a bit of a loner

Continuing with the theme of adolescent-humor movie themes, we're moving on to The Hangover.

Let's be clear: I'm not really a fan. I've seen it twice, and both times it was a little (lot) bit much for me. And the end credits? With the photos? And the "eeuuwww"? You know? Yeah, you know. My favorite part is about the first 30 minutes. Specifically, the scenes with Zach Galifianakis. Like the wolfpack thing.


I had checked out several books on running from the library two weeks ago. Because you might not know this internets, but I have reached the tipping point with running. I'm going to do it. For the last year, when I've pictured myself happy, satisfied, and excited about life, I've pictured myself running. I'm out on a run, wearing something cute (because when you are imagining things, you can wear what you want. Ask Anne Shirley.), and its awesome. Its amazing. And I decided its time for me to get out of my dreams and get into my car, if you get me.

So. I checked out these books, loaded my little mp3 player up with the Outlander audio tape (yes, I exercise to a book on tape. I have become the most boring person you know.), and planned to head out to the Y. I did some thinking and realized that in my imagination, I was running outside, not on a treadmill. So I decided to run outside, which is something I've only done once since high school gym class. I was going to be a lone wolf, running free at night wherever the paths on campus took me. But then I realize that I have seen way too many Law & Orders to run by myself at night, regardless of the location.

So then I asked my friend Nicole to come with on my first run last Tuesday. And then she said yes. And then I asked Laura, and she said yes, and then Laura asked Lesley. And now my lone wolf pack has become four.


We can run outside of campus at night! Like some sort of slightly to very overweight fitness gang! I'm in a gang! In California!

This kind of exciting life has always seemed to allude me. But not now. I'm in a gang. And we run. And then walk. BUT THEN WE RUN AGAIN. If you are thinking of messing with us, you better be able to run/walk better than us. And that is a debatable skill.

The goal of the running gang/wolfpack is to be in the San Jose Rock 'N Roll Half Marathon next year. Next year, you ask? Yes. Next year. Its not a secret that I'm chubby. I don't want to get hurt, and I do want to run. So I'm doing a 13 week training plan to do a 10k and then I'm moving on to a 26 week half-marathon training plan. And then, in October, I'm going to do a half marathon. Which seems so ludicrous. Thirteen miles? Me? Not in car? I know, right? But it's going to happen.

So, watch out for the roving gang of moderately paced women. One of us wears a weight vest, and she's not afraid to use it.


I've been thinking about that movie Knocked Up.

I first saw Knocked Up when I was barely pregnant. I was still wondering who was going to be my doctor, as my current doctor was also pregnant and would not be around when I was to be delivering the current blob of cells residing in my uterus. So I went to see Knocked Up with my friend Anita, as something fun to do, as I realized my propensity of being able to do fun things planned just an hour before was slipping, like the days of our lives, through the hourglass of time. Depressing, no? But that is how it was in my mind.

So, I went to see Knocked Up with Anita and it was funny, and it didn't make think about things like plot, or denouement, or if some demon was going to be coming though the door to eat someone's soul. It was just a good time. And then we saw our professor sitting two rows ahead with some other guy. We talked about throwing popcorn at his head to get his attention, but for some reason decided against it. At the end of the movie, we went over and said hi and met the friend, who happened to be a doctor. A doctor I was thinking about having as my doctor. For the blob of cells. I realized immidiately I could not have this person who I met socially at a movie about people getting knocked up be my doctor for the time I was knocked up. It simply couldn't happen.

So anyway.

The main reason I was thinking about Kocked Up recently was because of the scene where Paul Rudd is talking to Seth Rogan, while Paul's kids are playing. Paul is talking about how he wishes he was excited for anything as much as his kids were excited about bubbles. And, how their enjoyment just pointed our your inability to enjoy anything. And wow, isn't that true?

What do I (or you) like as much as my daughter likes bubbles? Or the swing? Or slides? Or counting to four (technically, she says 1, 2, 3, 8) and running to me to get a hug?

I mean, I like a lot of things. I like sitting at the table when everyone is either asleep or gone and reading a book. I like baking. I like seeing friends. I like it when it's windy enough for the leaves to move in trees. I like airplanes. I like coffee. But none of those things will get me running around and laughing like a hyena like anything Birdy likes.

Where did she learn to enjoy things like that? And when did we forget?