Halloween Love

After a failed attempt at making Charlotte an owl costume for Halloween (MOSTLY because knitting is harder than figuring out the rubix cube.) Prudent Baby saved my Halloween life.




And check out this guy:





Happy Halloween and don't eat any candy from strangers that looks like it was tampered with or has needle marks. C'mon, you know you got the speech like a hundred times each Halloween, I just wanted to make sure you didn't forget.

Unless you are really funny drugged up, in that case, turn on the video camera first.

Love youuuuu!

Knitting is Stupid

And I hate its stupid guts.

No, I'm not trying anything new. Nope, not at all. (Hiding knitting daggers behind back.)

Really, I'm just unknotting something. Easy peasy.

Why do you ask?

That Post-Running Look

I was changing into my pajamas last night when I looked in the mirror and thought, dang, I am sooo freakin' hot right now.

Maybe the endorphins were still flowing through my brain but I thought I looked AH-MAZE-ING!

I mean, this hotness might not last another minute so I had to show my husband the smokin' bod.

I hobbled to his office, "BABE! Seriously! Check out how sexy I am!"

He gave me THE look. One of those looks where he didn't have to say much but I knew exactly what he was thinking.

I turned around to walk away and be a tease because I saw someone do that on T.V. once.

And WHACK.

Right into a wall.

And one more thing:

It's my Birthday.

I'm not telling you this so can wish me Happy Birthday, I'm telling you this so you can hear how hard I party and be mad jealous.

I've been rockin' three Salonpas pain relieving patches on my knees all morning.

When I took them off I read the directions: No more than ONE patch per 24 hour period.

My knees are SOOOO drunk right now!

Also, they are ARTHRITIS pain patches.

And I'm not even 30.

Mad jealous?

Denver Rock 'N' Roll

Here's how it went down:

I should of wrote a letter to my knees as well. My quads are pretty happy today. I'm SHOCKINGLY reporting that my quads don't really hurt.

I'm pretty sure it's because of that letter I wrote them.

But my knees are PISSED!

I'm going to color them a picture today. Maybe fold the paper into a heart and spray perfume on it.


The marathon was awesome. For a first Rock 'N' Roll marathon in Denver, I was surprised how well organized it was, how many people came out for it, that the race SOLD OUT and how many volunteers come out to support the race. This is marathon number five for me and maybe one of my favorites. I held a 4:45 pace until mile 18 and hit my wall.

Hard.

Let me tell you, EVERYTHING HURT.

I think it's because I ran just to see Geoff and the kids. I ran for them. Races this long just hit me emotionally sometimes and when I didn't see them at the point I thought I would, I felt deflated. My fuel was gone and just wanted to click my heals and be back in bed cuddling with my husband.

Then he text me he was at mile 20. I ran to them thinking I would stop for a minute and hug the kids (Obviously I didn't care much about time then.) but when I got to that point and Geoff jumped out to hug me, my legs hurt WAY too bad to stop. They hurt while running and hurt even more to walk.

But lets get one thing straight, labor hurts 100 times more.

Maybe 500 times.

So I kept running.

Mile 20-26 sucked like they always do. I mean, guess this is why they consider marathons a huge accomplishment.

So I turned on some Britney and danced a little "Womanizer" and smiled at the people that came out to support the runners.

And let me tell you another thing. I LOVE running in the ghetto. Whether I'm in L.A. or Denver (if you consider any area here ghetto), I just love running in the less wealthy areas. Not many people come out of their mansions to cheer on runners but you can bet everyone is out of their houses in the less wealthy areas cheering and high-fiving all the runners. Their smiles are infectious, their signs hilarious and it just makes me so happy.

Once you hit mile 26, you turned the corner to see the finish line. Sooo many people were out cheering. I gave high fives to every kid along the way and the guy on the intercom was just funny and happy and I loved Denver so much at that point. Usually I'm dying the last .2 miles but the energy was so infectious I picked up my speed and smiled the entire way.

Inaugural Denver Rock 'N' Roll Maraton 2010: FINISHED


Thanks Denver, you ROCK!

Now I'm going to finish my picture- love you knees...

Dear Quadriceps

I'm just going to take a wild guess and say after tomorrow you will have it in for me.

Would you be kinder if I said I only do it because I love you?



I guess we shall see.


26.2 miles, here I come.

Forget it, I'm just writing this. Warning: I talk about periods.

The marathon is this Sunday.

As in a few days away.

As in

A

FEW DAYS

AWAY!

And I'm doing the period dance. After Sawyer, my cycle became a lot heavier and more crampy and then times that by five after pushing out Charlotte. I'm due for it in a few days, like MARATHON DAY and if that is when little miss evil chooses to make her appearance, this marathon is going to SUCK.

So, do a dance with me.

I'm also really pissy.

PMS related? No, couldn't be, right?

I'm just all annoyed with people. People I haven't even met or talked to in my life, close friends, EVERYONE! I just feel like people are sooo disappointing.

And here is the kicker: people that open their mouth way too much I'm REALLY annoyed at.

Are you seeing the irony? Basically I'm mad at anyone like me. I mean, really?

So I'm kinda staying quiet because my intention is not to tear anyone down and DAMN am I good at that.

So, this is me quiet. Anyone else hate me or is it just me?

Because I'm awesome.

Confuse-a-cat.

Because I'm pretty.

I was sanding our stair railing (banister?) and sent my husband this picture with attached message:


"If you think I'm sexy and you want my body, c'mon baby let me know..."






Should I be offended?


Because,

he didn't respond.

Pregnant Vagina

Did you guys notice the new stats button on Blogger?

I mean, I notice things WAY late so this may have been here forever.

For those that read and don't blog (Are there any, really?), most bloggers are ADDICTED to stats.

C'mon, admit it.

We like to see how many people, who clicked on what, blah, blah, blah.

Note to stalkers: I know who you are.

If I had any. Damn.

Anyway, I clicked on this new "Stat" button and saw that the number one way people get to my blog through Google is by searching "Pregnant Vagina?".

Seriously.

Sooo, let me clear the air, that vagina thing can not house a baby, it is merely the trap door. Kind of like the red carpet entrance and a possible fire escape.

Are you catching me?

The floor is open, I know you guys have more questions and like those secret boxes in health class, you don't even have to write your name, just throw out those questions you have always been dying to ask. I'm here for you.

Basically, I'm full of wisdom and less harrier than that health teacher you had.

Love to love to love you, love you,


me.