For the past few years on Thanksgiving morning my mom has woken me up at the crack of dawn in an honorable attempt at getting me to run our town’s annual turkey trot with her. She’s a multi-marathon runner, so a 5k is a hoverboard ride in the park and the perfect way to kick off the gluttonous holiday for her, a food guilt minimizer if you will. I have a different relationship with running and exercise– that is up until this past thanksgiving. Every year for the past few years, my follow-up to her plea has either included tears, pacing around the house until I decide not to go, or pretending to be asleep altogether when she opens my door. You’d think she had been asking me to go on an annual bridge jumping trip. But it’s not– it’s literally a 5k in the middle of downtown with thousands of people wearing turkey leg hats on their heads. My crowd and exercise anxiety is just super incapacitating and inconvenient.
Why was this year different? Because I had to take a P.E. class at school this quarter. I chose strength development because I secretly want to look like Gal Gadot even though I know how problematic and irrational-beauty-standard-based that is. But what’s important is that regardless of my motivations going in, the class got me exercising regularly, which I’ve now realized is why gym vermin exist. I had never identified post-workout endorphin boosts until it was regular. In fact- my random trips to the gym often left me in an endorphin crash, throwing my hormones for tailspin after long awaited tailspin. Cardio/Lifting/Cardio/Lifting four to five days a week has changed my life, because when I’m running or lifting the incessant voices in my head finally shut up, because that energy is being used elsewhere. (In making that Gal Gadot bod happen though amirite)
It’s probably super menial, and a total no-brainer– plus everyone in the P.C.O.S. world knows that exercise is the best medicine, but putting it to practice has changed everything.
So this year for the turkey trot, not only was I able to get out of bed without crying or complaining, a mile in, I left my group and ran ahead and was able to sprint across the finish line with a big stupid grin on my face. Just a small win that I thought I’d share on this Monday morning.
August started off with a fish. Well really it was the end of July and I can’t take all the credit, I was teetering on a nap with my line in the water sitting up against a tree in Bernie, CA* when a dog started barking, sounding the alarm that it was time to reel in**. Then I flew to Idaho to visit a friend at cosmetology school and got the cheapest haircut I’ve ever paid for myself.
*See last post **Thanks Dug
After feeling very much refreshed, it was time to return to the denim grind.
Folding: it’s more therapeutic than you’d think.
Around this time most people began to start school including my boyfriend, S. Couldn’t let him go though before taking him as my date to a Green Day concert that I had won tickets to on the radio (that’s another blog post). Watching a political rant by Billie Joe Armstrong while planted face-down on the stage was pretty– fun.
(Not my video)
Just before S left for school, I flew down to San Diego to meet up with my best friend N, who I hadn’t seen in a week so understandably the separation anxiety was through the roof.
Upon arrival we immediately got busy touring California’s hipsteriest coffee houses, ordered Paella in broken Spanish (failed to stop eating after that point), and got wandered into a exhibit about Cannibalism in Balboa Park.
My time in San Diego had come to a close and it was time to go home– everyone except Alaska’s online booking agent agreed at least. After a couple dozen “sorry folks, another 20 minutes and we’ll have more information for you”‘s from the intercom, my flight was cancelled. My friend, and only person I knew in San Diego, was taking her own trip the following morning, and the next flight out wouldn’t be for a few days, so I was stuck. To have another two days to eat Paella and cake by myself wouldn’t have been the worst thing, but I’m pretty extroverted in the sense that I fear having nothing but my own company.
Luckily, I knew someone who had just moved into a new place two hours away– my boyf, Mr. S. !!!
Hero, damsel, airline-induced distress, you get it.
With two days to kill, we took our time getting back to Dodgerville. We watched the Navy play a very official game of ship to shore with helicopters in La Jolla and dug up some very complicated, very cheap board games on Letgo.
You hear about these people who spend Parisian holidays alone with only one responsibility: their own enjoyment. “It’s the best decision I ever maaaade” (You’ve read the blog posts). However, I’m not there yet. I definitely have ‘big city anxiety’ and I realized why.
The distance between the earth and the sky can have a huge impact on how I move about the world. Somewhere like San Diego or L.A., the sky is miles beyond reach in order to make room for all of those buildings and tourists and zippy SoCal drivers, and so I feel small and lost. Whereas in a place like Idaho, where five miles out from any suburb you’re the only person for miles, you can draw smiley faces in the clouds with your finger and you own the ground you stand I. I’m dubbing it “the oyster effect”, more to come.
We made it to L.A. around sunset and his roommates welcomed me into their apartment. We went out to celebrate what the locals call “Taco Tuesday”. The next evening, and several gluten-free cupcakes later, we came to a screeching halt at the San Diego airport barely on-time for my reassigned flight back home.
Meanwhile back at home, the first Amazon bookstore had opened across from work and while being driven by a brother who shall remain nameless, my Subaru had died. I guess A.C. gasket leaks are a common cause of death for the poor buggers. R.I.P. Bily II.
The bookstore was definitely the better news.
Car-less, with my bags yet unpacked, the scramble to figure out how I was going to get to work that week had started. I had a free minute with a borrowed car to drop something off at my boyfriend’s mom’s house, recapped my trip and my situation, and within minutes she had pulled up a google search and found my dream car. My shoes were still on and my mom’s minivan engine was still warm people.
William, the angelic dealership salesman, said that he had potential buyers coming in that night and the next day. So consequently…
…ya girl has a car payment now !!!
Then came the move. I had planned it out a few weeks prior to San Diego, I was supposed to pack up my room and move in with a friend in an apartment closer to school within the month, but through all the car chaos, I needed more chaos. The thirst for chaos had been triggered. Within another three days, the guinea pigs had my old room to themselves and I was buying groceries for a new fridge.
Quick introduction to my new roommate: Her name is B and she’s awesome. One reason is because she has a sixth sense for knowing where all dogs are at all times. Pictured below is one she found while we were out for a walk. Still don’t understand how she knew, but she did and now Teddy the toy poodle considers her family.
So that’s my update for August.
As for September, I’m going to take a stab at another year of community college to finish my AA degree in Film Production and plan to transfer to a university a year from now. I’m still deciding if I want to stick with film or if I want to evolve into an animation/illustration Pokémon……….. that’d be cool though right. Since seeing “Lion” I’ve been considering Hospitality and Business Mgmt., and if you haven’t seen it yet, watch it and you will too probably.
Anyway, thank you for reading dear reader, I hope your day kicks butt and takes names.
Here are some characters from a spot up North where 50-year-old log cabins sit in the woods and women in cowboy hats wade in lakes and men sleep on grape juice bottles and the trout are very easy to catch if you have a vocal dog helping you out.
This week’s story is all about why my eyes hurt. I’m really tired of feeling inadequate after spending 40 hours a week at school, and consequently sleep deprived; and that sense of dread about my college decision. It’s a bummy thought, but there it is.
Edit: Or maybe I just need a new prescription.
It’s not finals week around here anymore, but the artificial need for coffee remains as dire as ever. Happy Spring quarter! Stay happy, healthy, and hydrated! And if that means sustaining yourself with warm bean nectar, by all means you do you honey.