A Christmas Poem

T’was a year fraught with new things
I was anxious to do things
But doing things is tricky
When you’re in a new place
Ben and I played
All the games ever made
And all of the sport games
Our tv screen graced

As things got going
Our Ohio presence was showing
And our ward has now
Made use of us
I volunteered Ben
For the hardest calling among men
But it was me who was
Thrown under the bus

First primary, then on to the young gals
Making all the mia maids my pals
And I’ll be directing the choir
If I can figure out how
Ben was first called to teach
But he has since been beached
To the high priests group
And the young men’s Bball team now

Our work is still going
but there's no way of knowing
how long we will plan
to stay here
I love what I do
Ben tolerates his bossy-poo
and we'll be renters
til things are more clear

We try to work out
And on some nights go out
But often
We like to stay home
And on rare occasions
We take weekend vacations
To Chicago, Cave City,
And NJ we roam

We miss everyone dearly
We will try to visit you yearly
And we think you
Should all visit here
We are liking Ohio
Though we’d love to be nearby-o
All our friends and our family
So dear


Merry Christmas! And Happy New Year!

Home Sweet Home

I always knew I didn't feel like our apartment was home. It's nice enough. I like the two bathrooms. And the kitchen's not so bad. But I'm just not at home there. It's a little too small, Ben has no place to garden, I'm a 1/2 hour away from any viable shopping center... and the list goes on.

I have had visions of hope for moving. I first thought Ben and I might buy a home here. But then we decided that we shouldn't. Even if we're here for 2 more years, it just doesn't make enough monetary sense to us at this point. And then, for a brief couple days I thought maybe we'd move from Ohio altogether. Nope. We're here. Probably for a couple more years.

Are you seriously telling me I have to stay couped up in this little apartment for two more years!?!? Of course I don't! So, I'm lobbying for a move. Ben's a sucker for a lawn. And double bonus (in the only way this could possibly be seen as a bonus) -- we have another mouse. GROSS! And who wants to stay in a mousy apartment? I mean, really.

I can just taste victory. I'm already doing the happy dance in the living room of our new rented single family unit in my mind.

A bright morning with a brooding glow

Today I woke up to good news -- my hair looks soft and luxuriously silky. Sweet. These days are rare for me and are days to be treasured.

Despite my good fortune, I still find myself riddled with angst. And here I am, sitting in my office, feeling it fester. As I think it over, I realize my angst could be caused by many things. In the police line-up of fester-causing offenders, I eye the many likely suspects --

Suspect #1 -- my mother ever-so-gingerly asked me on the phone yesterday if I was planning on starting a family. I DO mean every so gingerly. She's often ginger about sensitive topics. But it makes me think that this is something I should be anticipating and planning somehow. I realize she has some expectation in this regard. Yipes.

Suspect #2 -- I keep brooding over the fact that my friend has a treadmill she wants to give away and I, who would be delighted to take it off her hands and have dreamed of having a treadmill at home for years, have nowhere to put it in our little apartment. For the love.

Suspect #3 -- Ben's final estimate for completing his car (which we have been much anticipating) finally came in and is going to make us part with a big chunk of our savings if we want to finish the car (which we do). I hate parting with money. Especially for cars. If I have to spend it, I'd rather spend it on a fabulous vacation.

Suspect #4 -- the many things that battle for my free time -- more school (I just found out my employer, a university, has an MBA program for part-timers. Who wouldn't want a free MBA degree?). Getting back into community theater -- that would make me more happy than more school, probably. But it wouldn't make me as marketable. But then there is YW and then I wouldn't have enough time for that. Or I could take cooking classes. I could also benefit from working out more or... I feel like I should know by now what would make me most happy. I feel as though I have some right, at my fabulously mature 30 years, to do what would most make me happy. Right? But it's harder than it sounds.

Suspect #5 -- I miss the dress business. Terribly. How fabulous that project was. I would really like to be spending my free time on that. And I can't yet. The truth is hard sometimes.

Suspect #6 -- I haven't traveled somewhere cool since my honeymoon and I think that's too long.

The desire to live life to its fullest and cram it as full as possible seem to be synonymous for me. And when I'm not, or confused about how, I get the ensuing angst. What am I going to do? I'm going to get to work. I had a day off yesterday and I think it threw me off. Back to the grind I love/hate. I'll work on shaking down and interrogating these suspects later.

My one solace -- at least I'm taking the time to learn Spanish during my commute. The dream of my 3 month sabbatical in South America honing mi espanol is not dead. Even if it's not realistic. :)

Back on NBC....bringing it home!

So, several of my friends have accused me of sleeping with Brian Williams (I don't) or selling my body for this kind of PR (I didn't...but I would) and alas, we were back on NBC.

The video is here: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3032619/#33610789

The Results Are In for Crest Advanced Seal White Strips

A few weeks ago I decided to indulge myself and, especially since I had a coupon, purchased a packet of Crest Advanced Seal White Strips. Ah, good old vanity. I have done teeth whitening once before. However, I wasn't sure last time how well they worked. All I knew is that they made my teeth incredibly sensitive. I hate that.

BUT, I like white teeth. So, I decided this time to do my due diligence and take "BEFORE" and "AFTER" photos. Crest Advanced Seal White Strips take 14 days. For those of you who don't know, that is an ENTIRE HALF OF A MONTH. I rarely commit to anything for that long. As I suspected, and though I tried to fight it, I just couldn't do the strips for 14 consecutive days. It probably took me a good 3 1/2 weeks to actually finish all 14 days worth of strips. I don't know how that may have affected my results. In any case here they are:


BEFORE



AFTER



Not bad, eh? I'll consider myself satisfied. So, there you go -- an unbiased review of Crest Advanced Seal White Strips. Now, what I don't know is if they are any better than the white strips that were 15 bucks cheaper right next to them on the store counter. Perhaps I'll look into that in another 6 months or so. I don't know. I really HATE the process of whitening my teeth. What I sacrifice in the name of beauty!

Side note: I have meant to post these results for a week or so, but I do find it a bit tragic that I am upstaging Jefe's really cool post (see below) so soon. You all should totally check out the video. I did. And as I am clearly a sucker for a good cause, I am now providing food for a cute orphan in Afghanistan every month. So, what I'm really trying to say is,"Watch at your own risk." Congrats on the organization's recognition, Jefita. That is just really cool.:)

CharityHelp International and the news

I thought I would share some fun/personal news with you....my charity (CharityHelp International www.charityhelp.org) and one of the projects we run in Afghanistan was featured on NBC Nightly News tonight with Brian Williams. I thought I would send out some links.

Hope it isn't too invasive or burdening of your spam box. If you have some friends you want to forward the message on to...feel free!

Video: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3032619/#33557068

Webpage: http://dailynightly.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2009/10/30/2114422.aspx

More on the thoughts of CSOT

So, I haven't thought about CSOT (Constant State of Temporary) much in the last few months...and the truth is I have been so busy running around, that not many decisions are hanging around for my perusal or deliberation. But I happened upon a lovely little quote from a dear friend of mine in the UK (you know who you are) that epitomizes some of the thoughts behind CSOT.

The quote is: "You can only steer a moving ship" - John Smith While this seems so very basic, and one of those kind of "duh" comments, I am hoping that it is actually one of those "ah hah" moments! How often do we want or seek direction without movement or momentum? How often are we instructed to take action and continually seek guidance? Are we ever instructed to not act until guidance is received?

This is short and sweet, but I thought I would drop it in there while I had the time to think about it (ok, I don't really have the time, I more have this thought in my head, and out of fear of forgetting said thought, I posted it in hopes of dispersing it and preserving it for future reflection.)

Weekly Word: Equanimity

So, I went to visit a certain someone, whom only those in the know, know with whom I had the pleasure of visiting, and oddly enough they had this printout for a new word just for me....and now that word is to be shared with all the dear souls that read this blog (yes, I mean all 3 of you....and I think I am 1 of the 3! :) ).

The word is Equanimity (if you use this word in a sentence..you will get a Chocolate bar from me in the mail!).

Webster has to say the following about equanimity:

Main Entry: equa·nim·i·ty

Pronunciation: \ˌē-kwə-ˈni-mə-tē, ˌe-kwə-\

Function: noun

Inflected Form(s): plural equa·nim·i·ties

Etymology: Latin aequanimitas, from aequo animo with even mind

Date: circa 1616

1 : evenness of mind especially under stress
2 : right disposition : balance

The article handed to me was written by Shaila Catherine and has an interesting quote "Neither the coarse feeling of unpleasantness nor the agitated feeling of pleasure, equanimity, the Buddha said, is on eof the highest kinds of happiness, beyond compare with mere pleasant feelings. Superior to delight and joy, true equanimity remains undisturbed as events change from hot to cold, from bitter to sweet, from easy to difficult."

Now, I don't know how I feel about this. It gives or evokes the sense that emotional stability, removed from all effects of external stimuli would be the optimal sense of being and a desired homeostasis. I however would argue that this is not the optimal.

My family tends to be a very even keeled family. We don't have too many in the group that are all over the place emotionally, that gets overly excited or overly depressed....however, certain in-laws and others have commented on this as a negative rather than a positive....so I found it interesting that this equanimity was/is/could be perceived as the epitome rather than a void of emotional connection with ones surroundings.

A penny for your thoughts? (Really, a chocolate bar for your thoughts!)

Where I Went

I know, I know. I haven't been around lately. That is so unlike me. But I have been very busy. Not in the conventional sense of the word, i.e. driving around to various places in my car, working like a dog at my day job, or traveling the world. No, no. Rather, I've been off visiting places I really don't like to go and trying desperately to find my way out.

It's been almost a month since Ben and I celebrated our 1 year anniversary. (It was lovely, by the way). As the date approached, I had wanted to post something big and exuberant about how fabulous my husband is and how great this year has been. But truth be told, I wasn't really up for it. I didn't have the gusto I needed to write it. Truth be told again, this year hasn't been "awesome" per se. I'd say a more accurate description would be "challenging". And who wants to write about that?

Now before anybody gets any ideas, let me lay to rest a few concerns you may have. I can easily tell you that my husband is fabulous. I am still trying to get him to cook me dinner, but aside from that he's really just great. And I still have hopes of succeeding at the dinner thing. :)

But marriage and moving and changed routines and new jobs and new.... everything -- well, it all threw me some curve balls I wasn't expecting.

I knew to expect a few challenges with all these life changes. I expected to miss good friends. I do. I expected to have to make adjustments in sharing my home with a male. I did (although not that many). I expected Ben and I to fight like children over whose turn it is to pray at night. we do that. And I expected to have my monthly grocery bill go up. It definitely has. But some things.... well you just can't anticipate everything.

Like what, you ask? Hands down, the biggest curve ball was revisiting me as I was at 13. And by 13, I mean the "riddled with baby fat and terrible acne" kind of 13. It's been so terrible. Really, you have no idea. I was waiting for the day I woke up to discover big, thick metal braces had cropped up all over my mouth. It was THAT bad.

Allow me to elaborate: for still inexplicable reasons, my skin has wreaked havoc all over my cheeks, nose, chin, forehead and any other resting spot it could find on my little face and littler forehead. I really had no idea marriage and moving to Ohio caused acne. I still don't know if it's one, the other, or a combination of them both.

And then there was the insatiable hunger I felt all year. Where did it come from? Again, marriage and Ohio are the only culprits that I can find. Well, as I tend to do when I'm hungry, I ate. But I was hungrier than usual, so I was also eating more than usual to satiate said hunger. As you might guess, gradually I got more and more "baby fat" --- which really only looks cute on babies.

I started dubbing it "5 lbs", even though at times the number really no longer applied to, well, the number. But I couldn't really bring myself to verbally acknowledge anything more than 5 lbs.

And then it got worse. Not only did I have the chub, but I wasn't fitting into all my clothes. My CUTE clothes. Now, here is where I seriously get concerned. We all know I have a fetish for clothes. Ben looks at my closet and marvels that I claim to "need" the entirety of its contents. But I run into problems when I can't maintain my weight. I can no longer call my clothes an investment if they only fit me temporarily. And if they're not a smart long-term investment, how will I justify my wardrobe? I won't be able! And what am I going to wear if I can't wear.... all my clothes? Now, THAT is seriously a problem. I knew this needed to be nipped-ay in its bud-ay.

I totally took a proactive approach. Many days, I went to bed very, very hungry, denying my appetite that seemed to be on overdrive. And I ran... a lot. I watched everything I ate. Ok, I didn't give up ice cream, but I never give up ice cream. I did watch the ice cream I ate, (literally and figuratively. Mmm.) I also got a new prescription from a dermatologist for my acne. And I washed my face religiously both morning AND night.

Pro-active shmo-active. None of it had any effect. Puzzling. Believe it or not, previously I didn't try very hard to maintain my weight or my relatively decent complexion. I worked out 2-3 times a week and washed my face in the morning. That's it. And now? I should be looking like a goddess at this point! I was training for a marathon, washing my face twice a day, going hungry, taking meds for my skin.... but still NO SUCCESS. Confused? I was.

Decidedly riddled with acne and chub, I was BEYOND frustrated for the whole of this last year. That's a long time. Poor Ben. I would periodically go off in the car and cry about my descent into misery after having made the tragic mistake of marrying, moving to Ohio and thus, somehow, losing all cuteness I ever had. How was I to know this was what was waiting for me on the other side of the alter? I thought I was jumping into an abyss of all future happiness. In reality, I was just jumping into a replay of my adolescent misfortunes. How tragic.

My one solace has been that the husband I had picked up in all this was, in fact, still great. To Ben's credit, he never once said anything derogatory about my acne or my weight. Not a word -- as bad as it's been, I'm sure it would have been much worse had I found out my husband only loved me because I was thin or had clear skin. He apparently loves me for other reasons, and I have the entire last year as proof. As good as that is to know, however, his fabulousness didn't alleviate either of the problems at hand.

Failing in all efforts to surmount and overcome challenges might cause one to want to give up on life, one being me. Temporarily at least. And I'm not one to support deprivation or underestimate a new strategy. Giving up could totally be the way to go (at least for a little while). So I indulged myself one week and sat on the couch eating chocolate chips for dinner almost every night. You can even ask Ben. It was made more memorable when he tragically sat on two lingering chocolate chips and melted them onto his jeans (on two separate evenings with two different pairs of jeans, no less). Basically, I looked weight gain in the face and brashly taunted, "Bring it." It was fabulous.

Of course, then there's always a day of reckoning when one is reckless. For one thing, Ben banned me from eating chocolate chips on the couch (I'm glad I enjoyed it while I had the chance). And then of course there was the largess of my waist to deal with. At the end of the week I got on the scale to see what damage I had done, expecting to have to devise some heretofore undevisable plan as to how to lose the excess that had now compounded on top of the excess that was already well-established on my short, little frame.

If this entire ordeal weren't already inexplicably odd, here's where it gets even more so. When I finally hopped (I'm using the term "hop" loosely) on the scale, I found that I hadn't added any pounds at all. Quite the opposite. I had in fact lost 2 pounds. As I gazed down at the scale, I was loving my body more and more by the minute for not one reason but for two. Not only had my frame shed some undesirable chub, but a diet high in chocolate was apparently an excellent weight loss plan for me! That's the best news of the millennium, to date. Finally, a diet plan I can get along with!

Since then, things have only gotten better. My skin, again inexplicably, is now clear. And I have consistently kept off five pounds of the "5 lbs" with, basically, no effort and no hunger pangs. I'm happy to say I don't care if I ever lose the rest. Ok, maybe I care a little. But all the same, I feel like I have myself back and my visit back to age 13 has been curbed.

What was it? I have a theory. I theorize that my body was under duress, both physically and subconsciously, because of all previously mentioned life changes. Therefore, it caused my skin to go loco. I hypothesize that the move to Ohio made my body want to bulk up for the long winter ahead in this new barren land, causing my insatiable hunger. And now that a year has passed, my skin and my body are suddenly in agreement --- we're not in a strange land. We're home. And we're no longer dealing with change. We're in a routine now so we can stop freaking out.

But really, I have no freaking clue. I keep having this phrase play in my head, "after the scourges are over." What a plague. Despite the fact I don't know what all of this was about, I can still learn lessons from the experience. For example: I would not make a good military wife. Also, it's rough going back to being 13(I like me in my almost 30's much better).

So, in case you were wondering, I'm back now and I hope to entertain you all with more frequent blogging in the near future.

Mothly Word...was Weekly Word, but I have been lazy!

I'm thinking....just wait...wait a minute....ok...now!

Sorry, I opened this page about 2 hours ago...and then got stuck doing some other things...you know that thing called work....which I don't really do, I only pretend to do.

Anyways, those that know me, know that I tend to call myself a geek/nerd. I like to read, I like computers, and I like technology in general. Recently, I was at a meeting and we were all asked to introduce ourselves (no, this meeting had nothing to do with meeting girls or declaring that I am an alcoholic, although both of the previous may be relevant, pertinent, and activities which I may indulge in from time to time.). In my introduction, I stated that I was a "geek" at which point a fellow attendee decided to indoctrinate me on the original definition of the word geek. I was so entirely enthralled with the definition that I have decided to share.

Main Entry: geek

Pronunciation: \ˈgēk\

Function: noun

Etymology: probably from English dial. geek, geck fool, from Low German geck, from Middle Low German

Date: 1914

1 : a carnival performer often billed as a wild man whose act usually includes biting the head off a live chicken or snake
2 : a person often of an intellectual bent who is disliked
3 : an enthusiast or expert especially in a technological field or activity

So, in reading the above....#2 may not shock you, except the part about being disliked....I mean really...doesn't everyone love geeks? #3 I think is the more modern/social definition of the word geek. But #1....I mean really....biting heads off of chickens? To say the least, I felt a bit foolish, odd, and at the same time proud (yeah....I did say odd didn't I?).

How often does someone associate you with something as eccentric as biting heads off of chickens? It is a rare day that I can walk around and say I bite heads off of chickens without everyone dropping their jaw, or losing their lunch, or just being absolutely disgusted.....as I probably would be if I ever saw this act in person.

So, alas, I am a geek.....and there is a reason that there are no chickens around my house....i try to stay away from temptation!

Interesting Read

So again, I slack...the only difference this time is that Sharona has slacked as well. Nonetheless, I think I will come through for all those that are information mavens...(by the way, I always refer to myself as a "geek", but did you know that "geek" has a really weird definition?....Weekly word coming up!).

Up, we have a study done by the Pew Charitable Trust on Mormons...since I am mormon, Sharona is mormon, and well, probably 90% of the people that know this blog exists are mormon, the post has significant value to those reading it. You can find it here.

Enjoy the read...I found some things very interesting, like the difference in education standards between converts and lifers. I also thought the ideological differences between single and married mormons was very interesting. I was hoping they would break that down to a gender coefficient, because that would have added a very interesting dynamic to the reading of numbers (just who is swaying whose beliefs?).

The ohter fairly shocking notion was that 35% of the mormon population believes that the Bible should be interpreted literally. I thought (perhaps to my self dissolusionment) that the Bible was to be read figuratively or allegorically and rarely literally (except for perhaps historical facts and what not)....and have you noticed that I use parantheticals way to much to make ridiculous inoccuous and wasteful asides?

Anyways, enjoy...and hope to share more often.

P.S. Tell me that Elder Holland's talk at conference wasn't just amazing? And also, now that the Priesthood sessions are all on the web....how many women are watching them?

INTJ - You can call me Bob the Builder!

So, for reasons not to be disclosed, I took a personality test the other day, and while I don't know how accurate or inaccurate they are, we'll go for it for now.

If you go over to http://www.humanmetrics.com/, you can take the Myers-Briggs Jung test for free, and it will give you 4 little letters and a score corresponding to each letter. The bigger the number, the more you possess that specific trait.

After I took the little test, the little site told me I was an INTJ...or rather Introverted, iNtuitive, Thinking, Judging. Well, let's just say that 4 little letters aren't all that indicative to me of anything other than 4 little letters, so I went to do a bit more research and found this little site: http://typelogic.com/intj.html Whatever your personality type, it will give you a reasonable idea of what someone interprets those characteristics to mean.

Now, normally I don't get into all this classification mumbo jumbo. It seems simplistic, limiting, and well, odd to me, but nonetheless, I am going with it. After reading the description of INTJ, I thought it was fairly accurate, or accurate enough for me to give it more than a 50% reliance factor, and probably more like a 60 - 70% reliance factor...which in my book, is really pretty high.

Anyways, if you have free time, or comments on the Myers-Brings...would love to hear it. According to the personality test, apparently I have picked a very apt career, which is nice to know, and am destined to conquer the world, which we all know is my life long dream and ambition.

Oh and apparently if you are an ENFP or ENTP, you and I should get together for a drink or something! :)

A blast from the past

So, I have been a slacker of late and I honestly am not sure I have a very good excuse. Life has been busy, but no more busy than usual....perhaps, it is because I have been away from home more rather than just working at home (shhhhh....don't tell anyone!)

Anyways, last Monday and Tuesday, I took the young men in my ward on a little camping trip...oh the good ol' days. Anyways, I was conversing with the other adult on the trip...wonderful guy, and we were reminiscing of a camping trip we went on when I was like 12. It was probably one of the craziest, but most memorable trips I had as a boy scout. And lo and behold, he had pictures and journal entries of the trip.

I don't normally post pics or anything like that, I mean Sharona is the expert on that, but I guess I'll do it this time. Here are a few pics from all those years back....enjoy!

This is all the junk we carried for the few days we were out there. This is in Adirondack Park, New York on a 4 day trip.



This is Scott Whale, Mike Janosko, and myself, paddling in what was probably the craziest canoe trip ever!!



We were freezing...and I mean freezing! Let's just say fires are real nice. The funny part about this campout...Jim Perucca brough a CHAINSAW!!! That is where all that fantastic wood came from. Unfortunately, he also sank his boat, and so we had to go diving for food!! :)



Ahhhh...this is the crew....the crazy bunch we were. Norm Swindler is missing from the crew, but eh, you get the idea. I was a little tike, I was.

Mammoth Cave National Park

This past weekend, Ben and I drove down to Cave City, Kentucky as part of a general effort we are making to adventure and see the amazing sights around us in this new place called Ohio. Cave City is about a three hour drive south of Cincinnati, so we decided to leave Friday after work and stay in a hotel/motel for the night and see the sights on Saturday. As we drove into the ever-luxurious Econolodge late Friday night, we were a little shocked by the parking lot. First we saw this:



And when we got back to the parking area by our little room, we saw this:



I know what you're thinking. It's a sure sign the economy is in the dumps when all the corvette owners in the world have to stay at the EconoLodge. Alarming signs of the times, indeed! Well, take heart my dear friends. It just so happens this is probably just an indication of sold out rooms in plusher digs. It was the annual Corvette Show down in Cave City this past weekend. Who knew? Here's a great shot of one of the older beauties, taken the next morning:



Ben and I woke up early. We wake up early most days (though not so early for some people, I'm sure) to get to work on time. Unfortunately, we find more and more these days that this habit we've made dies hard on days even when we don't have work. Tragic. And since Kentucky is an hour earlier than we are (we're the last hanger's on to the East Coast time zone even though we're significantly far away from the coast) we found ourselves bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 6:30 am, rearing to go. We showered, got ourselves ready and went down to enjoy the free continental breakfast. I ate a bagel and Ben found his pancakes inedible, and the fruit juice was questionable, so we ended up doing less enjoying than we would have liked. We decided to supplement Ben's breakfast with McDonald's Egg McMuffins -- breakfast of champions.

And then off to Mammoth Cave! They had several tours starting early that we were excited to try out. We wanted to get there in plenty of time to get a ticket.

Ah, well, sometimes the best laid plans go to waste, and the not so well laid plans, well.... you can imagine. As it turns out the note at the bottom of the Mammoth Cave Website where it reads, "*Not available by reservation. Tickets can only be purchased the day of the tour at the visitor center," doesn't mean you can't buy tickets before. It just means the one tour on the list that has an asterisk of the 20 tours they have available can't be bought ahead of time. When we got there at 7:45, all the tours I had any interest in were sold out. I was devastated and, to be honest, totally ticked at their website information that was (in my humble opinion) misleading. I had driven 3 hours for this! All the good tours are gone!?!? Seriously?! I wanted to just turn around and go home. Ben, however, calmed me down just enough to buy a couple of tours worth of tickets to the less challenging, but still available. I was pretty certain I wasn't going to like them. But we were already there. And though I might not end up enjoying them, Ben might.

On our first cave tour, we had a nice small group of people and we were made aware of the reason for the Cave network's name. We already read on the website that the caves were the longest system in the world, with 360+ miles of caves inside. But the caves are not only extensive. Individually they're areas inside can be huge. The first room we were in was a 1/4 acre large. Here are a few cool pictures from our first tour:



Above is a picture of the "natural opening" to the cave. It's pretty huge.



When they were in the caves in the last 1700's, early 1800's they used it to mine saltpeter to make gun powder. You can see some of the equipment they brought down in this picture.





I think these two pictures above give you a good idea of how huge some parts of the inside of this cave are. Or they would if I could make them any larger. :)

Overall, aside from it's extensive and sometimes huge tunnels, there wasn't a whole lot more to see in this cave tour. Our guide, Bobby, reminded us that Mammmoth Cave is not famous for its stalactites, stalagmites or other amazing features in the cave. It is famous because of it's size. So there you go. We had all been made aware we could stop looking for more wonderment. And I found it relieving to know, despite the fact I wasn't in awe of the cave's beauty, I also "shouldn't" be in awe of it.

After this two hour tour, Ben managed to get me to go back for one more, through another area of the cave. I was trying to raise my spirits up to be enjoyable company, but I did a pretty crappy job, if I do say so myself. It wasn't terrible, but I'd say it may have potentially ben slightly reminiscent of pulling teeth for me.:) For a lot of the tour I just didn't say anything, so to minimize the negativity that might come out of my mouth. If you can't say something nice....

Looking back, I think I should have known I wouldn't like this very much. I don't know what I was thinking with all these guided tours. I don't even like being guided through aerobics class. And on our second tour, our group was so large that I felt like I was in a never-ending line for a ride at Disneyland, with the tour group of over 140 people. Only with cave tours, the line IS the ride. I'm used to caving where you get "down and dirty" and have to twist yourself into funny shapes so you can get out. I came out clean as a whistle from these two tours and I think I might have had to duck my head and shift my hips a couple times. Somehow, not quite the same effect.

Not to say it was all a waste. Or painful. On the bright side, The second tour ended up having some of the coolest formations we'd seen and 80% of the formations there are to see at Mammoth Cave (jackpot, I guess). Here are a few pictures of what they call Frozen Niagara:





Our pictures don't do this feature justice. It was much cooler in real life. One part of the tours I enjoyed (yes, I did end up enjoying at least one part. Maybe two.. I'll have to think about it) was a little bit of comic relief in the naming of various parts of the caves. For example, they had an area in one of the caves where they had installed toilets. The called this area the "The Great Hall of Relief". Below is a picture of an area they like to call "Fat Man's Misery."



He he he he. They make me laugh.



And here is a shot of how they would "smoke" their names into the ceiling. I checked one of the covers on the lights they had in the cave to see if the names weren't on the cover of the light instead of actually smoked onto the ceiling (so, I can be a little bit of a skeptic sometimes..). I got in trouble for that. You can't stray too far from the tour, apparently. Woops. I like getting into trouble sometimes.:)

I complained to Ben a couple times how we were doing family friendly vacations and we weren't even a whole family yet (meaning we have no children). He was a bit surprised I didn't like this activity as much as I didn't like it when I had honestly told him before that I had a good time at Mt. Rushmore, which is also very kid-friendly. I reminded him that when I went to Mt. Rushmore I WAS there with children -- my niece and nephews. See, if you take your kids to they little, shallow wave pool, you can very well have fun with them there. But you don't usually see a lot of adults hanging out by the little, shallow wave pool of their own volition, do you? No-- because it's not as fun to do kid stuff without the kids, in my opinion. And I was banished to the kiddie tours without having any kiddies. And I just didn't like it very much.

This, aside from a much anticipated, luxurious dinner, was the big event to celebrate Ben's and my 1st anniversary. I spent the activity sulking and complaining (with mild signs of amusement at times) while Ben tried to pacify me and enjoy himself. Sometimes, the best laid plans... you get the idea. Let's hope this isn't some foreshadowing of the eternity that awaits us. I think the celebratory event was very non-reflective of the year that preceded it, thankfully. And just maybe, next year, instead of the outdoors, I'm gonna suggest we check in at the Four Seasons and go on a shopping spree. I think that would be sure to elicit better moods from me. :)

Hi, My Name is Dora

Some days, I wonder. Really, I do. I wonder about the mysteries of life. I wonder what I need to do. I wonder why I do the things I do... or don't do. And I wonder, especially lately, how I forget some things.

For EXAMPLE -- I was chaperoning at a Stake Youth event for church a couple of weeks ago. It was kind of a new thing. I hadn't chaperoned before. And I was a little flustered with all these young teens in my car. That was new too. And I was driving somewhere I'd never been before. And maybe it'd been a long week (we'll just say it was). Well we got there. All the girls got out and enjoyed the hamburgers and got ready for the pool party. I sat down and started to chat with one of my fellow YW leaders, Debbie. Momentarily, she left me. Moments after that, my cell phone rang.

Debbie: "Sharon?"
Sharon: "Yeah."
Debbie: "Did you know you left your car running?"
Sharon: "Are you serious?"
Debbie: "Yeah. It's running."
Sharon: "No."
Debbie: "Yeah. It's totally running. Do you want me to take your keys out and bring them to you."
Sharon: "Um... Yes?"

So I don't think I've ever done that before. I wonder how on earth I did it. There's a certain method, a kind of ritual, we each have to systematically park, get out of, and leave a car. I do it every day.... multiple times. And for me, that ritual usually entails important steps, such as turning off the engine, taking the keys out of the ignition and locking the door behind me as I leave. I skipped ALL of those steps. It's a wonder I was able to make it OUT of the car, all things considered. I mean, really!

But like I said, it was just that once. Right? I was totally out of my element. I was thrown off! No big deal.

Well, maybe. But then something else happened:

A few weeks ago, Ben and I went to go see the last Harry Potter. I love Harry Potter. I've read the whole series. Only once, of course, but I enjoyed that one time with each book immensely like a gorging addict. After we saw this last Harry Potter movie, Ben (who has not read the books) asked me how it all ends. And I thought. And then I thought some more. Then I replied I didn't know. He assailed me for being a liar. How could I refuse to tell him!?! Keep him in the dark?! How cruel could I be?!? But I protested to his accusations and stated over and over again, as honestly as I could, that I couldn't remember at all how it ended. I remember enjoying reading the last book. But I couldn't remember for the life me how the story went. Odd. I HAD read it, after all. You'd think I'd remember SOMETHING.

To remedy this problem, this week I went back and I read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. This is a rare thing for me to do. It's normally hard for me to have patience with rereading a book because I am so familiar with the sentences. I just end up breezing over the whole thing because I pretty much know it already and thus have a general policy to not read books twice. But since I had this unmistakable case of amnesia in regards to this particular book, I made an exception. Even so, I had a sneaking suspicion it would all come back to me as I went through the chapters, just like reconnecting with an old friend.

I Couldn't have been more wrong. SHOCKING! The whole book ending was totally shocking ALL OVER AGAIN, as I'm sure it was shocking to me the first time. It was just like th first time (though I can't really remember that either. Go figure)! I couldn't believe I'd forgotten that story! Those twists! That's crazy. I'm crazy.

Thus, I wonder some days. As I pondered over these to recent mental mishaps, I remembered seeing Finding Nemo on TV a couple weeks ago. Ah, Dora. Now there's a character I suddenly find myself able to truly identify with.

Top Ten Reasons To Be a Big Banker

10. People want to give you their money.

9. As you recite your self-affirmations each morning, you can say with conviction, "You are too big to fail." The government agrees with you.

8. Sheryl Crowe will play at your business party.

7. You just bought Hugh Heffner's house on the cheap and surprise, surprise, the price tag came with a bonus package of 3 playmates, included with purchase.

6. Your employer promises you bonuses without you having to do anything at all. You can even do them harm, and they will still give you the money.

5. The government will also give you lots of money to do whatever you want with, and will then feign "frustration" later at their "surprising" inability to tell you how to use it.

4. Getting sued is no big deal. It turns out, settling for $15 million isn't so bad when you're subtracting it from $4 billion.

3. If you should feel animosity and hatred from the entire US population, you can always buy a small country of your own to rule and move there.

2. If your branch down-sizes, you can always go to Plan B -- a hot new seminar series -- how Bernie got away with it for so long, and how you can too.

1. Shareholders have an inability to discern the difference between being a top talent and being overpaid, but think that both are good, thus ensuring that you will never have to go to Plan B.

Banks are poopy. I want my money back.

Weekly Word, "Albatross"

Albatross
Function: noun
Definitions:
1) any of a family (Diomedeidae) of large web-footed seabirds that have long slender wings, are excellent gliders, and include the largest seabirds
2) a : something that causes persistent deep concern or anxiety b : something that greatly hinders accomplishment: encumbrance

I read this in an article that was describing how home mortgages may now seem to their owners. Oh, this poor, sad little economy. In the middle of all this, it makes me kinda grateful I never had much to lose. You can't lose what you don't have.

Can anybody think of a more inspiring, or at least funny, way of using that word? I like it. But I prefer not to dwell on it in its current context. Help a sister out, will ya?

When "Just Do It" Doesn't Get It Done

I know you're all dying to know how it's going with the whole running gig. Ok, so you're not. Too bad. It's my blog. Mine and Jefita's, I mean.

Well, I've been up and down and all around -- literally and figuratively. My last blog post on running was coming after a high of just having completed a 10.5 mile long run without having stopped. Nike's mantra was working for me. I told myself I would do it, I tried and I conquered.

Unfortunately, the mantra became nothing more than a gimmick the next week. I'd set out to increase my miles to 13. To my disappointment, I only got to 10.5. And I walked part of it. Not only did I not improve, but I did worse. Sad? To say the least. I felt pretty discouraged and as I surmised, discouragement is totally toxic. If I couldn't "Just Do It", how was I going to get it done?

Well, the next couple weeks I didn't train so hard. Not all because of discouragement -- I had a family reunion the week after that run. I did run once, but I really thought better of it on most days and decided I was going to primarily vacation and visit with my family (the least I could do since they flew in from Europe and the West Coast and Ben & I drove 15 stinking hours just so we could all be in the same place for a while). So I didn't do much running. The week after that I got myself to the gym, but I only ran once and did cross training instead on the other days. My legs felt so tired still. And I didn't do a long run on the weekend. I didn't want to. I wasn't motivated. As I sat back and nursed my fatigued legs and my hurt pride, I was thinking of post-poning my marathon entry till the next year. Or maybe I'd just do a 1/2 marathon again....

Well, I've been mulling it over. And I talked to a few fellow runners. And I got some advice. And I learned/remembered a few things. 1) We all have good weeks and bad weeks. Just because I had one, terrible, long run doesn't mean I'm finished. Who knew?! 2) I need to run fewer freaking hills!!! for peat sakes. I really am going up and down on every road all the time. They are huge and they are everywhere around our neighborhood. And they are so unforgiving. A lovely friend from my church, Maura, recommended a nice stretch of road that is good, long and totally flat just 1 1/2 miles away from my home.

So I decided I could give it another go. However, I did a few things differently. After all, failing once was bad enough. If I failed to run 13 miles twice, it was going to be a rough blow. I had to give myself as much room for success as possible.

1) I divided to conquer -- Ok, I didn't really plan this. It just kinda worked out this way. But we can pretend it was all part of my brilliant training scheme. I was invited to run with some friends in a local 5k, so I did. But I ran it kinda fast because I'm kinda stupid and very competitive. It's great for race times, but not so good if you want to run long. So I did that in the am and when I got done, I could feel that my legs needed to rest before I did more. So I tried for the other 10 miles around 6pm that night.

2) I got rid of the a majority of the hills and worked that new fabulous flat road into my route. It was so HEAVENLY. I LOVE jogging on flat ground. I'd all but forgotten how nice, friendly and easy it is.

3) I skipped cross-training that week. I needed all my energy for the task at hand.

Well, it worked. I did it. Granted, it was in portions. But it WAS within 24 hours. That's a start. So maybe I haven't given up yet.

Another thing I'm rethinking -- all this cross-training. Ok, I was only working it in like once a week. But I think it wears me out a little too much. I might go back to just running 3x's a week and calling it good.

As you can see, training is proving to be a little trickier than I thought. Truth be told, I am not an energizer bunny. I wear out. SO, as I play around with this crazy marathon idea, I'll let you know how it goes.

Conversations On Children

Me: "Adrian's starting to show. I think she's getting excited about it. I told her not to worry. I would do more than enough worrying for her."

Benjamin: "Why do you say that?"

Me: "Because I totally feel overwhelmed for her? Besides, she just got married, which is already a pretty big change. Now everything for her is going to change. And IS changing, actually."

Benjamin: " I don't see why you think about it like that."

Me: "Well, if you were about to gain 20 lbs and get stretch marks and go through all sorts of physical changes and then have a baby and stop working and have a child to take care of permanently.... do you think you might find that overwhelming? It's not like you can get tired of the baby and give it back a year later."

Benjamin: "Well, yeah."

Me: "That's why."

I don't know about you, but it makes sense to me. Maybe Benjamin can be the stay-at-home dad when we get around to having kids. He doesn't seem daunted by parenting at all. Brave you parents are. Very brave. Talk like Yoda I do sometimes. Scared stiff of children-having I still am. :)

Making History

It's been a long time -- at least 10 years. Maybe more. Every year I ask my mom to make me "gumboats" for my birthday. But she never does. It's not because she doesn't love me. She has good reason. 1) Plums, a key ingredient, aren't in season in October. 2) They take a freaking long time to make. 3) It was really a dish Opa used to make. So while she may know how, it's not like it was HER tradition to make them.

However, this past Sunday I decided I had waited long enough. I wanted those precious plum dumplings (called "gombocs" in Hungarian). And I wanted them soon. Well, the stars finally aligned because plums were in season and I had the wherewithall and time to do them myself.

The making of them was quite an experience, as cooking with any of my mother's self-written recipes is. The fun began as I started to read her instructions. My mom's cooking instructions are often a little confusing, or missing helpful details, or containing some instructions in a nonsequential, unorganized manner which is other than what one might otherwise have expected. Unless, of course, you were expecting a recipe from my mother.

The hilarity continued as I tried my darndest to follow the instructions. Once you've mashed all the potatoes (the base ingredient for the dough), you're supposed to add 3 cups of flour. I had halved the recipe, so I had set out 1 1/2 cups of flour to work with initially. The instructions said to "work as much flour as you can into the potatoes". As instructed, I worked as much flour as I could into my mashed bowl of potatoes -- about 3 to 4 cups worth. Uh oh. Maybe I mis-measured my potatoes? In the end, I figured as long as it looked like potato dough, I should be good. Right? Right. Moving on...

Then there was the advice column. "You don't want to put too many into the pot at one time. Sticking them together is a tragedy, and having them split open is another!" Tragedy?!?! I did't want tragedy. No way. Only perfectly nonstuck, non-holy, yummy dumplings were coming out of MY pot!

Well, try and try as I might, I had tragedy with about 1/2 of my dumplings. Holes everywhere. Note to self -- don't lay the dumplings on top of each other in a bowl as you're waiting to add them to the pot. Lay them out separately on a flour-covered counter top. You live and learn, I guess.

My other favorite instruction, "You may want to lift one out and taste it, which usually won't be any big sacrifice, to determine if the batch is ready." I did in fact taste a holy dumpling and was grateful to discover it was no sacrifice. And it didn't end up being as tragic as I was expecting. Apparently "tragedy" is a relative term in this recipe.

Reading the recipe was almost like having my mother in the kitchen right there with me. It was delightful and hilarious -- very accurate for working with my mother in any kitchen. And below are pictures for evidence of this most delicious Hungarian family tradition. I may need some practice with this dish. And while it may take a while to make them, I also consider this to be no big sacrifice. Yum Yum Gumboats!

Post Family Reunion

Just to alert everyone, Jefita and I are now back from the family reunion and are now just slacking off from writing on the blog.

The Family Reunion

So, just to alert everyone and all...the gathering of Neu's is taking place starting on Sunday, so the blog might be a little slow or not updated....but rest assured we will remember all of you that read this little blog (all 3 of you that is! :)

Checking In

It doesn't take much to ruin your efforts. In my case, I almost threw away my dedication and hard work in a mere 2 days. Thank goodness I took a turn for the better at the last hour and thwarted failure. I finally got myself to the gym at 8:20pm, which is before closing time(9pm), and ran my 4 miles as quick as my legs would carry me so I didn't have to stop before I'd finished. If I hadn't gone running yesterday, I wasn't going to get in my 3 days this week. And that would totally ruin my progress and training. Ok, maybe not totally. But it would have created a crack in my confidence and dedication to the goal of training. And self-doubt is incredibly toxic.


I have been keeping a log of my marathon training for the past 4 1/2 weeks. In that time, I've logged 56 miles. While this is skimpy by normal marathon training standards (most training programs recommend you run 25-50 miles per week),I find it encouraging. Already, I've run well over 2 marathons!

I also have been diligently caring for my plantaar fasciitis. I found a new kind of stretchy sports tape. The previous tape I was using started to fall off from the increase in humidity out here, making it somewhat ineffective and incredibly annoying. The new tape sticks to my legs while I run, but doesn't stick so well that it takes my top layer of skin when I take it off AFTER I run (I especially appreciate this feature). And my ankle, even after a 10.5 mile long run last weekend, seems to be feeling really good. Not cured. But good.

I'm not burnt out on my goal. I rather enjoy the running. I haven't suffered any feelings of dead legs or a feeling of dread in anticipation of running. It seems to me 3 times a week isn't a hard regimen to keep up with. But it's easy to get out of rhythm. And I almost didn't make it a priority the last couple days. I was SUPPOSED to go running Monday. But then I fell asleep and the next thing I knew the gym was already closed (curse their summer hours). It was almost a repeat on Tuesday. Thank goodness for the almost -- I would have been so sad!

This has brought to light the longevity in focus required to meet this goal. I'm coming on 5 weeks of consistent training, or 10 if you wanna be generous and include the weeks I was running regularly and gearing up to train. But I have all the way to November 1st to get to my goal!! That's another, count 'em with me, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,14,15,16 weeks! Seriously? I could fall off the wagon any NUMBER of times given that many opportunities.

I have some hope. In training, I've so far had to make some accomodations and concessions which make evident the existence of some dedication and staying power on my behalf. I've had to wake up at 6am and go running several times, just to fit it in. I've conceded to fitting in 1 day of cross-training to compensate and provide sufficient fitness training for my lower mileage training regimen. And I've found myself willing to run innumerable hills -- because that's all Fairfield, Ohio has to offer me if I want to run outside. These are my sacrifices that give me confidence. I place my offerings at the altar of the marathon gods in hopes they may find them pleasing and satisfactory. If I'm willing to do this (and believe you me when I say I really HATE running in the morning) I just might reach the marathon. I just might.

I mentioned that I almost failed, but I realize failure can have many definitions. I am running for a purpose, but that purpose is not to win a race. And it is not to run a marathon even. It is yet to be seen if my ankle will last. But it's pretty clear that the goal to run the race has been set and the entry form has been turned in. All that need not fail is my effort and dedication in reaching that goal.

If my body or life should thwart me, that's ok. Just don't let it be because I'm a slacker.

The weekly word/phrase: "The Peanut Gallery"

So, as those that may have come to know me a bit might know, I tend to spout out random ridiculous crap sometimes. And now that I am YM pres in my congregation, I get to spout out even more random ridiculous crap. And that has lead me to this weeks weekly word/phrase.

During Priesthood today, the boys, which provide men endless means of enjoyment, (mostly because I can mock them all day, and they seem to think that is affection, which is great, because they love my sarcasm :), were making large amounts of noise and obnoxious comments. That allowed me to utter the phrase...."Quiet in the Peanut Gallery" which was wonderfully poignant I thought. And then, as kids do all too often, they asked "What is the Peanut Gallery? What does that mean?"

Now me, I had never looked up the phrase peanut gallery. Who looks up that phrase? On top of that....who doesn't know what it means? I mean really, this is basic English or so I thought. So, I started to spout of at how at theaters, the cheap seats were called the peanut gallery because the poor people sat there and they served peanuts as food, and if they didn't like what was going on or were just drunk and disorderly they would throw peanuts and their shells! And alas, just to cover my **** (those four asterisks are for the word "self", but it makes it much more intriguing if you don't know what the word really is).

So alas we have our word/phrase for the week:

"The Peanut Gallery"

1. The hindmost or uppermost section of seating in a theater balcony, where the seats are cheapest.

2. A group of people whose opinions are considered unimportant: "Pressure is building ... to force ... Alan Greenspan to cut interest rates and pump up the money supply. [He] has politely ignored these catcalls from the peanut gallery" (H. Erich Heinemann).
3. A peanut gallery s an audience that heckles the performer. The term originated in the days of Vaudeville as a nickname for the cheapest (and ostensibly rowdiest) seats in the theater; the cheapest snack served at the theater would often be Peanuts, which the patrons would sometimes throw at the performers on stage to show their disapproval. The phrases "no comments from the peanut gallery" or "quiet in the peanut gallery" are extensions of the name.

In the late 1940s the Howdy Doody show adopted the name to represent their audience of 40 kids.

So, there you have it folks...the Peanut Gallery! Enjoy!

Getting To That Point

I was filling out one of those questionnaires the other day. You know the ones. You answer a bunch of questions and then send it to all your friends so they can get to know you better and see how funny you are. And then they do it back to you and you can, in turn, laugh about how funny and witty they are and marvel at your differences and similarities and revel in the nuances various quirks that make us all the individuals we are.

Well, one of the questions caused me to pause. It asked: Are you where you want to be in life? The question didn't seem very difficult at first. I did a quick emotional once-over and decided that, overall, I was a content person. I promptly posted my answer in the affirmative. But then I got to thinking... do I even know where I expect me to be in life? I don't think I do. And where exactly am I headed? Well, I don't think I know that either. And I suddenly wondered if I suffer from a gross lack of expectation. Me! Of all people! I set goals for myself on a bi-annual basis. You'd THINK I'd know where I am and am going. But really, I don't think I do. And I'm not sure what I think about that.

You see, I don't know that I expected myself to be married by now. It just so happens I am. I don't know if I expected myself to have children. It just so happens I don't. I don't know how much schooling I thought I'd have. I happen to think right now I have enough. I don't know if I expected to own real estate now. It just so happens it seemed like a good idea a few years ago. And I don't know if I expected to own a dog by now. It just doesn't seem like a good time yet. And suddenly I realize I made it very easy for me to be content with where I am. I never really wanted to be anywhere in particular. How could I disappoint myself?

Now, I've also thought about my life choices a lot lately. I never decided I wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer or a researcher or some other specific field that would take a lot of schooling but would be very profitable. I could have done so, maybe. But I never set the goal. And I had toyed with going to the Peace Corps. I didn't do it though. There were a lot of choices I didn't make that I think I could have and the choice may have been, well, not necessarily right or wrong, but just a choice that would have landed me somewhere very different. Or not.

It may be that I didn't want to make a choice and wanted to keep my options open. But where I am now is SOMEWHERE and I did inevitably make choices that led me to exactly this point. And here I am. Where? Well, I'm not sure. Thankfully, I'm content. Would I have been content had I made other choices? Maybe. Maybe not.

But what a convoluted way to get somewhere? I suddenly feel so directionless. Where do I expect to be in 5 years? I still don't know that. I need some life milestone markers on a sheet of paper marking the years of my life and then I'll post the milestones on the applicable years where I think I'll have gotten them accomplished by. And then I'll know whether or not I'm where I wanted to be. But I don't know what the milestones are. Heaven help me! I'm taking a test and I don't know any of the answers! And it's my LIFE, people!

I just feel so goally inadequate with that question. It EATS me. Suddenly just the pursuit of being happy seems so unaccomplished. So undefined. I need markers, dangit! I want some cold hard evidence that I actually am somewhere, that that somewhere is where I'd planned to be and a way of defining where that is. I need a measuring stick! Something!

And yet, I am pretty happy. Eh. On second thoughts, I'm just gonna keep with my current modus operandi and pick my goals willy nilly as I please. I'll get over the ambiguity of my uncertain future. Apparently it hasn't bothered me too much in the past, being I hadn't noticed before now. I guess my haphazard life suits me. How 'bout yours?

Weekly Word

Lately, my world is full of words I half-know. I'm trying to put words I half-know in the know. So maybe I could sound smart and make other people think I actually AM smart because of my impressive word usage. In my quest to appear to my fellow men to be smarter than the average bear, I offer up this week's Weekly Word:

Auspice
Function: noun
Definition:
1) observation by an auger, especially of the flight and feeding of birds to discover omens.
2)plural, kindly patronage and guidance
3) a prophetic sign; especially a favorable sign.

I had not idea it was so fortune-telling related. How scandalous a word. Oh, and I'm really just kidding about the impressing people thing. Really.

Too young?

So, I have totally been slacking in my blog postings the last while. Life has been a bit stressful, and well, when there is stress in my life, blogging doesn't really happen. As a matter of fact, it doesn't even cross my mind. Fortunately, Sharona is a dedicated sole, full of pictures, stories, and even has taken over weekly word duties....oh how lovely!! :)

Alas, I have decided to take some time to write a bit on the ol' blog. For the last little while I have had several conversations in regards to religion and its applicability in life...but I seem to always feel like I talk about religion, so I decided that I am going to write about the other topic I LOOOOVVVEEEE so much.....dating!

Everyone who knows me, knows I don't date much. Not because of opportunity, but because of lack of desire and/or time. I meet a ton of girls on a regular basis, and for some crazy reason, a lot of them seem interested in going out with me (I think its for the sex, but well, I don't think that works so well for them). Finding a quality girl is a lot more difficult to find then one might think. Most of the time they are not mormons, but that has never stopped me before. (no need for chastisement, lectures on temple marriage, or related....trust me I have heard it all.....I just don't meet that many mormons.) For the last while though, the girls that have been, shall we say, very persistent, ...they seem to be getting younger and younger....just the other day I was checking the law for what was the legal age in my state!! (Just kidding! I was not checking what was legal, but maybe I should have - don't tell anyone!)

So, the question then presents itself....how young is too young? Full disclosure I am 31...and shockingly only a few years into my career (yeah, I liked school a little too much). I have heard a bunch of stories. For example, the other day a friend of mine and I were out to dinner, and the waitress slipped me her number on the sly (no I didn't ask for it!), but the looks of her, she was maybe 23, and with my ability to guess ages, probably 19 or 20...but very cute, and we did exchange at least 2 or 3 very short and spontaneous quips, which is definitely enough to base a relationship out of. The conversation came up when my friend and I inquired as to how young is too you, because there was a fairly persistent individual at the ripe ol' age of 23 which I can't seem to shake without being a bit rude. Her response was it is all dependent on the "maturity level of the individuals."

Now, I don't know the average bear, but most of my life I have tended to date girls that were at a minimum my age, and the majority of the time a bit older. So, on the basis of maturity, either I was a fantastically mature teenager, or those mid XXXX somethings were really really immature. Granted, every time I have been to a palm reader or other soothsayer....they always start with "you are a very old sole"....but really how old can you be til it gets creepy? On the flip, one could probably comfortably say we were just sick and wrong....bring out the police and lock us all up. While I don't think I would recommend someone follow in my footsteps, I don't care too much for or about age as long as the girl is my age and older, but any time a girl is younger than me, yeesh, I get the heeebeeeejeeebeees! (I can't spell that word).

I have also heard the 1/2 your age + 7 rule...which on the whole seems logical, but in my situation, that puts the dating range down to like 23.....hello....can we say cradle robber...no offense, but that is just wrong W-R-O-N-G wrong.

Then there is the thing that gets around in my head....I have a sister that is XX and another sister older than me that is XX (ages are withheld for fear of sheer torture, retribution, and just downright anger!) and I am in the middle of the two. It always seems odd to date people younger than the one and older than the other.... at least now that I seem to look for people to date with a more serious intent rather than kicks and giggles.....although I do enjoy my fair share of giggles....not so much the kicks...hmmmm. The problem is that only leaves me with a few year discrepancy......oh the dilemnas!

I'm sure there are other metrics or rationale out there, and I am all inclined to hear them, so please oh please tell me your words of wisdom!

Weekly Word Double!!

This week, I decided to post not one, but TWO, weekly words. The first I heard as I was listening to the news on the radio this morning during my commute to work:

Abstruse
function: adjective
definition: difficult to comprehend; recondite

How appropriate, since when I heard it I found the word abstruse to be abstruse at the time. He he he.

The second word, oddly enough, I didn't hear anywhere recently. I was just thinking of abstruse and all the other words I don't know and then I thought, "Yeah. Like that word 'concomitant'. I don't know that one either." And then I thought it's kind of funny to think of a word you don't know. If I'm able to conjure the word without external clues or information, doesn't that mean that, in some way, shape or form, I must know it? Is this also not a bit abstruse? Well, whatever it is, I couldn't conjure the definition without external guidance of Merriam Webster.

Concomitant
function: also an adjective
definition: accompanying, especially in a subordinate or incidental way

My Perch

Every day, Monday thru Friday, I go to work. Thankfully, I like work. There are many reasons. And while many of the many reasons may not be viewable to the naked eye, there is one reason that is. That reason is because of where I work. Not only is the building cool, but so is the view from the office. I didn't get the best view of the outside of the building, but here is at least one angle, from which you can actually take a gander of my office from the outside:



I really enjoy this building because firstly, it reminds me of something I'd see in a Tim Burton cartoon movie, like James and the Giant Peach -- only it's a real building, even with all of its absurd angles and shapes. And it has lots of open space and high ceilings inside.

If you look where the doors are to the left of the trees, there is a big box of windows right above it. That's MY office!

And here is the view from my office:



Even more, if I were a taller sort of person, I would see a different view because, as you can see from this picture, the view just keeps going up, up and up:



Now, ordinarily I wouldn't boast about something like this. However, I think it is completely obvious that in a building full of elite PhD faculty and otherwise important people, I am a peon and completely undeserving of this most lovely perch. And somehow this makes it ok for me to brag away -- I mean share with you all. Ahem.

Now, a note about the less aesthetically pleasing, but somewhat entertaining views, this is the taping job that I wear around these days:



I wore it to church last week and no one said a word, so I just figured it wasn't as obvious as I thought. I found out otherwise when I went to church today and EVERYBODY was wondering what ON EARTH happened to me, "poor thing." I'm a bit of a pessimist and I don't really think this is going to stave off my ankle injury through marathon training for the next four months. It's good stuff, but I'm not sure anything is THAT good. But I will be sporting it for as long as I am going to be training, I think. Quite the fashion statement. Yeah, I think everyone will be wearing these sooner or later. It's totally cool. Ben said it looked like I was wearing "V" for victory -- right before he started to refuse to be seen with me in public.

Did I Do That?

So much for slim chances. Yesterday afternoon, I checked my email and found this inside my box waiting for me.

marathonmailer@nyrr.org to me

June 4, 2009

Countdown to the start November 1, 2009:
149 Days
Dear Sharon Young,
Entry Number:
Congratulations! You have been accepted to run the ING New York City Marathon 2009 on Sunday, November 1. On behalf of New York Road Runners, I welcome you to the 40th running of the world’s greatest marathon. We’re hard at work preparing to give you the experience of a lifetime.
Please visit the ING New York City Marathon Entrant Login at your earliest convenience. From this page you can provide or verify your emergency race-day contact, supply information that will allow us to assign your race-day transportation to the start, cancel your entry if needed, and take advantage of special offers for marathon entrants.
You’ll need your username and password to access the Entrant Login. If you don’t know your username and/or password, please e-mail reghelp@nyrr.org. Include your name and entry number in your e-mail.
Please consider using your marathon experience as an opportunity to raise money for Team for Kids or another worthy cause. Visit our charities page for more information.
We’ll be in touch frequently between now and race day, and we’ll post the latest news on the ING New York City Marathon site. We look forward to seeing you in November!
Sincerely,

Mary Wittenberg
President and CEO, New York Road Runners
Race Director, ING New York City Marathon

I think I'm in for it. This means I actually need to train. Aye aye aye.

Weekly Word: Sycophant

You guys might already know this word. I know I've heard it before, and I even know that it's a word I would not like to be associated with. But do I really know what it means? Well, when one of the professors at the university here decided to use it in an email to me in regards to one of the students in our graduate program who took his course (ouch!). I thought I'd look it up to make sure.

Turns out upon further investigation, I didn't have a firm grasp of the word previously. But now that I've checked, I can read or use or refer to it without hesitation. It's a fun word. It makes me wish I insulted people more often so I'd have more opportunity to use it. Word like this do that. And words like dungus-head. Or k-nigget. Too bad.

Which brings me to another thought..... If they used words like stapler or fax to describe people negatively, would people like being negative a lot less?

In case you too were unsure, here it is:

Sycophant
function: noun
definition: a servile, self-seeking flatterer.
synonom: parasite

Like I said, "Ouch!". Best wishes to you in avoiding the aquaintance of or other involvement with sycophants in the near future.

Running Updates

I still have not committed to the marathon, in case you were wondering. Though, I did impulsively enter myself into the New York Marathon lottery. But, seriously, I have slim chances of getting into that. But the lottery cut off was June 1st, so I totally HAD to enter it. See? I had no choice! Okay, I'm totally impulsive and illogical. But I still consider myself totally uncommitted.

I have, however, been picking up my mileage. For 3 weeks I have been running 3x a week. For you runners, this probably does not sound like a lot to you. Let me explain: I enjoy running and I consider myself a runner to some degree, but I am always humbled and amazed when I talk to people who run every day. Wow. My personal preference -- running 3x a week -- or less. Beyond that, my body really doesn't seem to like me very much. I feel fatigued & worn out and I get overuse injuries. Maybe I'd go to 4 for training, if I needed to and I felt like I could hack it, but usually I don't really hack it. And when I meet you people, I think, "How do you people do it?!" It's totally impressive. I just consider myself not physically made of the same metal. As Annie would say, "Anything you can do, I can do.... sometimes."

Again, as I mentioned previously, I'm still not sure I'm doing a marathon. I'm just trying to run more consistently to see if my body can handle it and to see if I actually have enough dedication & desire to do it. I've run half's before and I thought THAT was a long ways. Twice that?!!"What am I thinking!?!?" crosses my mind right after, "That would be cool." So I'm just experimenting right now.

Here's what my test results tell me so far:

1) Dedication may be there. I actually ran three times each week. That seems to be promising, right? And my mileage wasn't so bad either. 3-4 milers on my easy days and then a 5-6 miler on the weekend for a long run. I feel good with the frequency and the mileage. I might have hope of getting up to 26.2 big ones by October or November, if I keep this up.

However, there are a few causes for concern.

1) I didn't do much cross training. I did some mild weight training and core strengthening, but I didn't exercise at all on my off days. I would need to if I was really going to train for a marathon. Am I really willing to work out this much?

2)The inside of my right ankle is getting sore. I don't think it's achille's tendonitis and I don't think it's plantar fasciitis, but it's something like that. And while a doctor might be able to tell me, I don't have a PCP out here yet and would probably be a good month away from getting a new patient appt. I don't have that much time. And it will likely get worse if I don't take care of it properly, thus ruining marathon aspirations for this fall.

3) I'm already seeing the not so fun side of higher mileage. This one's just a small bummer, but I made the mistake of running my 4 miler yesterday and my 6.2 today rather than giving myself a day in between to rest. And I feel totally ill! I'm clammy, nauseous and I have a headache. Sometimes, the feel good you get from running doesn't always feel good right after. I know, I know. No pain, no gain.

Where does this leave me? Well, the biggest issue is going to be my ankle, for sure. I think I'll try taping it to give it some support and maybe get some inserts for my running shoes for some cushioning. We'll see if that helps ease the pain.

As for my weight training? Well, I'm a sucker for a soft couch when I see one, so my plan is to take my workout gear with me to work and go to the gym before I set my foot in the door and even SEE the couch. It sounds like a good plan, right?

And the sickness? I think I'm just gonna have to suck it up. High mileage doesn't always feel good to my insides. And to be honest, I've had way worse than nausea before and still kept it up. I might like to whine about it a little, but I'll take the tradeoffs for the satisfaction of having pulled through.

You just have to want things bad enough sometimes. And I think I want it, but when I'm at mile 20 will I really want it? I'm not quite sure. I know I'll hurt, but exactly how broken are we talking? :)

If Drama Were A Color

Just a few days ago, Benny Boy and I were talking with a fabulously wonderful friend of mine, who also happens to be very savvy about colors. I had told Ben that he was a white, because I remembered my friend telling me he was a white, but I didn't remember what a white was. So we called her. And we had a lovely talk about the color code. And low and behold, Ben felt somewhat accurately labeled with his new-found color's description.

I, on the other hand, have never been well-described by the color code. This is not because the color code isn't accurate, but just because I'm a kind of hodge-podge of colors and not just one -- maybe it's an indication that "I'm complicated". But I digress... Anyhow, one of my stronger colors is blue, which is a somewhat emotionally driven color. Despite my emotional personality, however, we also noted that I am not very caught up in drama, which kind of makes me not blue.

Well, I don't like personal drama. But I DO love watching drama. One of my favorite shows to watch this past season was The Housewives of New York City. I loved this show! I love analyzing human interactions and people's motivations and observing how they handle themselves and each other. I don't so much care about their personal lives, but I love taking notes and assessing their people skills. And they provided so much fodder on the show -- fascinating and incredibly intense fodder. Side note -- I do have limits. Jerry Springer and people behaving badly is not drama to me. It's just kinda trashy and I don't like it.

So, clearly I don't put the housewives in the trash category. I think they're great! The thing is, though -- while I love watching these women, I am struck by the huge gulf between myself in real life and the real lives of these women in terms of how we interact with other people. They are so intense! They are so fiery! They are so full of drama! I love to watch this, but I think if I had a few of their interactions within a few months time, I would just be exhausted!

I steer clear of drama as much as possible. If I know someone who is high in drama, I usually think the drama is just... silly. It doesn't make sense to me in real life to behave this way and to act out so loudly. See a problem? Have a conflict? My approach is normally -- resolve, resolve, resolve -- in the nicest way possible. Don't fan the flames. Don't provoke. Don't lash out. I may be very loud when I am happy. I may be rambunctious at parties. And I may be somewhat excitable. But when it comes to confronting people over some conflict of interest or issue, I just don't do what they do! I have no desire to have it out with anybody with the vim and vigor they approach a fight.

The color code might diagnose these ladies with blue, as they react so emotionally. But then, it might be more red, with the passion and competitive nature they exude while they try to best each other in the fray. Drama. I don't know what color it is. Sometimes it's great to watch. But whatever color it is, I think it's one color I can only handle, in real life, in very, very small doses.