Archive for May, 2011

Too Funny Not To Share

I’m interrupting my unplanned, un-announced blogging hiatus (just too damn busy and slightly uninspired) because this is just too mind-boggling and hilarious a story not to share…

Here’s the run-down…

I arrived home from work like any other day to be greeted by the adorable shaking and “so-happy-you’re-home” excitement of my dog, Perri.   In case you’re not sure just how dang cute my puppy is, here’s a gratuitous photo:

See? I toldja! She’s rockin’ out on vacay in Miami in this photo…

Anyways, the first thing I always do when I get home is scope out the apartment to see what mischief the little she-devil has caused while home alone.  It ranges from destroyed pillows to gnawed bureau knobs to exploded pens on our couch (I told you she’s a devil!) although occasionally, it’s only a chewed-up magazine or (rarely,) nothing at all.

I scoped out the living room and all seemed well and good.  ‘Amazing!’ I thought. ‘Most excellent day!’ Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something hidden way in the back on the floor underneath our TV console.

See that white blob next to the storage bins? What is that?

A dishtowel.  Perri likes to chew the basket where our dishtowels reside and apparently, she took one to hide.  OK, no biggie, I could handle that.  No harm, no foul. I reached underneath to pull out the folded up dish towel only to find that inside it was…



I sh*t you not (pun intended), this dish towel was folded over at least twice, concealing the gross content and definitely “hidden.”

For the record, our dog is a “hider”.  We give her a bone and instead of chewing it, she trots off and hides it somewhere stupid, typically under one of our pillows on our bed.

I also unintentionally stuck my finger directly into this lovely little present, which was one of the grosser things I’ve done in my life*.

This is an un-doctored, un-tampered photo of the incriminating evidence

Pete and I are seriously bewildered over this.  We do have a crazy-ass dog walker who comes every day but when I called her, she said she saw the dish towel on the floor after she walked Perri but that it was flat, not folded, and there was definitely no poop in it, so she offered no clues as to how this happened (unless she’s lying.  Which is a possibility, given her level of crazy-pants. But…I don’t think she had anything to do with this.)

So. Our only option is to believe that our dog took a dish towel out of the basket (totally believable), pooped on it (eh, I’ll give her that too) and then folded up the towel and hid it under the TV stand (HOW IN THE HELL?!?!)…

Is our dog a genius of epic proportions or am I missing something here? I can’t stop laughing over this. I know, RI. DONK.

Anyways, I’m hoping to feel inspired to write some more running posts soon but for now, this’ll have to do! Hope this story made you laugh on this dreary Monday!

*Excluding all four years of college 🙂


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Word on the street is that it’s spring  but yesterday I spent four hours outside in rain, wind and 47-degree weather (yay track and field) so I’m not entirely convinced…

Anyways, in honor of spring, first, my favorite color combo- blue and yellow!

Aren’t those Ranunculuses (Ranunculi? What?) so, so delicious?

And second, running.  Specifically outside.

My girl Terri at TryAnythingOnce was looking for some advice on transitioning from running on the treadmill to running outside.  I’ll be honest, I rarely use it anymore but I used to be a treadmill beast back in graduate school, so I’m drawing from then…

I think that it’s important to ease back into running outside, rather than hit the pavement running (HA!).  I am a huge fan of run-walking, so throwing a few 3:00-run/1:00-walk sessions outdoors can help get your running legs back.

Don’t forget, the treadmill is a bit easier than running outside, simply because it pushes you along. There’s less fighting against gravity, so it makes sense that going from the treadmill to the streets might be a tough transition.

Another idea for making the transition to running outdoors is to increase your typical speed on the treadmill- basically, making it *that* much harder and, by comparison, running outside *that* much easier…

For me, running outdoors is one of the perks to being a runner and now that it’s finally getting nice out there, I’m enjoying the lack of layers and warm (ish) temperatures during my runs.

Which do you prefer, the treadmill or outdoor running? Have you had any trouble transitioning from the treadmill to outside?

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About two weeks ago, I was having one of the horrible, no-good, very bad, think-I’ll-move-to-Australia* kind of days.  The weather was horrendous, wet and rainy, and my normally delicious bowl of oatmeal from Whole Foods was gag-worthy thanks to the fact that some employee thought it would be a good idea to cook the oatmeal in salt water (Seriously, WTF, Whole Foods?)!

So, I sat down at my desk, stomach growling, eye brows furrowed and thinking about what a crap-tastic day this was and it was barely 8:00 am.  Was there any way this day could be turned around?

And then I got an email that changed everything.

Let me backtrack for just a second.  In January, I made the seemingly crazy decision to apply for a doctoral program at a very prestigious university (I’m not going to come right out and say which one but here’s a hint: It’s also the name of a country.) The program leads to an educational doctorate in Biobehavioral Sciences with a concentration in Curriculum and Teaching in Physical Education.  ROCK. ON.

I applied and never, ever in a million years expected to get in (for reference, two years ago, they accepted one applicant.  ONE.)

And yet, on that rainy, miserable Thursday morning, I got an email saying that I had, in fact, been accepted. In spite of the fact that I do not have a Phys. Ed. masters, did not do a thesis for my masters and still lack a public school teaching certification, somehow, they took me anyways.

I screamed, I cried and then I panicked.  It’s one thing to talk about going for a doctorate degree, it’s even another to apply but to actually do the damn thing felt like a whole ‘nother ballgame.

But…I’m going to do it.  Even though I have some misgivings and it could potentially take me upwards of 7-10 years to complete, I’m going to do it.  It feels like an educational challenge of  marathon proportions (did you like what I did there with my little running simile?) but dammit, if I can run a marathon then I can get my doctorate.

Today, I made it official by signing my acceptance letter and offering up the first drop in the bucket in what is going to be a serious chunk of change. And I’m so pumped.

It’s going to be hard, it’s going to be a long, rough road ahead but I’m ready for the challenge and looking forward to what’s to come.

In short, never underestimate yourself, my friends, because there’s just no telling what can happen with a little self-determination and a lot of perseverance.  I sure as sh*t never expected to go down this life-path but now that it’s real and official, it feels right.

I’ll be sure to document my trials and tribulations of the program once I start, but for now, I’m simply basking in the success of getting accepted and laughing about how official “Dr Simon” sounds (although, let’s be real, it’s gonna be a few years before anyone can call me that.)

*For some reason, I seem to reference this book a lot.  Perhaps it reflects my kvetching nature or maybe I just have a lot of bad days. You’re call.

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