For almost two straight years I wrote faithfully here at Rant and Roll.
Without exception, I published posts on Monday, Wednesday and Friday (and often Tuesdays and Saturdays, depending on when extra inspiration would strike.)
Nowadays, it’s less that I am uninspired to write (in fact I find myself reaching for my laptop more often than not – what with the unending stream of ideas percolating away inside of my brain. Sometimes I actually imagine these conceptions as small nuggets of gold, and my mind as one giant, ever swirl-swirl-swirling miner’s pan.)
It’s just that, I just can’t seem to keep track of days, hours, space, and time – let alone said nuggets.
Flip open my computer on any given day and you will find three or four half-finished posts (as well as three or four half-read Grantland, Jezebel, and Deadspin articles.)
There may even be a Youtube video or two for your viewing pleasure.
So where does that leave me? Where does that leave us?
Pretty much at the same place where I have been treading water for the last six or so odd months.
You see, I just don’t ever remember life being quite this bonkers – always barmy yes, but never to the extent where I feel as though days are simply slipping between the crooks of my fingers and the dips of my toes.
But the crazy thing is (and the big difference from six months ago), is that I don’t feel scared or upset by this.
(At least not anymore.)
Because these days, the warm weather, and fantastic runs, and fabulous friends, and fantastical reads – and all the other magical magic that make up this incandescent, resplendent, and transcendent life of mine – make me want to cut each day up into one million of the finest fragments and carefully sew each one into a soft and sinuous blanket that I may wrap myself in for all of the ages.
And they make me want to share it all with you.
Whenever,wherever the time may be.
Sugar (da da da da da daaaaa)
I haven’t eaten junk food in six days.
That is six more days than my previous longest record.
Prior to this almost-week, I am fairly confident that had I ever been the subject of a medical autopsy (as opposed to all of those recreational autopsies), the corner performing the operation (always Dana Scully in my imaginaiton) would have found my corpse to be comprised of 1/3 Rogers product.
However, in a bid to curb my anxiety, up my health-quotient, improve my running (just in case I ever decided to full-on try that competitive racing thing), decrease my chance of familial-susceptible diseases, and just in general TRY SOMETHING NEW – here I am.
The ex-chocolate bar queen.
And you know what?
It’s been the absolute best six days of life.
(It would seem as though in a bid to replace my discarded crown, I am now the queen of excessive use of hyperbole.)
Marc and I have been cooking amazing dinners, eating the delicious produce grown from our very own backyard, and taking the time to sit outside and enjoy our meals.
I cannot quite explain to you how nice it is to bide my time and prepare a delicious and nutritious dish, instead of eating seven oreos and then complaining about how much my stomach hurts, and then dreading the task of forcing a few bites of a meal down my throat (only to be starving three hours later and repeat the first step which would then ensure a redux of the hurt tummy blahs.)
I think this renaissance (can it be a renaissance if you never remember living the process a first time around?) will be one I stick with.
She was looking pretty beat.
A post-Tough Mudder snap:
On the plus side, I carried my 180 lbs partner 100 meters and was the fifth woman to finish the course.
On the downside:
Revisiting this genius:
So if Bradbury is my all-time favourite author of life, Heinlein is definitely in my top-20. The dude can not only write, but sweet mother of pearl does he ever make you think.
He may not make me quake, and cry, and shake, an die like ol’ Ray, but Bobby A too has a few tricks and treats up his sleeve.
About a boy.
Look at this dude.
HE IS SO CUTE I CANNOT EVEN.
This August will mark eleven years that I have had this brilliant, bonkers man in my life.
That is like – more than one third of my life.
(That is like, MORE THAN A LONG TIME OF MY LIFE.)
How do you even spend that much time with someone and now bludgeon them to death with a pineapple one morning over brunch?
I have no idea.
Good thing we never eat brunch.
Anywho, he’s just such a marvellous person who makes my silly little heart smile all the time, and sometimes I feel like a broken record just waxing eloquent all the live-long day about all of the full-stop brilliant things he is doing with his life, but I don’t care because he is a difference maker and world builder and all of his energy and brilliance shines light into the lives of his many students, and his words, and deeds, and thoughts and passions impact so, so many who come up to him and say “thank you thank you” and those who may not even know it, but who will wake up one morning, on a sun-drenched Thursday morn, and just think to themselves, “wow.”
Because that is what I do.