally in another?

1 of 3 Things

An excerpt from a gchat conversation with Katie earlier today:

Julie: our random conversations = I love
Katie: but have you ever noticed that most of our "random" conversations come back to 1 of three things?
speedos
poo
cookies
Julie: (or raisins)
and yes
I love that they all degenerate into some form of that
Katie: entropy.
its inevitible.
Julie: it's going on the blog
Katie: I can't wait.

Some explanation, simply to enhance your enjoyment of the confession.

1. Speedos: Katie and I discovered our shared...non-aversion to speedos one evening during one of those "we're-so-tired-we're-delirous" girl-chat moments. I don't think I should share anything beyond that.

2. Poo: Katie and I have been training partners for 3 years now and have shared a lot of...moments. One thing about training is that all sense of propriety goes out the window. (Mostly modesty and things like that.) Along with bad behavior comes somewhat inappropriate conversation. We sort of talk indiscriminately about things that probably aren't considered polite and almost inevitably it degenerates into poo-talk of some kind. I won't sell either of us out beyond that, but let's just say one of us is always happy to see a port-a-potty and one of us wishes the body would cooperate to make use of it. Both situations create plenty of running drama and lots of funny stories. Most of which should not be shared outside of the car...if at all. Add in the hospital drama from last year, and the fact that Katie is a doctor, and, yeah...poo: it's always funny. To us anyway.

3. a. Cookies: Really? Do I have to explain this? b. Raisins: Take all my blogs about cookies and substitute the word "raisins" [shudder for the momentary blasphemy] and you've got Katie's world. Her raisin-love is equal to my cookie-love. It's really quite shocking.

On a totally unrelated note, and not that you really care anyway, but this is my 100th post. The blog is coming up on its 1 year anniversary too. Have I really been allowing you all this window into my life for so long? Amazing. And quite possibly very stupid.


Poo! Cookies! Speedos!

Ha ha. [sigh] They will always be funny.

Just one of the many perks of living in D.C.

Sorry for all the local friends who don't really care about seeing my inauguration photos or hearing about my day in the city, but my family and out-of-town friends have requested some details and I figured the blog was the easiest place to do this. Feel free to skip this post if you're on Obama Overload.

One of the many perks of living in D.C. is the fact that I didn't have to pay an arm and a leg to rent a hotel room in D.C. for inauguration. (The downside is that I pay an arm and a leg to live here year-round.) I live just about 5 miles from my office, which is directly across the street from the White House. It's pretty neat. Sometimes I forget how great it is to live in such a place. But this week I was reminded as I watched tour bus after tour bus invade our town in the tourist off-season.

Because of our awesome office location, we always have a huge party for our clients for inauguration. I worked last time. I was supposed to go to work this time. But my boss couldn't decide whether or not he wanted/needed me. Ultimately he left it up to me. I was conflicted up until the moment I met up with my friends to catch a bus into the city. Once we got into the city and on the wrong side of the mall, I knew I was committed to not going to work and started to feel really excited about the day!

I'm a local, therefore I do not need signs like this one to tell me which way to go.

Also, I look super fat in this picture because I have wool socks and emergency food hiding in my puffy coat.

As we approached 14th St., I decided to turn around and see what was behind us. I couldn't believe how many people had streamed in after us (the crowd in front of us wasn't nearly as thick and compact).

This is the scene we were greeted with as soon as we turned onto 14th St. We were playing the lemming game, basically just following the hoardes of people to wherever they were letting us onto the mall. You couldn't really see anything so you had to trust that someone was driving the boat. Dangerous assumption.

I was with about 7 or 8 friends at this point and Friend Mary, ever the organizer, created a chain to get us into the crowd together. Let's just take a moment here to acknowledge my fairly severe claustrophobia. I'm not sure what I was thinking (the last time I ignored a warning from an organization regarding event conditions I ended up in a medical tent with hypothermia...you'd think I'd learn), but I wasn't really anticipating the crush to be SO bad. I was fine until it required me to sort of pop through the crowd with the aid of my slippery puffy coat. When I looked up and saw how many people were surrounding me, the rushing in my ears began, along with some hyperventilation, followed by wave after wave of nausea and the absolute surety that I was going to die. Soon. All it would take, I thought, was one moment of panic in the crowd, one pipe bomb, one bomb scare even, and a stampede would ensue, and surely I would be one of the fallen. Then, the worst happened. Katie and I got separated (we were supposed to be travel buddies). I managed to turn around and give Jay a look of panic, who in turn informed Katie that I was in trouble. Katie gave me the "secret call" (which would have been funny in any other situation) and then barrelled through the crowd to get to me. After a little water, a little food, a tiny bit of personal space, some prayers, a miracle phone call to Mom, more prayers, more tears, and a game of gin rummy, I managed to take out my camera to document what had me all panicked.

That front-and-center guy who looks very intimidating was actually very nice and my best bodyguard. He was no shorter than 6'6". The woman next to him in the green beenie was awesome. She had on this very impressive green eyeshadow that matched her Obama beenie along with enormous false eyelashes.

This is me pretending I'm really happy to be standing where I am. You can see in this picture just how tall my "bodyguard" was. There was an equally tall man standing in front of me as well. Bless them. Tender mercies, people.

Once I regained my senses, I was able to more fully take in my surroundings. We were surrounded by very excited, very exuberant Obama supporters. The majority of our new friends were African Americans. I am optimistic about this presidency and it felt good to be there knowing that the guy I voted for won. But to see their excitement and to feel of their energy, I knew that it included a whole other dimension I would never know. I know what it feels like to be marginalized as a woman, but have never known what it feels like to have race added on top of that. I know that much has already been said on this topic, but I was moved to see what this meant for them.

We had to stand in the cold for about 3 hours but everything but my feet stayed pretty warm (thermal garments+puffy coat=warmth). I was highly entertained by the two prayers offered, thrilled to "hear" Yo-Yo Ma "live" (you can't expect instruments to perform well in that kind of weather. I don't blame them for dubbing their performance), and appalled by the lack of respect for President Bush when he was announced (I mean, I didn't love him as a president but I am going to clap out of respect for enduring a hard, crummy job for 8 years).

Beginning of political talk--After the bobbled swearing-in, I waited anxiously to hear what our new president would have to say to us. I wondered if he would give into soaring rhetoric or if it would be a speech rooted in action. I think it was a mixture of both. I know a lot of people took issue with what was said, but I was both impressed and moved by his words. I felt like he managed expectations, said some hard things, and put a lot of responsibility on the people. Some said that was a cop-out given the campaign he ran, but I don't think so. Our country is only as good as its people. We do need to step up. I can honestly say that it was the first time I can remember being moved to tears by a secular speech. I may not agree with all of his politics, but I had the impression as he spoke that he is the right man for us right now. You may not agree with me and that's okay, but it's my blog and I can say what I want. :P --End of political talk.

One of my fears during my panic was how we were going to get out of that mess. Katie assured me we would wait until the crowds died down before we attempted the walk home. But it was COLD. So we spent some time in front of the Washington monument getting the blood back in our feet.

Still too crowded to walk home.

We decided to take some pictures. :)

Someone came along and offered to take one of all 5 of us. Then a few people came along and took our picture with their cameras. A little weird, but kind of funny.

This is my favorite one of the bunch, mostly because my friend Dave has some serious air and style. He says it's because of his ballet training. :)

All in all, it was a great experience. I don't know if I will ever brave the mall again for inauguration, but I can tell my children and grandchildren that I was there at least once for a peaceful transfer of power (from a white man to a black man no less). You've got to admit, that's pretty cool.

Thursday's wish

Thursday's Wish:

That every workday could be like today.

Early this morning: I got to go swimming with three of my favorite people in DC. Even though a couple of them are far too chipper for that time of the morning :) I love them a lot and am grateful for their friendship.


Later this morning: I got to commute into work with Katie. We laugh a lot together, but this morning we also talked about some more sober things on our minds. I'm so grateful that I have a friend with whom I can laugh as well as talk about the weighty matters of life.


Lunchtime: Katie is working just three blocks from my office this week. We met for a last-minute impromptu lunch at ABP which proved to be the best decision of the day. We got all of our somber talk out of the way this morning. Lunch was solely for the laughs. A taste of our conversation:


J: Sometimes I have a hard time feeling like a girl. Too often I feel like I get treated like one of the boys.
K: That's ridiculous.
J: Yeah, I know. I need to get over that feeling. M told me once that I could be quite sexy when I wanted to be. I found that kind of funny.
K: That's hilarious. Did he point out anything in particular?
J: Oh no. I knew exactly what I was doing when I was doing it.
K: Then why can't you do that now?
J: Because when I was doing it then I knew he was looking.
K: And now?
J: No one is looking.
K: Ah. Sort of like if a tree falls in the woods...
J: Exactly.
K: Maybe you should invite someone into the woods.
J: I'll post an advertisement on my blog. How do you think that would go over?
K: I'm sure you'd have some takers.

This afternoon: I've kicked my workouts up a notch the last couple of weeks and as such have had a greater need for hydration. Of course, that also necessitates more frequent trips to the restroom. Three this morning, in fact. I know, overshare Julie, but it's pertinent to this story. We have automatic faucets in the restrooms but every time I have walked into the bathroom today the faucet I usually go to has not been working. In a hurry to get back to my desk, I have just shifted over one sink, washed my hands, and moved along. However, after lunch, I had to go yet again and stuck my hands under the same non-functioning sink (habits, people, habits) and in frustration finally took a moment to look down to see what the matter was. Well, remember when I had to give my input on the faucet's in the ladies' bathroom? Well yeah. I thought that issue had been resolved a long time ago but apparently not. They switched out the faucet yet again to an antique looking double-handled hand-operated faucet. I laughed outloud in the bathroom thinking about how dumb I have looked all day sticking my hands under a non-automatic faucet, waiting for water that would never come, and then moving to the next sink without even stopping to consider why there was no water flowing. I really do get a kick out of things like that.

Currently: Breaking my no-sweets-at-work rule. Mint 3 Musketeers are so much tastier than I thought they would be.

Thursday's Wish

Thursday's Wish:

That companies would quit overcharging me for their services. Honestly, how difficult is it to calculate the charge for a 10' moving truck, 7 miles driven, and a full gas tank upon arrival? I'll give you a hint: it's not double the amount quoted. I promise.

I would like someone at this company to please pick up the phone so I can get my money back.

I made a phone call on something else last week and got that all cleared up, money credited back to my credit card, easy peasy done. I have a feeling with this one it's not going to be quite that simple...Just a feeling...

Gold Star Wednesday

Today's gold star goes to:

This morning's metrorail conductor.

Things I learned on my ride in this morning:

1. That beeping sound you sometimes hear when your metro conductor announces your arrival at a station is the system telling him he's speeding.

2. There are 24 doors on an 8-car train, 16 on a 6- car train, and they all open for your convenience.

3. The 6-car trains are stopping at the same place as the 8-car trains right now, so position yourself accordingly on the platform so you don't miss your train.

4. The reason there is almost always a delay coming from Rosslyn to Foggy Bottom is because (a) there are two lines coming together and (b) traffic always gets a little backed up downtown.

5. You should not play near the edge of the platform. Ever. The trains come into the station anywhere between 25 and 42 mph. If you are standing too close, the conductor will honk his horn at you (as he comes speeding into the station, apparently).

6. He is nice. He said so himself. It was because he opened the doors an extra time for customers to get on.

I'm not kidding. He talked the entire ride in. I was cracking up. I don't know if anyone else was paying attention. I looked around to see if anyone was as tickled as I was for such an entertaining ride in, but everyone's noses were buried in their newspapers. Oh well. The gold star still goes to the conductor. He made my morning.

When I wake up I want to see something I love...

I have been mocked for many things many times: my inability to keep a white shirt clean, the crumbs that usually surround my plate (and sometimes my chair) at the end of a meal, my cookie...fascination, various laughs that manage to escape despite my greatest efforts to keep them in, varying levels of clumsiness and grumpiness, and the list goes on and on. Well, according to some (one witness and two who I floated the story by), we just added a new one to the list.

It all started with the big move, which, mercifully, is reaching its end. I still have one corner of boxes to be addressed and a huge Goodwill pile (ginormous suitcase that almost weighs the weight limit, anyone?) to dispose of. This was a more taxing move than the others have been. I think because it's the first time I've moved without really needing to. I mean, granted, I haven't had a bedroom door for the last 2 years but other than that things were fine.

I deemed Sunday an "ox in the mire" day and started unpacking my books. There was no way I was feeling the spirit with all that clutter, so I decided to pull the "house of order" card and got to work. I was feeling a bit overwhelmed and slightly lonely though, so B came over to keep me company while I tried to figure out how I wanted to arrange my books.

Now, if you'll refer to the post immediately preceding this one, you'll remember that I was feeling badly about my possessions. But as I unpacked I realized that had I not owned so many books, it literally would have cut my move almost in half. I'm not exaggerating. The mountain of boxes blocking my way on all sides was almost all books. I was also surrounded by five bookshelves: one very large, dark wood, 5 shelf; one tall and blonde and one short and white, both from IKEA; one nasty particle board that I inherited three houses ago; and one very cool fold-up three shelf that, up until 3 days ago, was occupied by sweaters and jeans in my closet. That's a lot of literary paraphenelia. I was feeling a little bit better.

Traditionally, the nicest bookcase (my large one) has held Tolkien, Lewis, Rowling, Austen, Gaskell, Scott and Eco, along with all my medieval manuscript and politics books. So I put them across the top three shelves. No brainer. Then I started to fill in with my other favorite books (my nonfiction tastes, having taken off last year, filled almost an entire shelf!), relegating my box labeled "American Lit" to the corner where the particle board bookcase had been banished. After I filled the big bookcase, I moved onto the particle board, where my reference books, Horatio Hornblower (the cad), Spanish materials and family history documents were destined to land. I filled that bookcase when suddenly I realized I hadn't done anything with American Lit.

Now let me just pause here to say this: it's not that I don't like American Literature. I have liked lots of books written by Americans. Anne Fadiman, an American, is one of my favorite authors. I just read The Grapes of Wrath and was terribly moved (being a Californian I think made me cry through it all the more). Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls holds a dear place in my heart. But when I looked at the box of books and thought about them in the blonde IKEA bookcase which I had placed nearest my bed, I felt sick. I didn't want to wake up to American Literature every day. I wanted to wake up to the large brown bookcase full of Tolkien, Lewis, etc. But the big bookcase doesn't fit in that part of the room. I had two choices: I would have to either wake up to AmLit or relegate the Brits to a second-rate bookcase. I stood in between the bookcases for probably five minutes. B finally noticed I had stopped moving and asked what the matter was. Lost in my thoughts, I explained my dilemma to her, not even stopping to think how ridiculous it might sound. Her laughter brought me back to someone's version of reality (certainly not my own - mine dealt with the dilemma of book placement!). I maybe should have been embarrassed (and maybe should be embarrassed for this very lengthy confession as well) but I wasn't. It is a big deal to me! When I wake up, I want to see something I love. So I decided: the Brits would have to move. Turns out they fit perfectly in the blonde bookcase. AND, non-fiction got to stay in the nice bookcase and was promoted to the top shelf. Suddenly it was like my world fell back into place. There was balance in the room: my favorite books were in an okay bookcase and my second-favorite books were in a great bookcase, and both got top-shelf status. I felt pretty good about my decision. B decided to mock me a little further, though, by pointing out that I had been referring to my books by name as I, yes, talked to them, and that at one point I apologized to Gaskell when I thought she was going to have to sit next to Dickens (He is not a favorite. However, I soon felt at peace when I realize that Gaskell is actually the perfect combination of Austen and Dickens, which happened to be the two authors I had placed her between). Anyway, all that to say, the books are unpacked and my room feels more like home. You can call me a nerd, it's okay. I'm actually pretty comfortable with that. You can call it a commentary on certain specific aspects of my life. I'm less comfortable with that.

Oh, and the fourth and fifth bookcases? I finally have a place for all my church books, right next to my reading chair, and one for my sheet music, right next to my piano. That makes me happy.

Thursday's Wish

Wish #1:
That ice would melt on the trail before I wake up to run on it. Thankfully, no spills this morning, but there was plenty of unintentional ice skating going on. Treacherous! How am I supposed to train in this?!

Wish #2:
A repeat wish I made before Christmas: That my house would pack itself and magically appear at my new house, and, as a bonus, DEJUNKED. Seriously, I have lived in the DC area for 5 1/2 years and it is astounding the things I have accumulated. In some ways I am really embarrassed by all I have. I think about the humanitarian trip I'm planning for this summer and how little those people have. Looking at my boxes upon boxes of books and stationery and sewing materials and kitchen whatevers last night made me ill; not because I was thinking about moving them, but because I was disgusted with the excess and lack of simplicity my life has taken on over the last couple of years. Last night I determined that I have to go through a bunch of already-packed boxes and take out the stuff I haven't touched in a year or more. And then make do with what I have and quit accumulating. Another part of me doesn't feel bad at all, because most of the stuff I have is what it takes to run a comfortable home in the US, but in the end I think the first feelings of repulsion are going to win out.

I wrote a letter to a friend last night after I had this realization and decided to list out to her what I would take with me if I was limited to a handfull of boxes. It came down to about 20 of my favorite books (including scrips and such), running and swimming gear, some pictures, my diplomas, my computer maybe and some clothes. I don't think my iPod even made it onto the list. I looked over the list and thought, why do I own more than what is on this list?! I sat in the silence of the night and came up with a few key reasons why. The list of reasons why I guess is now my list of personal improvement goals for the year. So I guess I don't want wish #2 after all. Packing up has been really good for me. Humbling really, and it's been at least a good two days since I've had some serious humbling...

I still really want wish #1.

Gold Star Wednesday

Today's gold star goes to:

My new Kitchenaid.

Just think of all the cookies she will make... and bread... and rolls... mmmmm.....

She should arrive by the end of the week. I think I'll name her Daisy.

Jet lag

Sucks.

You wouldn't think three hours would make much of a difference.

But it does.

Kono's goodness

Today is our last day together before everyone goes home. 

We had one more stop to make for the 2 week adventure to be complete.  

Kono's = happiness.  Big breakfast #2, hot chocolate, and orange juice out on Crystal Pier in Pacific Beach.   

Happy New Year!