As my husband often says to no one in particular while watching CNN, “Stop your infernal whining”, so I’m going to go ahead and do that.
I do want to thank everyone who sent a kind note, and to those who sent a kind note and questioned whether I was going to hurl myself into I-285 traffic, no I won’t do that. March really sucked, but we now have April, and April better be good or else... or else what? Hmm. Something to ponder over my next martini while soaking in the bathtub.
So I went to the Bay Area a couple of weeks ago, as one of my dearest cousins is expecting twins and was having her baby shower. I rarely hang out with my family, and before I get a barrage of email telling me what a horrible child I am for neglecting my folks, let me tell you why: my mother is crazy. This is no news to my friends, especially those who have met her; and if you’ve read back through some of my posts from years past, you’ll understand why. The woman makes me crazy. exhibit A:
Mom: “Tu sais, when you’re only 5 foot 2, you really need to watch your weight. You cannot be all big and fat and overweight like you are. Have you seen the size of your behind?”
Me: “I’m not 5 foot 2, I’m 5 foot 4”.
Mom: (shocked) “Since when?”
Me: “hmm, at least for the last twenty five years? where have you been?”
Mom: “No you are not. You are the same as me, 5 foot 2.”
Me: “Okay, stand up and I’ll prove it”.
Mom: “No. I will not. You are 5 foot 2. Tu m’ennuies”. (waves me away).
this was one of the tamer conversations. after 5 days of escalating non-stop negativity, i nearly hurled myself off the Golden Gate Bridge. good thing they sell booze on airplanes. and incidentally, did you know that the price per adult beverage in coach on Delta is now $7? first they make you pay to check a bag, now 7 bucks to get your drink on. argh. end rant.
I did manage to go skiing up in Truckee for one day. The weather was glorious. I haven’t skied in 10 years, and I’m happy to say that yes, it is very much like riding a bike. After a few runs, we stopped for a slope-side beer; and post-beer skiing was much more fun. No fear! No fear means swooshing straight down the mountain. Also, there’s a neat little brew pub in Truckee called the Fifty Fifty, and there I enjoyed a nice pale ale along with a pulled pork sandwich, and substituted a salad for the fries.
How am I doing with the lack of french fries, you ask? Very well, thank you. Although I will admit that there were a few instances that week in California when I really nearly caved and headed for the nearest McDonald's. When one is under stress, one craves comfort food. My comfort food is mashed potatoes, but fries will always do. however, I didn’t have a single fry (or mashed potato, for that matter). The night before I left, the boy and I went to our favorite brew pub here in Alpharetta, 5 Seasons, where the boy indulged himself in fries and allowed me to smell them. it’s a little game we like to play, you see. Call me a masochist; so be it. I know that come Easter, that pile of fries with side of ham will be the best thing I’ve ever had and I am looking forward to it like the coming of the Messiah (no pun intended).
So in order to get over my infernal whining this past month, I did a couple of things that do lead me to question my own sanity. Namely, I woke up one morning and signed up for the Peachtree Road Race. From couch to 10 K in 3 months? Totally doable, don’t you think? Ye Gods, I must be crazy. In order to prepare for said race, I’m running in the Sweetwater 420 Fest 5 K, which is in a little over two weeks, with Patty and one of her brothers. Totally doable? I guess. yesterday i ran a half mile through my neighborhood before i nearly passed out from all the pollen in the air, so who knows if i'll even make it to the finish line.
While I was visiting with the folks, I rarely had any alone time; so I was really glad that I packed my nikes as I went for a few really gorgeous runs early in the morning. I ran along Bridgeway in Sausalito; and the view was so breathtaking, the fog rolling in at breakneck speed was so peaceful that it almost made the trip out West worthwhile just for that alone. I took a few pics with my crackberry, which is why the quality isn’t so great on these, but I swear there were times when the clouds would part and I would look up as if waiting for a sign of some sort. It was just that surreal.
but no sign came from above.
ah, April. as Tina Turner once sang, you better be good to me.