So yeah, I’m running a half marathon in April.

Yes.  I have looked in a mirror.  I know.

Eleven weeks to train.  Should have started sooner, but I’m a sucker for procrastination.  This isn’t new.

Thing is I want to do this.  It seemed like a great idea back in October.  As I’ve entered middle age new items have wiggled their way onto my bucket list.  If you had asked me five years ago if I would ever run for hours–on purpose–the answer would have been a resounding NO.  And yet, here I am preparing for a half marathon.  Believe me.  I’m pretty shocked myself.

Last week I was on the treadmill a-huffin and a-puffin begging the minutes to move more quickly when the tears started welling up in my eyes.  I wasn’t going to do it.  There is no way I could complete this thing.  I didn’t have enough time to train.  I am too out of shape.  I waited too long to begin.  The race people would be all packed up and gone by the time I even limped into the neighborhood of the finish line.  My friends would have gotten tired of waiting figuring I quit and gone home thinking they’d find me there.  Everyone–and even worse I–would know I was a big fat loser.

Thank god the treadmill TVs block my reflection in the mirror.  The self-hating was kept moderately in check.

The next morning–and I’m not really sure if I was looking for an excuse to quit or a making desperate last grab at making myself proud–I sent a Facebook message to my friend Michael asking if this was even possible.  Michael started doing triathlons five years ago.  I knew him before.  He’s changed his life.  Now he’s so into it he’s coaching other athletes.  DO NOT THINK FOR ONE MOMENT I AM CALLING MYSELF AN ATHLETE (yet).  But I knew that Michael would know if I could do it.

His answer–without hesitation–was YES.

And that was all I needed–or at least I thought so until we started chatting some more.*

See I just needed someone who knew what kind of training it would take to tell me I could do it.  I have given birth twice–stick with me here.  The first time I was pregnant I read those stupid books about giving birth and I freaked out.  What had I done getting pregnant?!  I didn’t want to go through delivery!  The baby was going to have to figure another way out because I was NOT going through what that book described!  By show time though I got through it.  And you know how?  That silly old Dr. Sears told me I could and with his faith I convinced myself that I could put up with anything for twelve hours if it meant getting to meet my baby at the end.  And now I have Michael telling me that I can do it.  In eleven weeks I can get myself ready to complete a half marathon.  So you know what I’m telling myself?

I can do anything for eleven weeks if it means that I will cross that finish line.

*Next up, we’ll examine why having lived with an addicted sibling is getting me through this.  Kids I have lots of time running to entertain myself with these thoughts.  I apologize now for sharing them with you.

What a night of correspondence!

First, there was this comment from the CEO of this sex toy company that demanded my attention. Of course, I had to reply. It would have been rude not to.

I do wish she had read more carefully. I wasn’t dissing the toy. I was merely shocked by the price, which I’ve subsequently discovered is in line with other toys of its caliber. I offered to try out some of their other fine products and review them. Who knows if they’ll take me up on my offer. I will say the Jollie is far more fun that it first appears.

Then it was on to organizing a little get together at my house. No RSVPs so far, but I might vacuum if they take me up on the invite.

Shakey walked through the room as I was composing the invitation. I thought I should give him the head’s up that I was inviting all of the viable presidential candidates to the house. You know, since he lives there and all. I got the typical response: head shake.

It stinks that I can’t surprise him anymore.

Tonight the Southern Living at Home invitations go out. They have a great deal for hostesses on their fireplace screen this month. I’m such a sucker. Sorry to any of you who get the invitations. I swear you don’t have to buy anything!! Just come over. I’ll have drinks!

So that’s what’s been on my writing desk. Can you imagine if I had had to do this all with quill and ink? Yet another reason to be glad I wasn’t born in the 1700’s.

What do Gail and toothpaste have in common? Not much that I know of though I’m willing to bet that Gail uses it regularly. She’s clean that way. But I need to talk about both of these things today.

First Gail.

A big thanks to everyone who has said hi. I’m sorry if I confused anyone. Gail doesn’t have a blog (yet), but I’m trying to get her to start one. It would be filled with LOTS of juicy gossip I promise you. She just sent me some good stuff about my highschool friemesis. Heh.

Requests were made for a good Gail story. Unfortunately I don’t have specific story to tell, but rather an effect to report. First you must understand that Mamma’s Mamma is a bit of a goodie-goodie. She never smoked cigarettes, she never did drugs–except that one time she says my aunt made “marijuana cookies” and “you know how I just can’t resist cookies. But I don’t see what all the hype is. I just felt sleepy.” Yep. That’s my mom. She does enjoy her one martini a day, but she’s not a big drinker either.

Unless she’s out with Gail.

Mom, Gail and their two friends have labeled themselves the Fab Four. They get together once a month or so for a girl’s night out (I’m sure this was Gail’s idea). Now you see I have Gail to thank for loosening my Mamma up.

I called down to say hi during their annual girl’s weekend and what did I find? My mamma giggling her ass off. Apparently the girls had been drinking for quite some time and Gail had just whipped out the cigars (and Gail if it wasn’t you–don’t burst my bubble now). My mamma (remember goodie-goodie girl?) started smoking a CIGAR!

So how can I not love a woman who can get the goodie-goodie girl to be bad? Ah, a true mentor!

As for the toothpaste…

There are many uses for toothpaste. There’s, well, cleaning your teeth. And yet, there is so much more. According to the folks over at ThriftyFun.com you can use it for fixing DVDs, cleaning your jewelry and clearing up acne. It also works well as spackle and for hanging posters.

There is one thing though I’m pretty sure toothpaste should not be used near, and that my friends is your clitoris. Yep, I said it.

I’m not sure, poor Google searcher, how the terms “clitoris and toothpaste” led you to me, but if you want my opinion on the matter here it is.

Don’t come near my nethers with toothpaste!

I understand that you may be looking for a cheap way to accomplish this, but please listen to Gloria Brame (and she’s a sex therapist, you know) “I HATED IT- burn, burn, burn.”

That is all I have to say about that.

I can’t believe prom is already just a memory.

Duuuuuuuuude! We had a killer time last night. You should have been there.

We had a well-stocked fridge.

The wine coolers! The Asti!! AND Michelobe Lite. The guys really got the good stuff for us.

We SO know how to party.

Don’t we just make the cutest couple? I just know we’re going to be together forEVAH. (try it was over six weeks later)

So tomorrow is the big night! I’m so excited I’m ready to pee my pants. Wonder Mom and Stinkfoot have already promised me a dance.

I was going to get a pedicure. I was going to get my hair done. BUT THIS IS A BLOG PROM! No primping necessary!!! I’d be lying of course if I said I hadn’t done anything to prepare. For you my darling dates, I’ve been searching high and low for photos…photos I tell ya.

First a bit about my senior high school prom eve. Frankly, the details are a bit hazy. I do remember this. The dress was hung up on the back of the door just so it would “be ready.” Now what it accomplished while it was hanging there, I have no clue.

I didn’t visit the tanning bed as some of my sister Floridians decided to do. I was more of an “au naturel” kind of girl–though you won’t believe that when you see the pictures tomorrow.

Anyway, to provide you with a bit of context, I thought I’d treat you to some other photographic evidence of my stint in high school.

First I need to admit that, yes, I was the senior class president. In my defense…crap I have no defense. Let’s just say that I’ve learned my lesson since and I try my best to resist leadership positions at all costs. Who needs the headache? I already have three children.

So here I am on a “normal” high school day.

Note my early tendency to foresake primping for extra sleep. Hair in a ponytail and a t-shirt. Yep, that was me. Those metallic flats?! I saw some just like those at DSW this week. I guess we’re on a 19 year fashion cycle.

There were other dances, of course, before my senior prom.

There was prom my freshman year:

Check out that hoop skirt!! I could have fit another date under there. I have to say though it was very cool. Lots of space to kick around. The date was by far the funniest and smartest of all my dance dates to follow. At the time, I wasn’t smart enough to realize how much I should have prized those qualities. [shaking head with memories of very cute, very stupid boys]

Sophomore year I had a boyfriend who was my year, so no prom for me. We did attend a semi-formal however.

Wasn’t that cool the way I got my eyeshadow to match my dress?

I attended the prom that year with my best friend who was a senior. Oh how I LURVED him my freshman year. I kept telling him he had to take someone he could get busy with, but for some reason he insisted I was to be the date. We had an totally awesome time fer shure.

No that’s not your screen. My face is a different color than the rest of my body. Where was my mother when I was doing that? For christ sakes woman! How could you let me go out of the house with THAT much powder on my face?! Oh and please note the awesome red sunglasses!

He got so wasted that night he decided I was THE one he was going to get busy with. The great friend that I am I laughed in his face, told him he was drunk and suggested he pass out on the other side of the bed. He didn’t remember a bit of it the next morning. THANK GOODNESS!

So that’s it. I’m all ready for our big night tomorrow. Please don’t forget to visit with the other guests. I know they are all scurrying like mad to get their photos scanned.

Happend so fast. Summer lovin’. Someone was having a blast.

Actually a number of someones.

Something about the pre-Fourth of July weekend must have been damn sexy in the late 60’s/early 70’s, because, as I’ve discovered cruising the blogosphere this week, there are a ton of last week of March babies running around.

For instance, there’s my British friend, a Pissed-Off Housewife and then Kristin’s husband. Speaking of husbands, Deb gets to celebrate hers with a husband who has culinary skills!

And there’s been some recent additions to this prestigious club as well. Check out the link. The sextuplets are ADORABLE!! And one of the kiddos over at the Circus is celebrating as well this week.

All fabulous people of course. You know how I know? Cause I’m one of them!

Thirty-six years ago tonight I was all warm and cozy, ignorant of the cold cruel world. Some time during the next 24 hours the kid–who I like to say was conceived in the back of a Trans-Am most likely to Led Zepplin–was brought into this world. Lucky for me there was an incredible women waiting for just such a baby to be born and ten short days later I was hers.
She’s been stuck with me ever since. Seriously, you should feel sorry for my mom.

Okay, enough pitiful attempts to garner some birthday wishes…we have some real love to talk about.

First, I still haven’t been asked to the prom, BUT I do have a date to BlogHer. I am going, and I’m happy to report that the southern darling Canape (pronounced in her language as can-I-pee?) has asked me and I have gladly accepted.

Are you so jealous or what?

I got the cutest girl at the event to invite ME. Can you believe it?! Yeah, me either. I’m so excited I can barely stand it, but more on BlogHer and my fabulous date later.

What I’m jazzed about at this particular moment is that we are just hours away from our first annual blog prom weekend!

Over the next three days the folks on the guest list to the right will be blogging about their prom experience, or lack of prom experience, or about proms in general (hey it’s the blogosphere–and I’m not that into rules). So join us if you’d like! And don’t worry about getting a date. You’d just dump them as soon as you got there so you could hang out with us anyway.

Tell me you’re coming and I’ll add you to the guest list. And Leah–there was no link to your blog in my comments. Email me the address and I’ll add you.

Oh, and there may be a prize, but don’t tell anyone.

Now dig out those pictures. Make new ones. Tell us about prom. And get around to meet all of the guests. Mingle dammit! That’s an order!

You wouldn’t want to disappoint a girl on her birthday. Would you?!

Just a few days to go before the first annual Blog Prom.

Dust off the old pictures and get them scanned or dress up in your finest and snap away. And I’m warning you now, my prom was in 1988. Get ready for some hair!

This Saturday we’re dancing! The guest list is coming soon. If you’d like to be included, let me know and I’ll add you.

Here are the details:

On Friday, March 30th write a post about getting ready for the big night. Post any pre-prom pictures. Did you go to the tanning bed the day before? Did you have your hair done or did you do it yourself? How did you ask your date? How did your date ask you?

On Saturday, March 31 tell us about the night. And we want pictures!!! We want to see your terrific taffeta or lovely lace. Did you sport the powder blue tux or was it tails? Did you hoof to the dance or was their a fancy limo? What was the theme? Were you the queen/king?

On Sunday, April 1 we want to hear all about the after-party. Did you stay up all night? Where did you go? Again, pictures.

I wanna put on my, my, my, my, my boogie shoes and boogie with you.

So I’ve been thinking…um…well…you see there’s this dance…and…um…well…

Wanna go with me?

I’m proposing we have a blog prom. I have no idea if someone else is already hosting one, but why not go to two? I mean you’ll have the dress/tuxedo and all.

So here’s what I’m thinking. Let’s do it the last weekend in March. I know it’s a little early for the “traditional” prom season, but hey that’s what’s great about not being in high school anymore. We can have prom whenever we want to.

So start digging through your photo albums and pull out those dusty old pictures, get them scanned. We’re having ourselves a prom!

And this isn’t going to be a one night affair. We want to see you getting ready, we want to see your ride, the flowers, your date, the after-party…the whole shebang. Didn’t go to prom? Tell us about what you did instead or get dressed up and take some pictures of yourself to share.

On Friday, March 30th write a post about getting ready for the big night. Post any pre-prom pictures. Did you go to the tanning bed the day before? Did you have your hair done or did you do it yourself? How did you ask your date? How did your date ask you?

On Saturday, March 31 tell us about the night. And we want pictures!!! We want to see your terrific taffeta or lovely lace. Did you sport the powder blue tux or was it tails? Did you hoof to the dance or was their a fancy limo? What was the theme? Were you the queen/king?

On Sunday, April 1 we want to hear all about the after-party. Did you stay up all night? Where did you go? Again, pictures.

Let me know if you want to go and I’ll start a guest list. If anyone knows how to make a button so you can tell people about it and post it on your blog, I’d be happy to include it. I’m just not that talented–yet.

I’ll also start thinking about categories for a prize or two. I went to the prom in the late 80’s, so I can promise LOTS of hair. Any other ideas to make the prom better? Let me know. You can be on the prom committee too.

So that’s it. That’s my idea. I hope you wanna go with me. I think we’ll have fun…my dad’s going to let me borrow his car.

Day 26
Mood: Rested and Ready