I’m running free, yeah

Yesterday I ran 16 kilometers.

With only two weeks to go until the Scotiabank half-marathon, this was my second to last long training run before race day itself.

I haven’t been sleeping super well of later – not necessarily badly, just not very long – so I was out the door just a little before eight.

Normally I eat light before any run over 10k, but I my stomach wasn’t feel too great from the day before so I went out after drinking just two cups of water, and one cup of coffee.

(I definitely made sure to go to the bathroom before leaving, lest I be tortured throughout my route by the need to relieve myself; be it a phantom need, or otherwise – I find it’s never best to really challenge those boundaries when the feeling does arise.)

For some reason I always forget how much I love running in the earlier parts of the day. There are fewer people out and about, be it on the road, in the parks, in the woods, on the paths.

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Most individuals who are up are with their dogs, out for a stroll to pick up bagels for breakfast, or grab the Sunday paper.

Yesterday morning was cooler, but not cool.

My t-shirt and shorts were a perfect pair against the slightly overcast sky. For most of the route my overgrown bangs were toyed by an inconsistent, but gentle wind – a wind that didn’t seem to so much blow and it did bristle.

As if it too couldn’t believe that it had to be up that early on a Sunday morning.

And that it had been so long since I had cut my hair.

Look at this silly girl, running about when she could be in bed. Let’s give her fringe a little bounce – one to match the speed of her footfalls.

Good thing I always have an extra bobby-pin.

(Or two.)

I thought a lot during my run.

I thought about new jokes that I’ve yet to try out, and old jokes that could be made better.

I thought about Father’s Day coming up this weekend, and my dad’s impending visit.

Unfortunately, even the greatest of runs can be upset by the most inane of happenings.

Yesterday it was the sight of a pile of McDonald’s garbage lying off to the side of the beautiful wooded trail that marked kilometers six to eight.

The worst is probably individuals who spit, and don’t look around to see if anyone is approaching them from behind.

If I had a nickel for the number of times I’ve almost been spat on, I would have a handful of nickels.

This is too many nickels.

After the rogue loogie hockers, it has to be the drivers who never bother to look for pedestrians at designated crosswalks.

I’m running to extend my life, not cut it short.

Next, it’s walkers who refuse to briefly walk single file as you run past, forcing you off of the pavement (you can just see their inner monologues of TWO ABREAST! TWO ABREAST OR DIE!), and dog walkers whose leashes are about twenty-feet long.

Why such long leashes dog lovers?

But in the end, these things are just little annoyances that can’t take away from the overall greatness of a run.

If anything, they make you wilier, more adaptable – they ensure that you’re ready for anything.

And you can’t ask for much more than that.

Except for less spit-related nickels of course.

His and hares adventures

Ooof. I did not sleep well last night.

The rubbish combination of McDonalds for dinner, strong tea before bedtime, and unusually warm spring temperatures ensured that the couple of Zzzzs that I did catch were restless, and even worse, non-consecutive.

(Normally I would never begrudge a meal of fries and a McFlurry because 1.) they happen so rarely, and 2.) DID YOU KNOW THAT MCDONALDS MAKES DRUMSTICK MCFLURRIES?)

However, waking this morning, dehydrated and exhausted, I lamented like hell over my choice in food stuffs. Dinner of champions it was not, especially because I just crammed the whole thing in my mouth on my way to meet with my Little Sister.

I’ve also been rocking this really sweet eye twitch for the past week now, so I can’t imagine that my thirty-two minutes of rest will do much to help out with that.

(If anything, I think it’s gotten worse, EGADS.)

I kind of feel like bugs bunny in the below cartoon (clip starts at 40 seconds):

WHAT A WAY TO RUN A RAILROAD.

It actually blows my mind when I think about how much of my life is influenced by the cartoons, books, and movies I watched and read as a child.

There probably isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t reference or quote (or ever just think about) Looney Tunes, or Kit Pearson, or Shel Silverstein, or The Simpsons.

I think my favourite is when I think I’ve over done it with the make-up, I like to ask Marc (or whomever is around) if it looks like I’ve “set the make-up gun on whore.”

Yep.

I’m laughing just thinking about it.

This weekend should be a sweet, sweet mix of soaking up all of the sun rays I can get, (seeing as though I currently look like a specter, this is a VERY good thing), Mother’s day brunches, and hopefully a date night with that long-lost husband of mine.

I tell you, we are two little worker bees he and I, so much so that it’s hard not to fall into a rut that I like to call: “two highly productive, yet sleep deprived ships passing in the night.”

FOOOOOOG HOOOOORRRNNN.

It might also be nice if I could find a dress or two for the weddings that I am attending (and participating in!) this summer.

Honestly folks, time is passing at such a speed I cannot believe that we will soon we welcoming the arrival of June. I’m not sure about you, but I need to buckle up tight, and grab hold of the OH CRAP BAR because –

THINGS. BE. MOVING.

Things be moving fast.

Alas, I cannot complain because at the base of it all is such boundless awesomeness that I feel a little nuts sometimes – I really am too lucky for my own good to be surrounded with such beauty.

My friends, family, fantastic (ship of a) husband.

Our little cat.

Adventures a plenty.

So let’s put on our dancing shoes and boogie the night away.

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Happy Friday to you all!

Anybody hear that? I’m fairly alarmed here

Hey dudes!

I don’t know about where you live, but it’s raining like a raining thing out here on the west coast of BC.

Normally this isn’t something to really gripe about (what with it being my choice to live smack dab in the middle of a temperate rainforest an all) but come this Sunday I will be running 21.1 kilometers (13.1 miles for all you lovely Yanks/Brits out there) and I would prefer to do so sans soaked running shoes.

(Sans soaked shoes and/or any garment really.)

It’s not that I don’t like running in the rain, I just always imagine it being so much more romantic than it actually proves to be.

And for that, I blame Four Weddings and a Funeral.

“Is it raining? … I hadn’t noticed…”

NO ONE BELIEVES YOU ANDIE MACDOWELL.

NO ONE.

Okay, let’s get back on track.

And what better way to do this than with one of my favourite blog posts:

THE FRIDAY FRY-UP.

Hold on to your butts.

YOU GUYS.

Jurassic Park is back in theatres!

HECK YES.

Let’s take a quick walk down memory lane shall we?

1993. Age 8. Summer. Vacationing in Calgary. Staying with my mum’s friend Claire. She has twin girls who are 10, and a boy who is 12.

We all get along like gangbusters.

Are we going to go see this movie?

OF COURSE WE ARE.

If I remember correctly, I talked my way into permission by telling Claire that this film would be easypeasy compared to some of the other flicks I had previously sat through (despite my, well, extreme youth.)

Her eyes got pretty wide after I told her that on Easter we had rented The Fugitive for some festive post-egg hunt family bonding.

But I mean, c’mon lady, if I could handle Han Solo jumping off of a dam and the terrifying one-armed bandit, I could definitely hack a bloodthirsty T-Rex and a shirtless Jeff Goldblum.

AM I RITE DUDEZ OR WUT?

The other thing that really sticks out in my memory about this day (other than how much I loved this movie, despite it scaring the absolute crappola out of me) is that it was also the day I first heard the term “Jeeze Louise.”

This, to my 8 year-old self, was pretty much THE FUNNIEST THING OF LIFE, so in order to calm myself throughout the scariest parts of the film, I just repeated it over, and over again.

OH HAI NEWMAN BEING SPRAYED AND KILLED BY DISARMINGLY CUTE BUT ACTUALLY TERRIFYING DILOPHOSAURUSjeezelouisejeezelouisejeezelouise…

(And so on.)

Anywho, as you may imagine, going to this re-release is very high on my TO-DO list (as it too should be on yours), but in the meantime if you want the very best ever summation of the movie, please read this.

You will laugh.

I promise.

I am very famous.

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Just saying.

And because I am very famous, I eat things like this:

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And take family portraits like this:

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Help.

Goodbye, my friend.

So come Monday, my best friend at work (the amazing, brilliant, and beautiful Jen) is moving on to a new job, and despite the fact that I am SO HAPPY FOR HER, my little heart is pretty sad knowing that I won’t be working with her for the REST OF MY LIFE.

Veteran readers of this blog will know that she has been a top partner in crime for the past two years as we’ve kicked butt and taken names, skulked about local shopping haunts, and tried out delicious cuisine in and around the downtown core.

(She is also a formidable gym partner, professional Ticket to Ride competitor, and the official Rant and Roll fairy god-mother.)

So Jen, if you’re reading this (and I know you are), let me say this-

GTFO.

YOLO!

Also:

Yeah. That’s pretty darn cheesey.

And I love it.

So there you have it folks.

What are you up to for the weekend? Any there any runs, films, fame, or friends on your radar? Do tell me all about it.

Happy Friday to you all!

Lovers to bed, tis almost fairy time.

Dudes.

A couple nights ago, as I was getting ready for bed (WAY, WAY PAST MY PREFERRED BEDTIME), I turned to my husband and said:

“I have a really great idea for what we should do this weekend.”

He paused, mid-floss and said, “Let’s hear it.”

“NOTHING,” I said. “Let’s do absolutely nothing.”

He laughed, and agreed, saying that my plan sounded tip-top, lindy hop.

Now comes the rub: We have to actually STICK TO THIS AGREEMENT.

(As you might imagine, the two of us have a really, really hard time saying no.)

The one event standing in the way of an extreme rest extravaganza is my stand-up gig tonight downtown (off which I am of course incredibly excited about.)

However, if I don’t concentrate on getting a whack-ton of rest post-show, it’ll be bad times in the Maritimes. Sure, the old adage may be I’ll sleep when I’m dead, but I don’t want that to come true next Thursday at approximately five thirty in the evening.

JUST SAYING.

Anywho, in the interim, let’s see what’s cooking in ye olde Cosmic Kitchen of life shall we?

FRY-UP TIME!

Lost in translation.

We received this flyer in our mailbox earlier this week:

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Suffice to say that it did a fantastic job of bringing forth all the laughs.

Also, it serves as an excellent example of why individuals should really monitor their use of Google Translation, particularly the importance of not using it for translations longer than one sentence.

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Although I do really like the idea of bringing back “trading hours.”

It makes me think that I’m living in the wild, wild west.

Or some turn of the century port town.

Either or really.

Onwards!

An assault on good taste.

I was grooving about the aisles of H&M the other day when I espied this mannequin:

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HOLY SMOKES.

I just – I just don’t know anymore.

I was with a friend who was trying on ACTUAL clothing (like, fit to be seen in daylight and everything) so I didn’t really think it would be appropriate if I took off in order to scrounge up all the makings of this offending outfit, just so I could take a photo of myself in the dressing room and then kill myself laughing at my reflection.

(This is also why it is important that I don’t spend more time alone during my lunch hours.)

(Jen I love you!)

But seriously – is this what the cool kids are wearing these days? I mean, I’m all for keeping an open mind (I like to think I’m mellowing in my old age) but this is rather crazy.

Do the kids who wear this dreck even know Johnny Depp pre-Pirates of the Caribbean? I mean, even I’m too young to know Crybaby.

Also, I’m worried that we just aren’t trying to do anything new fashion-wise anymore and that we are just going to recycle everything from the 20th century over and over again, until the day the sun supernovas, and the stars fade away.

So stop making me have all this silly anxiety fashion world! Hop to it with the creativity!

Sheesh.

Sing it loud.

So I haven’t had many chances to curl up in front of the television of late, so unfortunately I have no tv or movie recommendations for you this Friday. Also, since we don’t have cable and netflix’s offerings have been total bollocks of late, I probably wouldn’t have anything even if I had tried.

On the other hand, I have been listening to some excellent tunes of late, courtesy of the ever fab Lumineers.

They hail from Denver, Colorado, and their awesome blend of folk rock has seen me dancing and singing around my house, like and dancing and singing thing.

So check them out:

I hope you like them as much as I do.

There you have it, my fab chaps.

I hope that wherever you are, it is much dryer than we have it out West – that your days are filled with laughter and mirth, ridiculous take-out menus, and snappy, happy fashions.

You deserve it all, and more.

The more you know

*First things first – the show on Friday was amazing, and I couldn’t be happier with how it went. The headliner was brilliant and very complimentary after I performed, encouraging me to continue comedy and he let me know he was impressed that I had only been doing stand-up for a short time. I was also invited to perform at a local venue by another performer, which is rad.

Right after the show, M and I drove to our friends’ house as we had to dog sit for them all weekend, and only now have arrived home after a bonkers weekend of animals and activity.

So in lieu of anything even remotely sane, I present to you dear readers: 

TWENTY QUESTIONS.

Did you know that a Boston terrier can snore louder than a steam powered locomotive?

Did you know that three nights of little to no sleep due to said snoring can leave a person positively knackered?

Did you know that sometimes a run in the pea-soup mist can do wonders to revive your spirits?

Did you know that doing the exact same run two days later can tire you like no other, which is strange, so you imagine that the second day’s mist was the residual spittle from a dementor’s kiss?

Did you know that stand-up comedy is pretty much crack, only healthier for you?

Did you know that all I want to do is continue to make people laugh for the rest of my life?

Did you know that mint-green dresses are in?

Did you know that I’ve just been told that it’s just “mint-green” that’s in?

Did you know that I purchased a mint-green dress, but because of it’s dodgy length I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to wear it sans-tights?

Did you know that the best yogurt is lemon yogurt?

Did you know that after two days away from my cat I can never figure out who is more excited to see whom?

Did you know that if I had to eat only one kind of food for the rest of my life it would be south-Asian hands down, no contest?

Did you know that my amazing husband bought be a new laptop for my birthday because my current computer sounds like there is a hot tub bubbling away inside its processor?

Did you know that he also bought me The One Hundred Year Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and I will be reading nothing else this week?

Did you know that I’m also reading the Lost City of Z WHICH IS ABSOLUTELY CRAZY?

Did you know that Victorian adventurers were probably the nuttiest (and sometimes most appallingly racist) people of all time?

Did you know that sometimes I drink chocolate milk by the litre?

Did you know that there is a tumblr called Les Mean Girls, which is a mash up for Mean Girls and Les Mis? And that it is amazing?

Did you know that I adore you all and that as I fall asleep as I type this I want to know random, crazy things about your life and loves?

Did you know – zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

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