Holly was like 15 feet in the air half the time and was thrown like a hackysack several times and they even carried her around holding on to just her foot.  FOOT. Singular.  I still haven’t figured out why she’s afraid to do a back handspring when she’s not afraid to get carried around by her foot.

She’s a funny kid, though. She had asked me to record “19 Kids and Counting” because she has a weird fascination with The Duggars (and really, who doesn’t). We watched the first episode last night and I have to say it was dead ass boring, UNTIL. Michelle Duggar was going to a bible study group and was collecting her handouts and one was a treatise on how to maintain your husband’s “manliness.” And it included shit like “Don’t be financially independent” and “Don’t resist your husband’s affections” and “Don’t make your own decisions” and “Don’t listen to ANYONE, REALLY, EXCEPT YOUR HUSBAND HUSBAND HUSBAND”  and I went OFF and paused the t.v. and starting ranting and told Holly, “Listen, you must never ever ever believe any of that shit, ever, I’m serious, listen to me when I tell you…” and she rolled her eyes and was all, “Okay mom, I won’t and besides I’m NEVER wearing those heinous long skirts so you don’t need to worry.”

It’s not about the skirts! But ha!

I don’t care how many babies Michelle Duggar has, but I do care that she is teaching her daughters that they have no worth in any context other than husband-worshipper.  Fuck that shit. I’m surprised she doesn’t call him “Mr. Duggar.” Actually, that’s infinitely preferable to “Jim Bob.”  JIM BOB.

I got Elliot signed up for a dorm room next year (hope springs eternal). KU had this great deal – if a  student decides to return to the dorms for a second year, he has the option to get a single room for the double room price. The rooms are in one of the older dorms, but Elliot didn’t care (Adaptability!).   I would have killed for a single dorm room. I’m sure my roommate would have too, since I snored.

Running shit:

On Sunday, I ran 1.6 miles without stopping.

Here’s why people get all disgusting and philosophical about running: it isn’t about running.  The idea of running for 20 minutes was ridiculous to me. I was positive I couldn’t do it. Tim was like, “I think you can do it.” I was like, “WHATEVER, you don’t even know.”  He said logical things like, “In January, you didn’t think you could run for 90 seconds.” I said, “YOU JUST DON’T EVEN KNOW.”

As I did the warm up walk, I was all fussy and felt like crying, for pete’s sake. CRYING. Just because I didn’t think I could run 20 minutes. What’s more, I didn’t even want to try.

I don’t like to try things when I think there is a high probability I will fail.  And I think this is a good philosophy, for the most part. Right? Why set yourself up to lose?  But the key to that statement is “high probability I will fail.” There was a very low probability I would fail in this case, and I have trouble telling the difference.

The Couch to 5K app actually helped. As I headed out, the little screen said, “Don’t let this run scare you. Just keep a steady pace. You’ve been training for this for 5 weeks.” In my case I had been training for it for 9 weeks, since I did four of the weeks twice.   I had the robot voice set up to notify me every five minutes and when it notified me that I’d run 15 minutes for 1.17 miles I almost stopped in disbelief.   That was my goal when I started this – not a 5K, but running a mile without stopping. I said, out loud, “I DID IT!” and did a really embarrassing Rocky sort of thing. I knew I was going to be able to finish the 20 minutes and it really wasn’t going to be all that hard. And when I was done I was like, well, goddamn. I wonder what other things I could have done in my life if I’d trained for nine weeks and then gave it a shot.  Now I suppose I have to run a 5K.

Another mom is driving her, so as soon as I release her into the wild, I am putting on my shoes and tight pants and going to try to complete Couch to 5K Week 5 Day 2, which is 8 minutes running without stopping, 5 minutes walking, and 8 minutes running.  HAHAHAHAHA….yeah.

After Wednesday’s run, the arch of my right foot hurt, ominously. (No matter how I craft that sentence, ominous seems to be modifying the wrong thing, so FUCK YOU GRAMMAR)  But today it is okay. I keep waiting for something to go wrong with my feet and legs, what with my osteopenia and my general age, but you know what? I think the guy in my office is correct. Something’s going to hurt, because running sucks and ain’t right.

I haven’t mentioned that after Paco’s leg injury during Week 1 of Couch to 5K, he waited a while for his leg to feel better and then actually signed up for a few sessions with a personal trainer to start a non-impact workout. Now he’s all into it and keeps warning me to watch out for his “guns.” OH BROTHER.

Thank you for all the song suggestions and encouragement, but I can’t believe I’ve been doing this shit for two months and I still can’t run a mile without stopping.

I don’t have time to write anything else, but I think the consensus a while ago was a short entry was better than no entry, right? I LIVE TO SERVE.

Aside: Lean Cuisines are the biggest rip off in the world. Why do you people buy them? They’re like three dollars apiece and have two spoonfuls of food? Uh?

I’ve come to the conclusion there are two kinds of hoarders: crazy people (with all due respect) and slobs. I have no sympathy for the slobs, but the crazy ones, awww.  They love their stuff so much. They just want to keep their expired cans of sardines and 800 tiny spools of thread and jars of their own urine.  And there’s always some tragedy that turns on the hoarder switch.  Do we all have a hoarder switch? I mean, I throw out everything (to the point that I actually have gloves under the sink specifically for digging through the trash for things I shouldn’t have thrown away). If my Paco dropped dead would I suddenly start collecting Kevin’s poop? I hope not.

So Tim and I wait every week for two things: the tragedy switch to go on and the hoarder to storm away yelling, ‘’FINE! JUST TAKE EVERYTHING. FINE!” as Matt Paxton puts his hand over his eyes and shakes his head.  I LOVE HOARDERS.

Intervention is awesome too, because if it’s a female addict (and they are the more interesting ones, I’ll just say it), they almost always have a kid somewhere that got taken away from them, and if that’s the case, they always at some point say, “I’m a good mom.” Usually while holding a crack pipe.

My other observation is that most of the Interventions that fail involve alcoholics. Apparently it’s easier to get off heroin or crack than the bottle.  I guess that makes sense. If you quit heroin and stop, you know, hanging out with crackheads and junkies, you can go your whole life without being offered heroin with your Surf and Turf.

Running shit: I ran so fast last night. I am trying really hard not to be too overenthusiastic because I don’t want to be obnoxious, but COME ON. I ran my five minute cycles like a semi-fit person, instead of an old lady.  I changed my playlist, and yes this is tedious, but goddamn music makes a difference. I carefully timed certain songs for certain times when I knew I’d be flagging and I’ll be damned if it didn’t work. And you can make fun of me all you want, but I was on my last five minute run last night and got my fastest time ever because I was starting to slow down and this particular song came on and I was like, OH HELL YES I CAN GO FASTER. That song? I’m Still Standing by Elton John.  I know. Mock me all you want. Also helpful? MmmBop. Shut up.

Tim and I went out for a drink last evening while Holly was at a cheerleading stunt practice (competition this weekend!) and it just happened to be Valentine’s Day, so…that’s what we did for Valentine’s Day. As you know, Tim and I meet in committee before all gift-giving, fuss-making occasions and discuss expectations so no one gets pissy and this year we were both like let’s do nothing!  But then we ended up needing to kill an hour and a half while Holly practiced getting thrown around, so we had some nachos and beer and tried to figure out what basketball game we were watching.  I didn’t even know Toronto had a basketball team.

When we went back to the gym to pick up Holly she was practicing back handsprings and by “practicing” I mean she was standing there with her arms up and her knees bent and then chickening out at the last minute.  She can do a back handspring on soft mats and on trampolines but can’t seem to make the leap (HA) to hard mat. And I don’t care, because back handsprings are just wrong (why would anyone be able to throw themselves backward, blind, and catch themselves on their tiny little hands?) and I can’t imagine ever being able to do one, but jesus gods she was so mad at herself. She stormed out of there yelling about how she WANTS to do one, she NEEDS to do one by the competition because she doesn’t want to be the little kid who can only do a back walkover. “Only.” Halfway home she started sobbing and had a full-on hormone breakdown, one of those where you feel really bad for the kid until you offer advice and she bites your head off.

As part of a class Elliot takes at KU that has nothing whatsoever to do with academic performance, nay it is just a random class that particular kids take to, you know, learn study skills and things of that nature and it’s COMPLETELY OPTIONAL, he had to do the StrengthsFinder deal. Do you guys know about this? Paco and I took it back in the day and it was really interesting. My top strength was Communication (People strong in the Communication theme generally find it easy to put their thoughts into words. They are good conversationalists and presenters. Gee, ya think?) Tim’s was..I don’t know, Analytical or Deliberative or something.  Anyway, Elliot’s were: Ideation, Adaptability, Empathy, Strategic and Developer. I am SO HAPPY he took this quiz because maybe he will finally figure out what he’s good at – building relationships and coming up with ideas. He should be in advertising or marketing or sales or even journalism. But he shouldn’t be a lawyer and he damn sure shouldn’t be taking Chemistry. I’m actually rather surprised that Adaptability wasn’t first on his list. He always makes the best of things.  He’s awesome (even more awesome than he is).

AND FINALLY!! Another letter to Plain Jane from some poor slob watching that damn show in Europe!

I love you so so much I really learned from you a lot …here I have a problem with someone I crushed on but he never thought that I love him because I never express my feelings and he has the same problem of me and even more he doesn’t care about girls. Girls are always attracted to him EVERYONE of us are waiting for people to say I love you or to express there feelings to us maybe he attracted to me but he waits me to tell him first and me too I’m waiting him … But I had express my feelings but on my aggressive way as my friends said so I didn’t gain the enough care from him  so it made me return step back .wish from you to reply on me as soon as you can .      My name is Demy by the way.

Demy, Demy, Demy. There are so many things wrong here, not the least of which is your fuck-up of “there” and “their.” Come on!  You’d think someone learning a second language wouldn’t get tripped up by a homonym!  But then again, you can write an email in English and I can’t even ask for the bathroom in Dutch. Or whatever language you speak.  The Dutch seem to be tuning in these days according to my Twitter feed. Now then, let me ask you something. Did this one get away because you declined to express your feelings? Or because, and I quote, “…he doesn’t care about girls.” Here in America we call that a “red flag.” Also, when you finally expressed your feelings, how “aggressive” were you? Like, did you deliver the news topless, for instance, or did you punch him in the face, all “I LOVE YOU YOU ASSHOLE.” These are important distinctions. But really it all comes down to this: Hij is niet geïnteresseerd in u, which is Google Translate for “he’s just not that into you.”   Move on, Demy. xoxo Jane

Today is/was Holly’s Valentine’s Day party at the roller rink. Holly wore a sparkly white t-shirt, a red net skirt, black tights, knee socks with skulls and hearts and a heart necklace that blinks. It’s the thing to wear blinking lights at the roller rink.

This was the party she was “asked” to even though they are all going on a bus and plus they’re 10 years old (she said no). For months now she’s been telling me how this or that boy asked this or that girl to the party and so the other day I took the opportunity to tell her oh by the way she wasn’t allowed to “date.” Yes, I had to say that. To a 10-year-old. WHAT THE HELL.  I told her she couldn’t actually date until high school.  The time frame was 100% arbitrary and I didn’t consult Paco. I just decided no kid needs to date in middle school.

Still, I wish I had been able to go to the party. Oh sure, parents are always welcome at these things, but I didn’t think it was wise to show up, especially since there’s a “couples skate.”  Holly would expire from embarrassment if I watched her skate with a boy.

Oh, it’s fun having a daughter. So far.

Let’s talk about ME now.

Yesterday I had this weird burny pain on my chest right above where I HAD CANCER. I kept pressing on it, and I felt what I thought was a muscle, but I wasn’t sure and I was panicked, of course, because this meant I was dying.  I asked Paco to press on it and told him I was sure I was dying and he was like, what are you talking about, there’s nothing there except a bone and hoooo boy that was like throwing gasoline on a fire.

“A BONE?!! IT’S CANCER IN MY BONE!!!”

“Oh brother.”

Later in the evening I appeared in front of him topless and made him look at it again and he said maybe just wait a couple of days, NUTBAGS.

Then we were laying there in bed reading and he goes, “It’s probably from running. Did you do something on Sunday out of the ordinary? Didn’t you say your arm hurt from having to hold your phone?”

“Oh.”

Yeah, I have to hold my giant phone in one hand when I run indoors because I don’t have an arm strap for it.  When I reproduced moving my arms up and down in the running motion, that exact muscle moved around.

I need a holder for my phone. Also, when will I quit worrying? Experts? Ever?

Grammy musings:

Paul McCartney needs to let his hair go gray. He just looks silly. He’s like the richest man in the world, but he looks like he buys his hair dye at the drugstore.

I am sooooo old, but I was touched by the Glen Campbell thing. Gentle on my Mind. Sigh. So sweet.

That kid from Foster the People could totally have been a Beachboy. Hipster cute.

I hate American Idol now, but I tell you what. The alumni of that show know how to do it.

We’re supposed to hate Chris Brown, right? I guess this won’t be a very popular thing to say, but it seems sort of hysterical to write off a man’s whole career because he made a mistake.  Do we know for sure that he continues to hit women?  If not, is there no such thing as forgiveness when it comes to certain crimes?  And isn’t it a little glib to call me a “supporter” of violence against women if I am all, “Say, that Chris Brown has some pretty fantastic moves?” Because he does.

I hate Taylor Swift.

I do not and will not ever, I don’t think, understand what Skrillex does.

Running shit: I was supposed to rest on Saturday and Sunday, but the forecast called for snow today (which actually happened – and you’d think an asteroid hit the earth for the love of god) so I decided to go to the gym on Sunday and run the track and try out C25K Week 5, Day 1. I had to go up there anyway to hand in Holly’s summer camp sign up form and a check for a ridiculous amount of money. WHY IS LIFE SO EXPENSIVE?

Week 5, Day 1 is just straight up run 5 minutes, walk 3 minutes, repeat twice. I didn’t think I could do it, but I’d already done Week 4 for two weeks so as usual, I figured I’d just try. And as usual, I did it.  I’m going to do it one more time outside, I hope. It’s supposed to clear up by Wednesday. Running outside is a little harder than the track, because I actually go up some slight inclines (very slight, but still they feel like mountains when I’m tired). And I have to take a two-day rest before doing it, I’ve decided. When I run every other day more than three times, my left ankle starts hurting, like clockwork. I think people who lame themselves just to prove a point need to go to rehab for overachievers.

Week 5, Day 2 is the inconceivable: run 8 minutes, walk 5 minutes, run 8 minutes. Riiiight. THEN.  Week 5, Day 3 is very complicated: run for 20 minutes without stopping.

I can’t do that. I don’t see how on earth I can do that. Running five minutes is barely doable. Running eight sounds like an eternity. Twenty minutes? OH COME NOW. QUIT BEING SILLY.

However, I’ve said I couldn’t do the next level, let’s see….every single time I’ve moved up a level, so I guess I’ll end up doing it. I do think the progression in Week 5 is too rapid. I’m supposed to go from running ¾ mile on Wednesday to running 2 miles on Friday. I don’t think I’m being defeatist when I say that’s a lot to ask of an old lady.

BTW, I’ve had more than a few people say to me that they hope I don’t become a boring, inspirational, holier-than-thou capital R runner. Have no fear. I only talk about it because it’s the big thing I’m doing so it occupies my brain, but if I get all lovey-dovey about running, you all have my permission to call me on it. I will NEVER describe how magical my footfalls sound in the fading twilight. I will never ever ever be all, “You can do it too!!!!!”  I don’t think running is for everyone. I’m not even sure it’s for me, though the Couch to 5K thing works well for my personality because I like to have goals and track progress and you don’t get that with Zumba and yoga, etc.  Plus I hurt myself worse doing yoga than I ever have running. Oh my back. It took, no lie, two to three months to get over fucking up my lower back doing yoga wrong.  And I don’t think I can ever do yoga right. I’m just not built that way.  Even as a little kid I was not very flexible. I could never do the splits or touch my toes or any of that. I couldn’t run either, though. I didn’t do any sport very well, now that I think on it. I never tried, of course. Took me until I was 50 years old to try. HA, and I wonder where Elliot gets it.

Holly called me right after school last Friday and announced that her craft project Invention had been chosen for the District Science Fair.  Soo…I guess I’ll get off my high horse about that for a while. I duly congratulated Paco, since he built it. Holly did present it to the class and completed all the other work herself. There was a booklet that had to be designed and a cost analysis and she had to have it tested by three people and a bunch of stuff. I tell ya, she is a joy academically. She really doesn’t need any supervision and it’s a good thing since I’m not going to do it anyway. I used up all my homework supervision skills (if I ever had any) on Elliot.  Honestly, she’s better at remembering stuff than I could ever hope to be. She makes me smile, because she is always piping up from the back seat, “Oh, hey, um Mom? I need to take a dollar to school next week for (this or that),” and I’ll be like, “Ok!” and the instant I say it, I forget but she never does. I don’t know why she bothers to tell me, except she’s dutiful that way.

She’s even getting a little better with the bedtime crap. I think I mentioned that I asked her to try waiting five minutes after all the lights went out before she came in our bedroom to ask for someone to lie down with her.  Ever since then she’s only had two episodes, and both times Tim just went in there without her asking because he’s a defeatist and also has sleeping problems, i.e. if he’s sure she’s going to get up, he can’t go to sleep for worrying about it. I don’t have that problem. When it’s my “turn” I ALWAYS give it a shot, even if I’m sure she’s going to get up.

I was just in the bathroom and I heard some stranger say, with great woe, “I haven’t slept through the night in two weeks!” Really? People sleep the whole night? I get up once at least five nights out of seven, to go to the bathroom and put drops in my eyes because DAMN they’re dry.  And I’m never really very tired the next day.  I think everyone should have babies when they’re in their 40s because shhhhh – we geezers just don’t need as much sleep as you younger folk.

Running shit: It’s going to be cold as balls tonight and also we have birthday dinner plans with my mommy who turned mumbledy-nine years old this week, so I did my run this morning at 6:30 in the a.m. and oh my god,  THAT SUCKED.  I don’t know how you early exercisers do it.  I had no energy, I was thirsty, I was hungry, bleh. Also, here’s a poorly kept secret: I like running and when I do it at night, I look forward to it. When I know I have to get up early, I don’t look forward to it. In fact, I slept restlessly, knowing I had to drag ass at 6:15 and yeah, I know it’s not that early for some of you, but it is for me. I will say that when the robot voice told me to start running I was still half-asleep and just sort of shuffled along for a while before I figured out I was running.  If I stick with this exercise program and don’t tap out when I have to run for 20 minutes straight (HORRORS)(THAT’S LESS THAN TWO MILES)(I CAN’T RUN ONE MILE), I may have to get used to early morning running, because I really don’t think I’m up for jogging in Kansas at 5:00 pm in the summer.  It’s not unusual for it to be in the 90s at that time. I get overheated and start chucking gloves and jackets into bushes when it’s over 40 (I run in a big circle, so I pick them up on the way back).

Anyway, she’s a doll, but goddamn. She asked me when my last mammogram was! UH.

“I don’t have any breasts, honey,” I replied.

“Oh! So you don’t have mammograms anymore?”

Now why in the hell would I have a mammogram with no mamm? I might pop my Tiny Tempurpedics! Also, NO BREAST TISSUE. SHEEZ.

Worries me a little. It’s refreshing to see a doctor that doesn’t remind me of the whole breast cancer thing, but um. Maybe she ought to read up on it?

So, changing the subject. I’m annoyed. You may remember a show on the CW called Plain Jane. It was a reality show where they took some ordinary girl with a crush on somebody and did her over – dressed her up like a whore and fixed her hair and makeup and then had her reveal her crush to the guy with the hope that all the FALSE, RIDICULOUS, SHALLOW, SEXIST changes in her appearance would make the guy be all, “Good heavens Miss Sakamoto you’re BEAUTIFUL.” Which never happens, ever. I never knew a guy yet who moved a gal out of Category “Eeeyeah…no” to “Hell yes!” because of a hip jean jacket.

At any rate, the bums at the CW never bothered to get a Twitter account for this show, so people were constantly assuming my twitter was for the show. It wasn’t too big a deal because if Twitter traffic is any indication, no one watched this show. I would get about 5-10 tweets when the show was on. Oh, and there’s some Facebook-esque app where you track what you’re watching on tv and it sends it out via Twitter, which, again. About four people used it.  Not too bad, right? Sure, it’s annoying when you get all excited by a Twitter mention and it’s some boring thing like, “WATCHING PLAIN JANE!!!!!!!! OMG LOL!!!” but whatever.

I tweeted at the CW that I would entertain offers on my Twitter handle, because why not? They never responded. So I ignored the messages and decided to get over it.

BUT THEN. MTV bought this goddamned show and starting playing it in The Netherlands and Spain and shit and now I am not only getting the random tweets about the show – “Io AMO questo programma ahahahah @plainjane” and “ik vind het niet mooier geworden @plainjane” and I am compelled to go to Google Translate to figure out what the hell they’re saying. And I keep getting followers who are probably quite confused.

Then. This week? I started getting letters from viewers. The first two I trashed, thinking they were spam. Then I started looking at the email addresses, and by god, they are watching the show and they want advice. FOR CHRIST’S SWEET SAKE.

So fine, MTV. You don’t want to get a Twitter account for this mess. You don’t want to buy a domain for this mess. I AM GOING TO ANSWER YOUR DAMN MAIL.

The first letter is from Lulia (Iulia?)

Hi! I’m Iulia , I live in Italy but I come from Romania  (I live in Italy from 6 months ) , I’m 15 year-old , I go to high school , I love music and going to the cinema and I play the guitar . I need your help because I have some problems :  since I moved in Italy I’ve changed , I’m another person , I don’t believe in myself, I think I’m ugly because all the girls in my school are so beautiful and I can see that I don’t look like them.  I don’t talk a lot with people and I don’t make friendships. I wasn’t like that before I came here. In my school nobody knows me and I don’t have friends but I like a guy ( I like him a lot ). I don’t know nothing about him, just that he plays the guitar and he’s very popular. I’m afraid to talk and to make friends, and this is why I don’t talk to this boy. I don’t like the way I dress and the way I look, I think that this is the reason why he doesn’t look at me when he see me at school .  I feel so wrong and this makes me sick. I really need you! Please help me!

Dear Lulia/Iulia:

You know, when I was 15 I could barely speak one language, had never lived anywhere except Prairie Village, Kansas and had never gone on a date. You, Lulia/Iulia, speak English, Italian (presumably) and Romanian and you play the guitar.  I think you’re pretty fantastic just the way you are. Hey, how about you quit watching MTV shows that make you feel bad about yourself and the way you dress?  Go ahead, if you want, and tell your mom you want some new clothes, but don’t buy slutty stuff just so a guy will notice you.  Carry your guitar around and smile at the guy and if you can manage it, say hello. But since you don’t know him, you are basing your entire impression on his looks and his perceived popularity. He could be a douche, but you’ll never know until you talk to him. xoxo Jane

Next letter, from Laura!  Oh, by the way, this “Louise” she refers to is apparently the host of the show. YOU’RE WELCOME LOUISE. Apparently these girls think you want to help them, but don’t worry about it.  Just roll back over and go to sleep.

Dear Louise,

is an Italian girl who follows your program and see how it changes the lives of those girls. I need your advice because I would change my life, I have more confidence in myself and I would like to change the style of dress because even if I buy a nice dress I never use it  because I do not accept my body.
with the kids are a mess and when I like a guy I always see me as a friend, or uses.
please I need your help.

thanks a lot laura

Dear Laura:

I don’t know what Louise would say, but I would say accepting one’s body these days is damn near impossible, if the internet is to be believed.  Even the people who claim to accept their bodies let it slip pretty often that they wish they weighed less. Because let’s get real, body shaming is still reserved for the overweight. No one cares if they’re called too skinny. (Nope. No, don’t even try it. GET REAL.) There’s nothing a stranger or MTV or a dress shop can do for you. You need counseling. And quit watching MTV shows that make you feel bad about yourself and the way you dress. xoxo Jane

I’m not 100% sure the next letter is in regard to Plain Jane, but..well, she talks about being in love and whatever, so..

Hello How are you? I have a small problem I am in love with somebody 2 years ago, my name is Kenza I am Moroccan of Marrakesh I am 20 years old, student in terminal I need your help(assistant) I wait your think again with patience I loves you

First of all Kenza, I’m sure Louise loves you too. Even though MTV doesn’t have an address for you to email or a GOD DAMNED TWITTER ACCOUNT.

As far as the rest of it – I’m just gonna need more information, Kenza. I wait your think again.

The final letter (so far) is from Hanan Oumhamed who writes:

Hello Jane,

How are you doing?

I’m always watching your program at MTV and i really need your help.

I’m hanan and I’m 28 years old and I’m from holland. I’m in love for almost 1 year and he dont even know that I am excist.I say it again: I NEED YOUR HELP.
I hope that you read my email and answer.

Thanx you.

greats,

Hanan

Hanan:

You aren’t in love if he doesn’t know you excist.

Greats,

Jane

Okay, now that’s off my chest. DISCLAIMER: I am not a doctor nor psychologist nor any kind of licensed professional whatsoever. The views expressed here are mine and mine alone and have no connection to MTV or whatever behemoth corporation owns MTV. Or to Louise, whoever she is.

We are still jacking around with our decision about the flooring. Greeley casually strolled into my closet and sprayed the other night and the fact that Tim had just finished tiling that closet floor was such a relief that we just can’t imagine putting in carpet now.

That cat is a time bomb whenever he’s in the house. We have to watch him every second. He spends all of his time frantically rubbing up against things, yowling for a cat treat, dodging Kevin’s attacks and at any given moment he may decide to spray something, just to show everybody it’s HIS HOUSE. We GET IT, YOU FUCKIN’ CAT.

And the thing is, that fuckin’ cat is our responsibility. We aren’t going to get rid of him. So we remodel the house around the fact that we have cats. Kevin will pee on the floor at some point in the future too. They always do.

So in the time we’ve spent getting all these goddamned estimates for carpet and sheetrock and ceilings, we have saved up more money and I think we have the big bucks we need for hardwoods.  BUT OH THE DISCUSSIONS. The committee meetings! The budgets, the moving of money, the forecasting!  It’s just painful for me. I hate talking about money and we have had to do it twice this weekend. The other big discussion was about Holly taking up private ice skating and training for a competition.  GAH. We decided to let her do it, but that was a whole other set of financial predictions and considerations and ugh. It’s like running a business around here. I want to be like the Kardashians and with a wave of my manicured ham hand, command someone to change my window treatments because they make my skin look sallow.

Running shit: I didn’t run this weekend because I want to take two days off here and there to let my brittle bones recover from all this running. Steve Jones, CEO, who is now my official running coach via text, wants me to run every other day and just jump right ahead to running 10 minutes straight and to that I say, your new name is Crazy Steve Jones. I’m not doing it! In fact, I’m doing Week 4 over because I still feel weak on the 5-minute runs. Sue me, but I have a college degree in a field about which I know mostly nothing, but I did learn that mastery of a task before moving to the next task is a FUNDAMENTAL part of learning.  I don’t feel like I’ve mastered the 5-minute run! All right?

I do have a running CLOTHES story. So I took Holly and two other girls to a cheerleading practice on Sunday and on the way back I was driving by JCP and decided to run in there and see if they had any running clothes. I know all of you are TOO GOOD for JC Penney and that’s fine, but I am one ankle roll away from bagging this running bullshit at any given moment, so I don’t want to spend money on it all over the place. So far my biggest purchase has been an $80 pair of shoes, but everything else has been cheapo.

By the way, JCP has instituted their “real price” thing and I like it. I used to go in there and pick up a “$40” dress and after discounts and SUPER SAVINGS and adding a coupon I got in the mail and blah blah, the dress would end up costing like 65 cents.  Which is great and all, but I’d rather just go to the rack and pick out a 65 cent dress, you know?

I perused their running gear, and all the pants were $20, what up. I wanted a specific pair of pants-full length, fitted.  I run in track pants now, and I don’t like how they’re all baggy. I’m always half about to trip and fall so I don’t need extra stuff flapping around.  But apparently most folks aren’t that eager to wear skin tight leggings when exercising. Some of the fucking semi-fitted pants actually had TUMMY CONTROL. Really, people? You are exercising. Your job is to look like shit.

When Jenny and I were at Incredabowl this weekend, we were in a lane next to a woman and her young family and she was decked out in tight running pants, a fitted tank top, a tight running jacket and expensive running shoes. Jenny was all, “Why aren’t you wearing your running gear?” and I’m like, “Fuck me, there’s no way that bitch has been running because a) you don’t go bowling right after you go running-you sit the hell down and recover and b) if you really went running you would be sweaty and gross, not turned out neat as a pin.”

ANYway,  I could only find one pair of pants in my size and they had quite obviously been returned and had weird marks on them like someone had worn them and them brushed up against a dusty wall so I got all high and mighty and went and found a salesperson.

“Um, yes, can I talk to a manager? Because I really want these pants, but I don’t want to pay full price because they’ve obviously been returned and have this…stuff on them.”

And the lady replied, without missing a beat or even looking at the garment, “I can offer you 10% off.”

Lesson learned: ALWAYS ask for a discount at JCP. You’re welcome.

“Uh..well, okay.”

“Let’s scan them over here on the price checker and see how much they ring as and then I’ll mark the discount.”

She scanned them and they rang up at $9.

JCP may SAY they’ve changed their pricing, but I still took a $20 pair of pants and ended up paying less than half. Oh, Penney’s. Never change.

Everyone was up in arms! OH MY GOD. Teach your children to run away screaming from any stranger in a car who asks them for directions, dogs, help, anything.  BE ALERT! The world needs more Lerts! (tm Mr. Friendly)

Of course, it turned out that the guy, um, lost his dog. And was driving around looking for him. The fact that he was handing out his business card with his damn NAME on it tipped me off to that right away.

I don’t know how I feel about that situation. We got a follow-up email today saying the police had “investigated” and determined there was no “danger” from the “incident.” But goddamn, what a shitty world we live in. When I was a kid, one of my parents was always driving around looking for a cat or sometimes for me, since I was prone to wandering. And they would surely roll down the window and ask kids in the street if they’d seen the missing mammal in question.  I don’t think they were ever followed home by the police and questioned.

Do kids really get kidnapped by pedophiles more these days, or does email just allow school secretaries to go off half-cocked?

Running shit: I RAN FIVE MINUTES WITHOUT STOPPING LAST NIGHT. TWICE.  I wore my new shoes and they worked out fine. I almost think that running for longer periods of time is easier.  I actually get to a point where I’m breathing hard, but it’s not unbearable, it just…is.  And my ankles don’t hurt anymore. Now when I’m done with a run, the right things ache: my hamstrings, my calves, etc.  I might be able to do this. Maybe. I don’t know.  I will say I had no idea a 5K was only 3 miles.  That is just stupid, I agree, but I never thought about it. I can do a 5K. I might have to walk 4.5K of it, but I can do it.