Helpful Tips

Tomorrow is the big race. As you all know, I'm less than prepared. Like, really less than prepared.


(not me.)

No matter.

In the spirit of someone that might have some advice for others, I've created a list of things that will and will not help you run. This is for anyone that might be considering a road race longer than anything they've ever even attempted, and then blow off training for said race, and then rediscover a love of ice cream, and then trying to cram in a few months of runs into one week, fueled only by shame and fear (thank you Allie Brosh, for coining a phrase that so aptly applies to my life).

Without further ado...

Buying budget-crushing workout clothes will not make you run faster. I know, I was surprised too.

On that point, buying said clothes in loud prints and colors, under the mindset of "If I'm wearing something totally ridiculous, I'll force myself to run faster, so I don't look like the slow loser who's wearing crazy clothes," will not make you run faster. You will just look like a slow loser in ridiculous, crazy clothes. Been there, sister. Been there.

Exaggerating a slow pace at the start of your run will help you to not burn out early. Thanks, Dad!

Talking about running over gChat with Lindsay will not do the same thing as actually running. And while we're on the subject of Lindsay, she will not do as poorly as she says she will. Don't be fooled. She was a personal trainer and has run a half marathon.

Putting five miles in perspective will help you get to the end of the race. I hope.

Remembering that you never have to run five miles again in your entire life will also help, I think.

Helpful? I thought so.

After all, who better to give running advice than the girl who loses her will to live after about 1.34 miles?

Rants and Raves (mostly rants)

One of my greatest joys in life is pointing out the ridiculous.

Ranging from the mildly absurd to the wildly incorrect and vaguely inappropriate, I enjoy a certain smug satisfaction from discovering that I am right about something, and whoever committed the offense is wrong.

It's actually not unlike the "Really with Seth and Amy" skits on Saturday Night Live (except most of the time it's mental dialogue and Boyfriend never laughs hard enough).



(Did that work? HTML isn't really my thing... if it didn't, here's the link: http://www.hulu.com/watch/13828/saturday-night-live-really-with-seth-and-amy)

Anyway, this morning's very-similar-to-really-with-seth-and-amy-but-not-exactly-the-same rant (please don't sue me SNL, I do not make enough money to fight you in the courts) is directed towards my local coffee chain (who I love unconditionally, but this just goes to show that the ones you love can sometimes hurt you the most).

Seriously, coffee shop I refuse to name because I fear legal retaliation? When you say "eight flavors; endless combinations" on your menu, do you not realize that those two statements are completely incongruent? That if, in fact, you have eight flavors, the maximum number of combinations you can have is 64? And that's only if someone wants to be a real pain in the butt... with eight flavors, what you really have is EIGHT combinations. Because nobody wants a hazelnut-raspberry-coconut iced coffee. And while we're on that subject, nobody really wants a raspberry iced coffee, either. You lured me in with that one a while ago, and tasted like broken promises.

Who really wants endless coffee combinations, anyway? When I stumble into your brightly colored shop in the morning, all I want is something that will keep me moving for the next few hours until I can substitute Diet Coke in for my caffeine fix. I can barely choose between vanilla and caramel, let alone endless possibilities. Who are you trying to capture with your menu marketing? Who is the guy that says, "Gah?! Only 64 choices?! This is COMPLETELY unacceptable! I want to know that I could be here for years choosing my bean-based beverage... with 64 options, I will only have but a few shorts hours."

You know what? I don't even want to know that guy. Please just take the "endless" off your signage, and we'll go back to back to the way we were. Thank you.

End rant.

Now, go to hulu.com and make them money, and watch SNL this weekend (so neither of them come after the sassy b's).

I am not very interesting today.

This is my desk:


Please ignore the crappy photo; I took it with my phone (+2 life points for using a semi-colon in a blog post).

That's all I have for you today.

I was searching for inspiration and I just couldn't see past the blue fabric of my "walls." And then I realized that before I joined the 9-5 crowd, I was actually fascinated by the idea of cubicles. And so, in the event that any of you are as lame as I was/am, here's a post about my cube.

SIDE STORY: When I started dating Boyfriend, he was already out of college, and I had all sorts of crazy ideas about what was in his cube (whimsical pictures of us! stacks of paper labeled important! a constantly ringing phone!). What he actually had was a Kirby Puckett bobble head. I should have known.

Anyway.

In the photo above, you'll notice two of my four calendars. Why do I have four? Because I start to go into a blind panic if I can't see exactly what date and time it is from any given angle at my desk. So I'll keep them all, thank you, and add another if I get a chair that has better swiveling capabilities.

You'll also notice a campy mug with hearts on it. Purchased at T.J. Maxx for five dollars, it gets the job done and makes students think I'm older than I am, because seriously, who has patterned mugs? I want to replace it with this. Incidentally, my birthday is August 9th. No reason. Just saying.

That pink, sea anemone-type thing? I have no idea. It was novel for a while and now its home is right in front of the green water bottle that gets no use.

Boyfriend's Official C League softball schedule. A given. Remember the Kirby Puckett bobble head?

White Out to amend the four calendars I have at my desk.

Post-it notes in a color I dislike. I prefer the classic yellow, with black pen. But sometimes, you just have to suffer through.

White organizer that has a notebook I have used once and then found too cumbersome to bring around with me, assorted pens of which I actually only use two, business cards, a cute note from Boyfriend that I thought would be lame to pin up but now am actually considering (in the time it took to type that, I've already reconsidered). A ruler because I flip out if things aren't level. Spoons because I like to eat my yogurt from something that isn't plastic and designed to cut up my mouth. And a lone cough drop left over from my mysterious illness.

And that's it. I won't even get into the other side of my desk.

I'm sure all nine of you really enjoyed this.




It is absolutely no wonder that we do not have more followers.

sweetea.

'Tis not Sweet Tea. It is sweetea.

One should pronounce it as one word.

Earlier today I walked into Thoreau, NM's general store.
Nickname: BJ's.
Official name: BJ's Kountry Store.

I saw a little plastic bottle of Lipton's tea called "Sweet Tea." My heart jumped into my stomach and I felt like doing a tiny dance, but wisely chose not too. I just adore sweet tea. It is the best thing in the universe. If I was Oprah, it would be at the top of my "Favorite Things" list every single year. I purchased the "Sweet Tea" and carried my prize to the car. I couldn't wait to open the bottle and try it out. I twisted the plastic top off, tipped the ambrosia to my lips, and then wanted to just shrivel up and die.

No bottled "Sweet Tea" has EVER tasted like the real thing. And yet, in my naivete, I have repeatedly tried any new brand in the vain hope it would actually be sweetea.

As a wee young girl, I worked in many a Southern eating establishment. Here, and at home, I learned the proper way in which to make sweetea.

You brew some of this:

And while it is still piping hot, you add a LOT of this:

You mix it up and basically continue adding sugar until the mixture can hold no more.

Pour in one of these:

And pour over a glass of these:


If you are feeling VERY sassy, spontaneous, and CRAZY, you can add:

Or a wee sprig of:

As the weather warms, I encourage you to make and enjoy some sweetea for yourself.
Front porch, rocking chairs, porch swings, and gossiping are optional.






PS. let me know if you would like a recipe with more, say, measurements.