Dear Blog,

Will you be my running partner? I started training for my marathon tonight ... and since BFF is 45 minutes away I would like someone to record my achievements, maybe even help me celebrate when I achieve one of my running goals.

Tonight I ran/power walked:

• 2 miles in 35 minutes
• The longest time that I ran was 5 minutes
• I reached my goal of being on the treadmill for 30 minutes
  

It was pretty pathetic overall, but I did it. I made my starting goal (30 minutes) and I did push myself to keep running even when I was panting really hard. It's sad ... but it is what it is. I will get better and someday (read: January) I will join a running group and get into awesome shape for the half marathon in July.

Hickey Hickey Hickey

I have a hickey on my neck. And it's not on the side either, where I might be able to brush my hair over it to help the foundation that is barely hiding it from the whole world. It's on the very front of my neck ... right next to my voice box. UGH. And yesterday, the day after I was given this glorious gift thanks to Boyfriend, we were at Boyfriend's house where Boyfriend's mom totally saw it. And when I went upstairs to take a much needed nap, she totally gave Boyfriend tips on how to make it go away which turned into him attacking my neck with a toothbrush trying to make it go away.

And if you were wondering ... it didn't work.

I got rid of all my turtlenecks the last time I did a wardrobe raid and my pretty scarfs are still packed away in storage which means that I have no way to cover it up without being completely obvious about it. SIGH. So here I sit, in my cube, so grateful that my boss is out of town so that I don't have to talk to him at all until this thing disappears, and hoping that I piled enough foundation on my neck that no one will notice. I blush every time I look in the mirror.

But I like to think that I have it pretty well off considering Boyfriend's history of giving girls hickeys. His family goes to Minnesota every year over the 4th of July. Boyfriend once took a high school girlfriend with him and somehow managed to give her a giant hickey on her neck, (even though I'm not sure how they got that much time alone to have such a great make out session, all the adults kept a close watch on us and we are in our 20's) for which she will be forever referred to as "hickey Jenny" by his family.

The moral of the story is ... well, to tell you the truth I don't know what kind of moral can be taken from this. Really, I just wanted to bitch about having to go to work with a hickey front and center on my neck.

I'm getting older, too.

I'm nearing my 24th birthday at a speed that sometimes makes me happy but mostly just makes me want to go away and hide. I know that it's not a big deal ... I mean, I have my whole life ahead of me and it's not like when you turn 24 you're suddenly old and feeble. The reason that it makes me upset is that fact that it's here and it seems like it got here a lot faster than it should.

The reason I bring this up is due to a conversation that I had with Rose the BFF the other day. We have decided to run a half marathon during the San Fransisco Marathon on July 26, 2009 (awesome, right?!) and we also have decided that we are going to run the Disney full marathon in 2010 in January on a date that I am not sure of right now. This way I have plenty of time to train and learn how to be a runner and not die after running 6 miles ... like I normally do. But I digress. The conversation in question went like this (edited for content and length):

me: So we do the half in SF and then the whole Disney?
BFF: yup, in jan of 2010.
me: sweet ... that'll be perfect
BFF: and then we can start having babies.
me: great, and our flat stomachs can go the way of the dinosaurs.
*moment of realization*
me: oh my god, we really are going to start having babies.
Oh.
My.
God.

And it's true. We both are nearing our mid 20's and we both are in steady, serious relationships. In fact, some of our friends who are already married (ah!) are pregnant with baby #1! BFF has a friend from her home town that is already on baby #2 that was planned. PLANNED! They planned on having a second child ... they aren't even 25 yet. Holy crap.

The thing that is really freaking me out is that I feel like I've waited my whole life to get to this point. The point when I was out of school, working at a big girl job, dating a guy that I love and who loves me back (I am 99.9% sure that this statement is true, BTW), and getting to the point where I'll be getting engaged, possibly married and maybe even one day choose to have some wee ones. I mean ... come on! It just blows my mind and I feel like I'm so in shock about it that I can't even process what's happening.

I am a grown up person.

I am! But the problem is that I still feel like I did in college (this could have something to do with the fact that I still babysit like a crazy person, live with my parents, and get paid a miserably small hourly wage). If you are a younger person reading this (HA! No one reads this ... who am I kidding?) and you just don't get what I'm talking about ... let me give you an example of what it feels like.

Boyfriend's mom: So, when's the anniversary?
me: It was October 8th actually.
Boyfriend's mom: And how long has it been?
me: Two years.
Boyfriend's mom: Does that include the time that you dated before you got back together?
me: Nope. We dated for 9 months the first time so if you counted that it would be closer to 3 years.
Boyfriend's mom: Wow ...
me: Geez, it's been two years. It feels like we only got back together like ... a couple weeks ago or something ...
*head explodes*

When you start thinking that things that really happened 2-3 years ago only happened like, last month, you're old. Believe me, the first time this happens to you, you will remember it. And then you'll tell your friend about it and they will know exactly what you're talking about ... and then you'll cry because right when you stop wishing that you were older and start enjoying the place you are in life is the time when you get what you've been wishing for and you keep getting older. And it doesn't stop for a loooooooooong time.

*head explodes*

"I Feel Happy!" - Old Sick Guy from The Search for the Holy Grail

Well blog readers ... if there are any of you at all ... I am feeling much better now thanks. I know you were up all night wondering how I would deal with my issues and worrying that I might spiral out into a deep depression. But never fear, having talked things over with Rose, the BFF, I am feel quite better. That's not to say that I don't have the occasional "Ugh, I look terrible" thought but the thoughts are not as frequent as they were and they're fleeting. Like ... "Ugh, I look terrible. Maybe I'll look better after I shower." or maybe even "Ugh, I look terrible. Maybe I'll spend 5 minutes putting some foundation under my eyes so that it looks like I went to bed last night." You know, the usual girl thoughts that we all have.

And usually it happens in the morning and then I look fine when I leave for work.

And then at about noon when I get really sleepy from my lunch ... I start to dislike my hair so I put it in a pony tail. A PONYTAIL! Yes, yes, a ponytail. My hair has grown to the point that I can pull it back, even though it doesn't all stay back unless I use like 6 bobby pins, but that's beside the point.

All in all, life is good.

Sometimes you just gotta put yourself out there and vent, no matter how other people might look at you afterwards.

Pretty Girl Ugly

You know, in our society, you always hear about those runway super models who look in the mirror at their almost skeletal bodies and say "I could stand to lose another 3 pounds" and those super hott girls who look at themselves and say "If only my hair were [insert color] I would look so much cuter", and if you're anything like me you laugh at these stories and go "Whatever. The skinny chicks know they're skinny and they flaunt it by talking about losing weight so the rest of us feel sorry for them" or "Right. Super hott chick doesn't know she's hott. And I'm the queen of England."

(Did you like my run on sentence? I think it's awesome. Oh yes English minor ... you come in soooo handy in my life.)

But for the first time ever in my life, I know what these girls are talking about. I look in the mirror and all I see are my flaws. The blackheads, zits, how one of my eyes is almond shaped and the other is round, how my eyebrows grow funny , how my short hair makes me look stupid because I don't have the ability to get up early enough to spend 45 to straighten and do it, and the fact that at the ripe age of 23 I have chin hairs. Yup - I hate them.

I feel ugly all the time now ... even when I'm with Boyfriend. And I know he doesn't care about any of that stuff. I know it. But I still wonder sometimes if he thinks that I could stand to lose a few pounds or if he has ever noticed the fact that I have chin hairs. And I worry that if I ever say any of this to his face that he will think I'm crazy and not want to talk to me about it.

And I need to talk about it. I hate wandering around wondering if everyone else is seeing what I see in myself. I feel alone and depressed. Last night I got in bed and cried because I was trying to take a pretty picture of myself, I don't know why, I think it was because I was making sexy faces in the mirror. But every picture I took just made me feel uglier and uglier.

I am rapidly reaching a breaking point. I'm sitting in my cube writing this and I can feel the knot forming in my throat ... I can feel the tears in my eyes. I don't want to cry at work.

I don't want to feel like this anymore.

But I don't know what to do about it.

I used to not give a crap about what I looked like or what people thought about what I looked like. I used to wear costumes to school ... and I had people point and laugh at me as I would walk down the halls. But I didn't care. I liked it, and that's all the matted. It's only been 5 years since I was that girl ... has it really been so long that I can look back and wonder how I was ever like that?

Every few years, for my whole life, I hit a point where I find some things that I don't like about myself and I strive to change them. One year it was to stop hitting my friends (not like beating them, in the 'you're so funny *slap on the back*' sort of way), another year it was to stop complaining. But I've never hit a point where I feel like I need to do a complete overhaul. Feeling like I have to scrap everything and start over.

On top of feeling ugly ... I feel like I'm a failure at everything.

I'm late, I'm not crafty, I'm not as creative as I used to be, I work too much, I don't have enough friends ... I just don't feel like I'm good at much anymore.

Besides being ugly.

I'm really good at that.

Super Careo's recipe for the perfect cup of coffee ...

EDIT: Please don't read this post if you are a coffee purist.

1. Take regular black coffee, brewed, and pour it into a cup.
2. Take Coffee Mate Vanilla Carmel creamer, powdered, and add it to the black coffee.
3. Stir and taste.
4. Dump in some more Vanilla Carmel creamer.
5. Stir and taste.
6. Dump in a ton of creamer because you don't want to have to pour and stir another six times.
7. Stir and taste.
8. Add a pinch more creamer for good measure.
9. Enjoy.

I {heart} my Vanilla Carmel creamer. It makes coffee a truly caffeinated, sugar packed treat in the mornings or in the afternoon.

A lovely weekend ...

This weekend, while largely uneventful, was wonderful. Boyfriend's parents were out of town and so I joined him at his house (he had to dog sit) thinking that we would just spend the night in front of the TV watching KU football (we lost, BTW). But I was totally surprised when Boyfriend took me out on the back porch where he had the hot tub bubbling away, complete with votive candles, music and some beers for us to enjoy. It was wonderful, especially since we spent most of last weekend arguing about stupid things. However, it did start to pour down rain almost as soon as we got in, but Boyfriend had already counted on that and had set up an unbrella for us. Too bad it started leaking ...

The next night we went to Lawrence and hit the bars with friends. It was a good time, although I somehow managed to spend $40 ... insane. But all in all, worth it. It's been a long time since I let my hair down, and I really enjoyed myself. Then, after we watched the Chief's get spanked by the Radiers (grr ...) we came home and spent the evening together watching Harold and Kumar escape from Guantanamo Bay. Not my favorite movie, but it was ok.

Now it's back to the grind ... Boo.