Sorry, I couldn’t help it. It made me laugh.
Sorry, I couldn’t help it. It made me laugh.
Passing time while waiting for the show to start at Red Rocks last week or so. It is nearly impossible for Chris and I to be the same photo together and both be making a normal face.
Still sort of consumed by dreading and training for the Harvest Moon 70.3. Work has resumed a more normal pace, and I am happy for that.
I’m so excited for Christmas I can’t even stand it. And I want the new iPhone. And I just bought the cutest lamp. Ummm, what else?
Lately I’ve been seeing some blogs I read post about hitting anniversaries. One year, maybe up to three or four. It got me thinking, how long have I had my social media outlets of choice? I’m an early adopter.
I have been posting about my life on the internet in one way or another for more than ten years. Longer if you count the website I made about myself through geocities in 8th grade. I first used livejournal in 2001, facebook in 2004, twitter in 2007 (my current one was opened in 2008) and I’ve had instagram since about a month after it launched. (Does that sound…brag-y? I really do not mean it to.)
I think I started this tumblr in 2008, but, as with all outlets, I usually go back and do mass delete/make private slash and burns. Because who wants the musings of their 19 year old self on the webs?
It’s all making me feel old. And, of course, judgy of the younger generation. But that’s a ramble for another day.
This giraffe for sale in the airport made me laugh. In part because it matched my carry on bag and my travel pillow (and one of my bikinis, not pictured). Also, because it’s for sale in the airport. How would getting that home even work?
In other random news (and by news I mean something I’d like to gripe about…) the weather in Denver is perfect and gorgeous. It’s very warm and pretty but not too hot. As a result, everyone is outside. Everyone. And it’s making me so grumpy.
Why do we have such disdain for the fair weather fans? Why do I care if there are 100 people running in City Park when it’s 65 degrees? Why does it bother me that there are suddenly so many other cyclists on the road during my commute?
I want to be a laid back, easy going kind of positive person who can just enjoy the damn sunshine, but sadly I think I have the curmudgeonly grump gene.
Gratuitous picture of yourself Wednesday! Icicle Edition.
This was me when I got to work a few minutes ago.
It’s snowing! Which I enjoy. And when I said that the other day, someone asked me something like, “Oh, because you like to ski or…?” And I had to sort of sheepishly say, “Oh, um. No. Because it’s pretty. And it’s Christmas. And Mittens.” Hrrrm. I’m a child of Southern California, and even after a few years in Denver it just seems cool, and I get excited.
I was not, however, excited that my riding-to-work-in-the-snow skills are a bit rusty. A scarf would have been good. The snow was stinging my face. And duh, tuck your hair into your jacket, Mel. Or at least don’t waste time blow drying your hair if you’re just going to let it get icy and wet anyhow.
Not totally gratuitous because it is related to something that was on my mind yesterday, and that’s that I never see other cyclists who look like me:
This doesn’t seem like a huge list of criteria, but I never see it. One, because 80% of people I see on bikes are dudes. But even taking gender out of it, I don’t see people like me. Usually, if someone is rocking lights and a helmet, they’re also wearing spandex, a jersey, or some other serious cyclist gear, or sometimes just jeans or more casual clothes. If I see someone dressed like me, in a dress or work pants, they’re almost never wearing a helmet and rarely do they have lights. Why is that? I commute downtown. There should be a ton of me’s.
It makes me feel like a lonely weirdo cyclist.
As I metaphorically face planted at my race this weekend, it occurred to me that I had wasted literally hundreds of hours this year training for a stupid sport that I am not good at.
But just because I didn’t do well at one race doesn’t mean I’m not probably in the best shape of my entire life, that I haven’t had fun along the way, and that I didn’t swim nine friggin’ miles last month, after struggling last fall to swim two in a month. I’m just sayin’.
I got my bridesmaid’s dress for my sister’s wedding! It has optional skinny straps, which I will probably use for the reception to facilitate intense boogying down without worry of accidental nudity.
I want to get a big gold statement necklace, like this or similar:
And I want to get some sun. Who knew I had tan lines? They’re not even tan lines. Just different shades of pale lines. I thought it was just the shadow of my head, but you can see them on my back, too.
I think I have slacked a bit in the maid of honor department, but the least I can do is show up all one color.