3am

My alarm will violently ring in two hours. It will be time to get up.

I am supposed to be downtown in three hours dressed and ready for the race. They say you're supposed to get a good nights rest before a big race. If I fall asleep right this minute this will give me two hours of a good night sleep.

I stepped in my front door 30-minutes ago. My roundtrip to DFW today was delayed coming back home. While the world lays silently this morning my back leans against the bed pillows as my mind wanders down my imaginary 'to do' list for in the morning.

Bagels. Check. Bandaids. Check. Sweatshirt. Check. iPod. Check.

The percentage of me having a great finishing race time tomorrow has now lowered. Check.

Less on Top

I shaved my head this morning. I did not shave it bald.

Well I didn’t personally do it. My rather gorgeous hair cutting lady did it. I hate my hair. Always have. It’s thin. It blows in whatever direction the wind is blowing and will often stay in some obnoxious shape after the wind dies down.

If I had thick hair I would purposefully put it into obnoxious shapes because that would be fun. But with thin hair it’s not fun or manageable.

I decided to go ahead and shave it because of a big race I have this weekend. You can imagine what my hair looks like after I’ve run seven miles.

With no personal grooming needed in the mornings I will have more time to sleep. Five or 10 extra minutes in my bed can feel like an hour on some mornings. Unless there is orange juice in my fridge….then I can get up easier without those extra few minutes lingering over me.

I had a friend in town recently. He stayed a few nights at my house. He is obsessed with an iron. You wouldn’t think this about the guy, but he gets it from his mom. Everything in her life is perfect. She is the ‘Bree Vandecamp’ of my life (Desperate Housewives). I’ve known this guy since 6th grade. I was the new kid in school. He was not. I was the skinny blonde bucktooth kid who sat at the desk with my name on it. This guy comes in on the first day of school and yells at me to get out of his seat. I pointed out that my name was perfectly written on the nametag to which he notices we have the same first name. He mumbled something and walked to find his own desk further back in the classroom. We became friends a few years later.

This guy irons his clothes everyday before work. I once pointed out that he should try ironing the night before he goes to work. You would have thought I was a stupid idiot for suggesting such easy ideas. You would have thought I cussed him out. I don’t remember his exact excuse but he was no longer interested in hearing my advice at that moment.

Each morning before we left my house my friend would iron his shirt until it looked perfect. I caught him once ironing his undershirt. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut when I saw that. I have never seen such a thing. I have never heard of such a thing. I began to wonder if he irons his socks and underwear. I refrained from asking. After all since he was so handy with the iron I threw a few things at him to iron for me. I didn’t want to upset him with my sarcastic questions if he was willing to iron for me. I learned that if your undershirt is pressed then it won’t show thru your freshly ironed dress shirt. Otherwise you can tell if someone hasn’t ironed their undershirt. I understood the point, but still looked down on my friend and laughed at him.

He left in the middle of last week to go back home. I found myself one evening preparing to go out with some friends after he left town. I picked out a rather wrinkled shirt and turned on the iron and waited a few minutes. Before I laid my dress shirt on the ironing board I thought of my friend and quickly took off my undershirt and ironed it out. I felt stupid but was curious. After getting dressed and preparing to head out I realized how great my undershirt felt.

I have ironed my undershirts four different times since my friend left. I think I might be addicted. Maybe now with no hair to mess with in the morning I’ll have a few more minutes to iron my socks and underwear.

Thru the Lens

The Washington Monument in all it's glory. Our host took this photo.


This gold star-filled wall (right) was incredible. The reflection and calmness was eerie considering hundreds of people were standing nearby checking out the World War II monument. Turning my camera away from the crowds I was able to capture the stillness of the moment.


I took a few shots of these flowers but this one came out the best. The sunlight hits them at the most perfect points.

There was something about this door that struck me. I can't put it into words. I was at a crowded market and came across this empty corner outside a historic building. I tried holding my breath in this tunnel but ended up laughing outloud. My passenger almost made it thru, but gave up before the sunlight at the end of the tunnel hit our faces. I had enough time to snap this photo since I was able to breath.



I love this photo of vegetables. The raw carrots laying before a bed of fresh green broccli. The stillness and colors drew me to take this photo.

I like the misconstrued view outside the the passenger window, yet looking into the side view mirror what we left behind was clear. We didn't know what laid ahead in our travels, but what we were leaving was a clear memory of time well spent together.

Quiet Happiness

My vacation came to an end earlier this week, Tuesday in fact. Real life started back on Wednesday, but it was more like Friday when things began to fall in place.

Quietness is what I missed the most. Don’t we usually take vacations to get away from everything? To relax and experience quietness. Maybe it’s more of a solitude feeling that I missed. Traveling with a friend, to go see another friend meant there was someone by my side all the time.

I did good being with that much company for that long of a time. I like to be surrounded by people. I also like to surround myself with emptiness at times too. To not set a schedule. To do what I want to do. Those are the feelings that make me happiest at times.

This weekend was my first in awhile to be home alone. I tried living it up for what it was worth but one thing or another kept showing up at my door or calling me to talk. I wasn’t in the mood for it. I wanted to go and do things on my own.

Today with nothing on my schedule I made happiness out of cleaning and chopping some fruits and vegetables. I bought over a weeks worth of fruits and veggies yesterday at the Farmers Market.

Eating fruit is my type of vacation. It’s a break from the regular processed foods that surround me daily. It’s a natural sweetness in my mouth that wasn’t an added ingredient on some conveyor belt in some factory miles away. Instead it’s a natural quiet happiness for me.

Neverending Road

With the change in weather comes a change in office dynamics. No matter how much work I accomplish each day, there seems to be more and more work to do. Once one phonecall is returned, another message is left on my voicemail. As one stack of notes gets organized and put into deadline order another one has started piling up in another chair.

I felt the need to escape.

With the car packed, maps studied and another friend in tow we're on the road for a vacation.

We've got nothing but asphalt miles as far as the eye can see in front of us. With the ipod full and magazines stacked on the floor this will be a successful break from work.

When I go back next week all the piles of work will hopefully find a way to disappear back to where they came from. I dread seeing it already.

State of Ugliness

On the train this morning two ladies came up to the second floor hoping to find seats next to each other on the four hour ride down to Ft. Worth, Texas. With the seats already full of families and various tourists they ended up sitting apart. The shorter blond haired woman with too much makeup sat in front of me while her tall, stringy hair 80s-wearing jean friend who was missing a few front teeth sat behind me across the isle. That didn’t stop them from having conversations for everyone sitting near them to hear.

I learned about their night out partying on the town, their roommate’s names and jobs, and the deal on shirts they bought at Wal-Mart this week. I also learned about a missing dog.

The lady in front of me listed an ad in the paper earlier this week searching for her missing pit bull. A man who found it called her on her cell phone while in motion on the train. I learned the caller’s entire name, address and phone number as did everyone sitting in the same section. We also learned that the lady lied on the ad so whoever found her dog would return it. She listed that the dog needed expensive medication throughout the day and would be in danger if not with her owner. While creative in advertising the lady lied in order to increase the chances of her dog being returned by just any random dog finder.

She told her friend, sitting a row behind me and across the isle, about her craftiness in story telling after she hung up the phone. The friend asked if the gentleman caller asked for a reward to which she replied with a “NO” followed by her story of a lie.

I was tempted to write down the caller’s phone number and ring him once I got off the train this afternoon. I would have encouraged him to drop the ugly dog off at the pound and walk away. Or, I would have told him to ask her for a reimbursement for a drug he gave the dog after he called a vet and described the current state of her dog since the ad stated it needed meds. It didn't bother me that she lied. It bothered me that she talked so loud that my otherwise pleansant ride was rather annoying with her in my presence. And yes...it was before I had any caffeine this morning so I was being rude in my head.

Instead of my evil wishes coming true the train company fulfilled my silent wishes.

As the train arrived into a certain station the conductor announced that anyone who needed to smoke could get off the train and give into their addictions for two minutes. Leaving their belongings in their seats the annoying ladies quickly stepped foot onto the platform to light up and gab. I silently watched all this from my seat as I scanned the crowd of 15 to 20 passengers all huddled below my window together puffing away. It was a humorous site to see. Over the next two minutes I saw people rushed trying to get in a few good puffs before they stepped back on the train. I also saw two annoying ladies disappear thru some doors into the train station.

After two minutes we started rolling again as the train blew its whistle. At that moment I saw the two ladies run out of the station only to miss our train completely.

There is only one train per day on this route. I guess the short blonde lady with too much makeup won’t be picking up her dog as soon as she had expected. Too bad.