The training begins

I'm signed up for the North Shore Inline Marathon. Yes, 26.2 miles. It's the biggest inline marathon in the U.S. with 4,000 skaters along the shore of Lake Superior from Two Harbors to Duluth, Minnesota.


My goals are:

1. Don't fall.

2. Finish faster than my time in the St. Paul marathon last year.

Why everyone should hate Rupert Murdoch

Sleeping patterns

11 p.m. I am tired, I should go to bed.

Midnight: Ok, really going to bed now.

12:30 a.m.: Oh my god, I can't breathe. I have now sneezed 400 times in a row, snot is dripping down my face and my throat is closing up. I am going into anaphalytic shock for sure. I wonder how long it will take for someone to find me dead.

1 a.m. Moving to the couch where there is less cat hair, more circulation. Get clean sheet, breathe through wet washcloth on face which is more succesful than the two Benadryl I have now taken.

5:45 a.m. WHY AM I AWAKE? There's a phone alarm going off. Nope, not my phone. It sounds like it's in this room though. What's going on? Why has it been going off for five minutes?

5:55 a.m. It's going off again. What's happening and why can't I think clearly? Look for old phone on the off chance it hasn't lost battery in a month without being used or turned on and somehow its alarm is going off. Pull all couch cushions off looking for mystery phone. Put ear against wall to see if it's my neighbors. Look in drawers of entertainment center. Obviously still heavily under the influence of Benadryl. Suddenly feel like I am in an Edgar Allen Poe story.

6 a.m. What is that sound? Crap, the power just went out despite the fact there is no lightning, thunder, rain, wind, tornados. I just read an article about squirrels getting caught in the wires and killing power. God, I hate squirrels. This means my fans are off. It's like 90 degrees already, and I have no air conditioning. I am just going to get up and go to work.

6:02 a.m. Oh my god. What's that sound? It's louder than a car alarm. Sounds like a security breach of some kind. Pretty sure no one is breaking into that shady bar at this hour.

6:03 a.m. Seriously consider that loud alarm is probably a carbon monoxide alarm. Remember that I have my own carbon monoxide detector but suddenly can't remember if I have put batteries in it since I moved 1.5 years ago. Consider going out into hallway to see if anyone else in my building seems concerned. Decide too tired/drugged to move. Would rather just die peacefully from CO poisoning.

6:04 Loud car alarm and phone alarm of unknown origin going off at same time.

6:07 a.m. Phone alarm

6:09 a.m. Car alarm

6:13 a.m. Both alarms

6:18 a.m. Still both alarms. Why does God hate me?

7:45 a.m. My own phone alarm, electricity back, fans going.

8:40 a.m. Arrive at work. Speech still slightly slurred from Benadryl.

Thin walls

The walls in this hotel are very thin and therefore I now know everything about the girl's life who is in the room next to me. If I were to meet her in person, I would promptly punch her in the face.

1. She hates her parents. She has "every right" to come visit her birthplace and not see them. Fuck, she could have been in London right now. She will "never ever ever come back here again" unless she stays in a hotel. This hotel by the way is the most beautiful hotel she has "EVER" stayed in "EVER."

2. She tried to commit suicide and was in a hospital bed and her parents didn't even bother to come see her even though she should have been dead. I mean, "they had a chance to save their daughter's life!"

3. Everyone talks about how insane her family is. No one can stand her mother.

4. She's 42. But talks like she's 13. Seriously. I mean, seriously! Like, whatever.

5. She steals hotel robes. She requests a second robe be brought up for a friend and then she steals one and "they never know!"

O'Hare Observations

I broke my cardinal rule for living in using alliteration in the title of this blog. At least it makes sense, unlike the new Manhattan Marketplace in my hometown. Marketplace implies charming or a market like atmosphere where people browse fresh veggies while sipping coffee on a warm Saturday morning. Either that or a Mexican market where you are aggressively bartering for cheap crap that you will of course immediately throw in the garage sale box upon return to the U.S. But this "marketplace" includes box stores (Best Buy) and... well, that's it right now. Furthering proving my point that the title of the shopping center was chosen soley for the cutesy coincidence of "look, they both start with M!"

My bag got searched this morning b/c they saw "wires and a time device" or from a more layperson's mind, a computer cord and watch. I oh so desperately wanted to make a bomb joke especially after the top-notch security man couldn't find my "time-keeping device" and concluded "well, you can go. You don't look like trouble." National security at its finest. Note to terrorists: Young, short women dressed professionally and carrying bright blue suitcases. The key to your next plot.

None of the above writing was even about O'Hare. That's what alliteration does to a person.

Back at the airport

This should just be a airport blog. The only time I can write I am in the airport waiting and waiting.

Right now there are about 20 eighth graders experimenting with their cell phone rings. Their chaperone, a large older man, is loudly telling this story about a plane being late. It's not an interesting story at all. A plane? Delayed? At O'Hare? What a ridiculous fantasy. He also just referred to the word "fuck" as the "F flipper."

Now they are surrounding me and taking pictures of each other but they do have to occasionally pause to check their text messages which keep beeping every five seconds.

If they are next to me on the plane, I am jumping out the window. I'll take my chances.

I *heart* New York

Highlights from my weekend in NYC where I am having a hard time not living.

1. The best sushi I've ever had topping my previous best in Portland. Sushi Haru on the Upper East Side. Salmon that melts in your mouth. Yum.

2. Trying on dresses on the UES where the ladies compliment you and make you feel gorgeous only to tell them you can't afford their $300 sundresses and have them suddenly turn into snobby bitches.

3. Staying out til 5 a.m. and seeing the sun rise while eating grilled cheese in a Bronx diner.

4. Having a Bronx 8th grader ask if I was M.'s sister because all white people look alike.

5. Tasti D Light chocolate pudding frozen yogurt with rainbow sprinkles.

6. Trying to decide if I am in the mood for Korean, Thai, Greek, Mexican, Italian or diner food... or if I want to walk to the next block.

Loooooove it.

This is not your personal office

I am sitting at the airport waiting to go to New York to see M., and there is an asshole across from me in the seating area on his phone headset. He is balancing his laptop on one knee and a notebook on the other. He is talking LOUDLY and in a tool-like manner saying things like "The tasks, Chuck, are fundamentally the same..." or "Chuck, I'll arrange a meeting with the principles in this deal." If that was annoying enough, he's excessively gesticulating.

I want to punch him in the face. This is not his personal office and everytime he motions with his chubby hands, it makes me want to reach out and slap them. The guy next to me just saw me staring this guy down, chuckled and signed really loudly.

Also, he's wearing New Balance tennis shoes, oatmeal colored jeans and a blue patterned shirt. Oddly though, his fingernails are clean and manicured and his beard is really well groomed.

"You bet, Chuck. You bet."