I’m not giving up on WW! Nor am I giving up on girl scout cookies. This little brownie came in to our office standing about as high as my rib cage. I nearly fell out of my chair just to rush over and tell her about the time in 1976 when a neighborhood dog chased me 1/2 a block when I was selling cookies door to door.
These days kids are escorted to their parents’ offices with an entourage of body guards. Back in the day, our folks sent us out into suburbia armed with nothing but a cookie order form, a ball point pen and the instructions: Come home before dark!
Don’t worry, I didn’t bother the brownie with those details. I did however hold her hostage while I described in detail how, in 1979 my troop started a fire in the rain to make pancakes from scratch one morning while the Inferior Boy Scouts one campsite over hitched a ride with their “Leaders” to pick up McMuffins for breakfast.
She was so polite when I couldn’t stop myself from lamenting: These used to be called Do-Si-Does! Finally, I took hold of that colorful order form and I just keep checking boxes. Box after box. Yes, yes, yes.
In the end, she recited The Pledge with me. Let’s say it together now:
On my honor, I will try:
To serve God and my country,
To help people at all times
And to live by the Girl Scout Law
Part of the Girl Scout Law probably involves showing up at work on time . . . damn. Stay tuned for a future post when we explore: Brownie Ruth - 32 years later - did she live up to the Girl Scout Promise?
. . . as seen from my walk yesterday morning. Wow! The awesome morning light on the flowers around here drives me to happiness. These purple creatures caused me to stop. Next time, I’ll snap one of my favorite blossoming bush. Stay tuned.
Thanks to YOUR generous donations, I got to take a fantastic hat and t-shirt home from practice the other day. It’s the best hat I’ve ever had. Perfect for keeping the rising sun out of my eyes.
Another highlight of practice last Sunday was getting to train with our guest coach who specializes in walking: speed walking, power walking and some other kind of walking, I forget. Did you know that walking has been an Olympic sport for 100 years? Did you know that the slowest speed walkers go 9 miles per hour? Did you know that I love walking?
Accomplished to date:
8 work outs - 21 miles.
Stay tuned as these numbers grow. Here’s to a cure in our lifetime!
Life is good. Life is very good. Today I received an e-mail that started with these words, “Thank you for shopping with TicketsNow. We have secured your “The Police” tickets.”
Yeah, I did it. I spent an outrageous sum of money for concert tickets. And I’m so very thrilled!
Just the other day, when I originally heard a blip on the radio that The Police would be coming to L.A. this spring, my interest level was about a 7 on a scale of 1 to 10. 10 being the highest. A few seconds later, when I heard that my beloved Elvis Costello was the opening act, my interest level rose to a 9. Elvis? Opening for The Police? Too good to be true!
So good that after a full day of work and happy hour w/ coworkers, I still remembered to bring it up to Andy. We surmised that it’d probably be at one of those gargantuan humungaloid places and that the tickets would (a) sell out immediately and (b) cost $6,498 + your left eye and six pints of blood.
Out of curiosity, I googled today to find out just where said show is scheduled to take place and exactly how many months’ salary the tickets are going for. When I saw that the venue is none other than the Hollywood Bowl, I IMMEDIATELY whipped out my credit card!
Last night, before I had a chance to change into my pjs or put some food on a plate that might resemble dinner, I got a text from my big brother. Which was unusual.
There are days when I wonder how we could go months without speaking or writing, especially now that we’re both hooked up with iPhones. Making contact could not be simpler. And yet it doesn’t happen all that more frequently than back when our mode of communcation was limited to land line telephones. I don’t have hard feelings about it really. Each minute of our lives is packed so densely with tasks and stimulation and responsibilities. But that’s the topic of another post.
I wore cropped pants because I knew they’d need to see my ankles and feet.
Have you ever been fitted for running shoes? This was my second time, and I still can’t get over the oddity of it.
First I sat down, and the Handsome Young Shoeologist sat down next to me. We talked. He asked about my current training routine. And he listened. We talked about the milelage. About how I’m a walker. About the upcoming marathon in June.
I showed him my beat up Asics - the pair I had trained in last year. He held each one in his hand and examined it without (ick, dirty old shoe) apprehension. He noted where the tread was most worn, ” . . . right down the middle, good.” I pointed out how the fabric and padding on the inside back heel of each shoe had completely given way. He remarked that Read the rest of this entry »
When I was about 10 years old, my best friend “B” who lived kitty-corner across the street and I took command of a box of brownie mix. We decided it would be a great thing to stir up the batter and eat it all raw: the whole batch. Just the two of us. No sharing with any of her sisters.
It was a good idea in theory. Oh we finished it. I don’t remember being in pain, per se. But let’s just say, we never got the urge to do that again.
Yeah. That’s what happened the other day at work when I settled down in my still-new office with the morning light streaming in. Faced with the minor indecision of The iPod Setting, I made a new choice. I dialed straight to Artists>Led Zeppelin. I thought, I’m going to go crazy at this job if I don’t give myself some comfort. What’s more comforting than a favorite band?
Five hours later, Zeppelin tunes still rolling along, I looked down and realized I had 53 more tracks to go. It felt like back when B and I would get Italian Ices from the ice cream man. The unspoken contest was to scrape off the colored sweetness as slowly as possible. We’d sit with those little wooden paddle spoons and cardboard cups on the concrete front step to my house at twighlight distracting each other with analysis of General Hospital plot lines while the fire flies made their first glows of the night. Eventually, one of us would have an empty cup and the other, the winner, would gloat and eat even more slowly. Oh it’s so good. Too bad you’re finished with yours.
So there I was the other day, 2pm and 53 tracks to go: Oh it’s so good.
In theory. I was still working at 8pm when I made my way up to track 107. A full - long - work day with nothing but constant Led Zeppelin. Continuous Plant. Non-stop Page. So good — if it weren’t for the constant pressure of a worse than usual work day drilling along simultaneously.
That’s when I realized I might have gone and over done it.
I think I can recover . . . it just may take a few weeks. Dammit.
So many people have contacted me with donations towards my fundraising goal. The average donation has been $171! Hard to believe, but true. My friends & family are that blessed & generous; and I am grateful.
By Monday, I had raised 40% of my total goal, so I did what it seems to me all good fundraisers should do, I RAISED THE GOAL! Yes! $4000. It’ll happen.
Last week, I encountered the blog of a woman who does the 3 day-60 mile walk to raise money towards breast cancer research and screening. This is her 2nd year. Her first time around, she raised $29,000! Amazing. So there’s a big part of me that wonders if my $4000 goal is too tiny.
If you search hard enough on this blog, you’ll find a couple of comments by a sweet woman in Colorado who (although she’s not met me in person) insisted that my old thumbprint “looked nothing like” me.
To her I say, Wm, I swear, there was a day when I looked like this:
It was a good day.
But you’re right, that day passed years ago. So, I’m finally taking the time to update my pics.
You’ll see a picture from last fall on the About page, and my thumbprint is updated also.
Wm, you’ll have to fly yourself to L.A. and have BBQ with me, NG & Faboo before you’ll get another chance at veto power on my pics.
We were a household divided last night. Andy wanted desperately to see the perfect football season. I kept trying to tell him that if the Giants win, the perfect season will be something we have to look forward to. Like a comet or a balanced national budget.
Of course, if true sports fans were to have heard us talking about the game, it would have sounded a bit like first graders discussing the presidential election. Andy and I know that little about sports. I had to keep repeating out loud, lest I forget, “White jerseys, Read the rest of this entry »
