Race Report: Summer Open Sprint - Longmont, CO

• 0.5 mi Swim
• 12.6 mi Bike
• 5k Run

And now, ladies and gentleman, for the highly anticipated race report! I know it's late but I had to wait until my fingers stopped being sore. Yes, my entire body ached afterwards. No, I didn't crash or anything, I just didn't do the training. But I finished and not last (I know that shouldn't matter to me... but it does).

Let's start the night before the race.

So much gear. So little time!

Friday, May 16th, 2014.

I believe mom was the first one of all of us to go to bed. Kylie was out with her Fiance, Alex, and went to bed at some ungodly hour. I went to bed about 3 hours later than I planned, at 10pm after running some last minute errands... like buying new shoes (which I wore in the race... like a dummy), buying a bike computer and installing it, laying out my gear and triple checking my list, and pounding some of Olive Garden's Fettuccine Alfredo... and a few bites of salad.



 Saturday, May 17th, 2014. Race Day.

We (me, mom, and eventually Kylie) woke up at 5:30am. It was a glorious, dark, cold morning. I was pretty quiet. If you've read any of my other stuff on here, you might get the idea that I was NOT ready for this race while at the same time putting an inordinate amount of pressure on myself to complete it. Crazy? A bit. But that's me. Rather than our usually workout pump-up music of the Dixie Chicks we tortured mom with a little Kanye and Eminem.

We arrived a tad early. When I'm nervous I get arrive early. Them's the breaks, I'm afraid. Kylie may not have been happy with me, Alex (her fiance) even less so. Haha. We checked in, got body marked (the volunteer did mine wrong--one of the down sides to being the first ones done...), set up our transition areas, used the port-a-potties and after berating me for getting us there so early, Kylie decided we needed to get our wetsuits on, Stat. So we did. Then she said we needed to head down to the water. So we did. We may or may not have been the first ones down there. I can't recall... Anyway, it was freezing. Did I mention that? The announcer said that at last check the water was a balmy 49 degrees. Yikes. Luckily we had prepared for this... kind of. We had gone to a friends lake twice and floated around in our wetsuits screaming about how cold it was... That is the type of "preparing" we did for this race.

Slowly wading into the water, we started "warming up" with more and more of the other racers. One chick strolled by sans wetsuit and hopped right in the water in just booty shorts and a sports bra. I believe seeing her marks the first time that day that I peed in my pants. TMI? Then you're in the wrong place, I'm afraid. It is possible that it will only get worse. But don't worry, my wetsuit was a little too big for me and there was plenty of water flow. Which also means, unfortunately, that I was only warm for a few seconds.

We were in the final heat for the staggered swim starts as mom had registered us both as "first timers". This was a loose interpretation of the truth that Kylie and I both decided we could live with and we went with it. Also in our heat were the Athenas (women 150 lbs plus) so it was a good group and where I would've been anyway.

THE SWIM

I know it shouldn't matter, but there WERE people still swimming.

Um... I've read a LOT about open water swimming. I've thought A LOT about this. I've gone the distance and then some in a pool. And I've proven to myself that I float with a wetsuit on. When reality strikes... I'm sure all of those things helped. BUT. I know my threshold for quitting as I did just that last August (with a broken ankle). This was a close call. So I suppose all of those things ultimately were the difference between quitting and not. No. That's a lie. The ultimate difference between quitting and going on was K.Y.L.I.E. I know she wanted to throttle me several times because I was zoning out bad, but she kept my head on straight when I wanted to panic. She told me to count to 5 when I started hyperventilating. And she just kept moving ahead of me when I wanted to stop for a few minutes which the competitive side of me just wouldn't have. Lastly, she stayed with me. The whole time. It is true that I did teach Kylie the very basic basics of freestyle going into this and that I was her only coach for efficient swimming in this race. But out there we were just sisters.

Ok, that's enough of that. She has my thanks. Moving on.

That I was on my feet at all is a small miracle.

THE BIKE

We waddled into Transition 1 (T1) to get ready for the bike. It's important to mention here that Kylie had had a dream about the triathlon the night before (of course). It involved a killer whale being set loose in the reservoir and me ditching her after she got me through the swim because I had decided that I could probably win the whole thing if I left her behind. So the first part had come true (no, not the part about the Orca). She had gotten me through the swim. Now I was supposed to leave her in the dust on the bike apparently.

So I did. Ok, not really.

I was going to lie and say this was when we got back from the bike and that's why all the other bike racks are empty... It's not. Everyone else was already out on the bike...

We left transition on our bikes and about 1 mile into the 12 mile ride I turned to check on her and she was no where to be seen! There were other people behind me but no sign of the green, granny bike she was riding! I was horrified. She didn't have any gear to fix a flat - she didn't have any gear bags on that bike so I was carrying for both of us. I slowed from about 16 mph to 8 and let those people pass me but still couldn't see her. I started to worry that something might have happened and she may have had to drop out. 

Again, try to ignore all the bikes already back...

I kept moving ahead slowly trying to let her catch me. I got to the turnaround and lost something from my bike. So I unclipped and got off to figure out if I had lost something important. It wasn't, but one of the motorcycle cops came up to check if everything was ok. I asked if he had seen Kylie. He hadn't. Crap. I turned around and started up a monster hill and halfway up saw Kylie, intact! I waved furiously and... she kept looking straight ahead. Uh-oh. She's pissed. I yelled "I've been looking everywhere for you!" She yelled back "Yeah RIGHT!" Yep. She's mad. 

I stayed slow down hills and went at about 50% and she still didn't catch me until the end (I found out later that she dropped her chain at the turnaround. As we neared the end of the bike I could hear her ringing the bell on her bike repeatedly. I was laughing pretty hard. I had survived the bike! This was where my race ended last year. The bike is my favorite/weakest leg. I was now officially dreading...

THE RUN

Kylie and I made up. AFTER I promised that I truly didn't ditch her on purpose thinking I could win the whole thing. She told me she'd spent most of the race swearing under her breath after I told her I had spent most of the race praying to not crash. Hahaha. 

We talked a lot on the run/walk. It was nice. There was a 57 year old man that we just COULDN'T catch! I was wearing my new shoes. So dumb. We did a lot of walking because I couldn't feel my feet. Woof. We had a fight. It was a nice time. We would walk a bit and jog a bit. And when we could hear the finish line we started running. They were finishing up the award ceremony. We had a nice crowd cheering for us as we came through the finish chute. I shoved Kylie, she shoved me back and then we made eye contact and took off sprinting to the finish line. It was great. Because I won. Hahaha. Our official time was tied at 2:25:27 and we'll take it. (Believe it or not, that shaved an hour and a half off of Kylie's time in Aspen!)

Yes, I realize this is more the length of an Ironman Race report, but I don't care. It's my first completed race and means more to my than I can express in words. I can't believe we did it more or less successfully without preparing for it and I know that that is thanks, in huge part, to Kylie. 

This race started as a gift from our parents on Christmas morning and ended up being a gift from Kylie too. I know I worked hard and have to be proud of myself too but I just felt so grateful afterwards. I still do, obviously. It was a great day and I can't wait for the next one! Who's with me?!

RINNY

Runner's Roost. Thank you. Thank you for my running shoes that motivate me to go on painful run/walks, thank you for my elastic shoe laces that help me not look dumb in transition during races, and thank you for my future purchase of Newtons and a race watch. But most importantly thanks for last night.

Last night Runner's Roost and TriRock Triathlon (which I'm doing in two months, yay) hosted a Q&A with Tim "HotPants" O'Donnell (5th place finisher at Kona in 2013 and best American Pro in the field) and Mirinda "Rinny" Carfrae (2 time and reigning champion at Kona)! Oh and Bob Babbitt. ;)

Great interview. Very fun and informative. Ok, and yes, Tim's hot.

It was awesome.

I may or may not have been in the front row like a nerd...

But it was awesome and I learned so much and got some much needed inspiration.

Best moment? Probably when Mirinda (she hasn't asked me to call her Rinny. Yet.) said something to the effect of "not being Macca" - saying she's gonna win everything as she has a little more respect for her competitors than that.

So this happened. We could totally be related... distantly.

Made my night.

After getting my picture with her... maybe I jumped at her as soon as they were finished, maybe not, I can't remember exactly... we chatted about where she was from, I was all, "my sister married an Aussie, they live in Brisbane (where Mirinda is originally from), well Maloolaba." And she was all, you dumb American, that's way down from Brizzy. Ok, not really, she just laughed and said "that's down on the sunny coast!" I laughed and said they were probably just simplifying for me and just saying Australia probably would've sufficed. Smooth recovery, hey? See, I speak Aussie.

Training Log: Swim

Me in the middle with the arm meat.

Hey all. So this is my first training log. I think I'm just gonna talk about the workout and go from there.

I did a 800 yd swim or about 1/2 mi. I decided I should make sure I can swim a little farther than I am supposed to swim this Saturday. It took me 30 minutes. I'm not upset about this. Yay!

It was confusing and hard. I have the hardest time tracking how far I've gone! On the way to the rec center I thought very hard about how many lengths that would be. I'm still hesitant to say what I came up with because I might have been wrong. I suppose it's nearly time to invest in a fancy watch that counts all that stuff for me. Woof.

I arrived just as a water aerobics class was ending and waited for the lifeguard to set up the lane ropes. There were a few other swimmer swimmers waiting with me. They were less patient and started swimming right at these poor chatting ladies (ok, in fairness, I was thinking 'a little more walkey, a little less talkey ladies!'). That cleared them out pretty fast.

Kylie swimming uphill.

I heard on a podcast this week that kicking isn't that important for triathletes in the swim (Yay!) which I must have known subconsciously as I don't really kick. I have noticed, however, that not kicking has lead to my legs dragging lower in the water and slowing me down. So I decided to try a few laps "swimming downhill". When I actually did it my legs went up. Like MAGIC! Now to figure out how to get my head to the surface for air...

So I like that. Will use that. Probably not on Saturday when it's FREEZING though. I'll probably be "swimming uphill" with my precious face out of the water completely. Like a moron.

Next swim: One last open water swim with Kylie on Friday.

Next workout: I Don't know! This week is packed with non-workout tri stuff. Ironic.Tonight is my first tri-club meeting and tomorrow I get to meet Mirinda Carfrae and Tim O'donnell! Priorities.Might try to get in a jog at lunch tomorrow.

Mirinda Carfrae = 5 feet 3 inches of bad assery.

Go TRIbal

Ok. Below is an article I wrote for www.gotribalnow.com - it's a great website. Check it out. They are also doing a profile on me in their newsletter. I'm gonna be famous-ish. The facts are these: I'm NOT going to be famous but the profile wants to link to my blog... Yeah. So. Because I'm too cheap to pay for a website and I already had this sucker up and kind of running, I have decided this will also be my Triathlon blog. Read if you wish. It will be riveting and moving and... I'll actually post on it.

So here's the article. More on it later.

How Triathlon is Saving My Life

The idea of Triathlon was first planted in my head through an uncle that had picked it up and was going wild with it. We all thought it was cool but I don’t think anyone in the family really knew or understood what it was all about. I vaguely thought it was pretty bad ass though. Fast forward a few years to an overweight, depressed, drowning woman. That was me. After a shattering end to my marriage I found myself at my biggest and at my lowest. I was surrounded by family that loved me but had no concept of self, let alone self-love.

Enter triathlon.

Everyone kept telling me to find something new to do. Find a new hobby. Learn a new skill. I toyed with everything from learning to play the cello to boxing. But one day at work I started looking at racing. Straight running has never appealed to me and probably never will so I looked into Tough Mudders, Spartan Racing, and other extreme obstacle races. This felt closer but still not quite right. Then as I was looking at local races that triathlon thing came up again. Dozens of articles later I was pretty sure I was hooked. It appealed to me on so many levels: list making, scheduling, new gear to buy. That last one in particular really got me in a perverse way. I've always struggled with impulsive spending and all of these articles kept warning and apologizing about the expense if you got hooked. New toys to buy and all in the name of fitness and doing something for myself!

I printed off four race options to take home as a surprise to my sister, Kylie. I knew which one I wanted and it was the one she immediately chose. Aspen. August 2013. It just so happened to coincide with the anniversary of my separation from my now ex-husband. It was my self-reclamation. Lucky for us it was a pool swim so it felt like we were taking things one step at a time. My sister and I started training. I had apps on my iPhone, more articles printed off and brought home to force on my sister, and a size chart indicating when I would fit into the trisuit I had decided on. 

Time passed, our training was very on and off again. As the weather cleared up we really picked it up again and started feeling prepared and scared. I had dropped 30lbs and was ready... kind of. 

Aspen.

Me and Bailey, while Kylie was "pumping herself up" in the front seat. 

My mom, other sister, niece, and dog came along with us for the weekend in Aspen. We threw our very heavy, borrowed bikes in the truck and drove off. I had read everything I could find about completing your first triathlon. We knew what to eat. What to wear. The one problem was that we hadn't managed to ride our bikes the distance of the races bike leg (16mi). Let alone with the elevation increase of the Maroon (Hells) Bells (look it up, it's a thing). This fact was haunting me and probably Kylie too but we didn't really talk about it probably hoping our sheer stubbornness would carry the day. 

Body marking. Hmm, small numbers make my muscles look so big!

We did the swim. They cut everyone off at a certain time and let you continue even if you were short. We both were at exactly 700 of the 800m distance and were thrilled as we had both shaved approximately 15 minutes off of the last time we had done that distance... Yeah. Maybe the bike leg wasn't the only one we were unprepared for. I flew through transition (all of my obsessive reading and insistence that we practice transition rearing it's head) only to face the 8mi trek up a mountain and 8mi's flying back down on a 30lb bike. I clipped in (yes, another splurge had been clip-less pedals for my bike. Oh how fancy I was) and headed out. Once the climb started in earnest I thought I had better stop and wait for Kylie. We hadn't addressed this beforehand but as we had done all of our training side by side it only felt right. Oh yeah, and I was sucking major air. She came along soon enough and as we took off again I didn't push off hard enough and tipped over with my foot stuck in my new-fangled pedal. I had a little road rash but more than that I had wrenched my ankle trying to catch my fall. I made Kylie go on while I sat there and thought "well I guess that's it". I cried. My ankle swelled up and someone came and got me after an EMT looked at it and said it probably wasn't broken. 

I quit. 

Kylie finished DFL (dead effing last) AND first in her age group at the same time (gotta love those small races). She had a medal and I was devastated. Bottom line? I could've gone on and I knew it. I should've gone on but I suppose I was still knew to this whole "I'm a bad ass triathlete" thing. There was still a large part of me that was still that fat, divorced, failure. So I quit. I went home and almost immediately went back to old bad habits. I was injured, it was the off season, and I told myself I needed a break. From what? I don't know. Living a better life I guess.

After the race on a gondola. Not doing so great.

Let's one-two-skip-a-few again here. 

Christmas. Me and Kylie were gifted the registration to a local triathlon--one of the first of the season--by our parents. I'm certain they saw what was happening to me more clearly than I did. I was not moving forward. I was going straight down. So I woke up a bit. I was thrilled with the gift. This was just what I needed. 

I got the apps back on my phone. I pulled my old-new gear out of the closet and headed off to the rec center with Kylie on the 2nd of January. The gym was packed. We had a frustrating workout. A few days later we had an even more frustrating swim. We were back at ground zero after all the hard work we had put in last summer. It was very discouraging. We stopped working out. I changed jobs. Time moved on. Kylie got engaged. Workouts were in the very far corner of my mind. I made a workout chart. A few weeks later, I made another one. Then we had a heart to heart. Is this going to happen? Are we going to do this? "Yes" I said while thinking, "I HAVE to do this". Not much changed. Oh, Kylie started working out fairly regularly. Not this guy, though. This guy started searching online for articles about going from the couch to a sprint in 5 weeks. Then 4 weeks. At 3 weeks out we finally went out to ride the bike course (a flat and easy 12 mi). We pumped up our very flat tires. Forgot our helmets. And off we went. I ended up with a skinless knee after doing the exact same thing I had done at Aspen. I tipped over. In gravel this time. I'm ok, but I suppose I'm glad I got it out of the way now rather than on race day. 

Race day is under 3 weeks away. I haven't gone swimming recently. I've biked the race course and did ok but had to take my sweet time. And I've been running exactly zero times. This is a terrible idea but I'm doing it. I'm very likely going to be DFL but I have made my peace with it. I'm scared but I know that after what happened last time what I am NOT going to do is give up. I felt like it was important to share this story now. I'm scared. I'm overweight again. I may very well DNF (did not finish) but I'm moving forward as the blogger Swim Bike Mom says. And that's what is important to me. Win, lose, or tip over, I'm going to keep going matter what happens.

Not So Delayed Review: Cirque du Soleil's Amaluna

Jackson and I went on another one of my "Best Date Ever w/a Family Member"s. We ate at Root Down. I had an amazing Sweet Corn Jalapeno Risotto and Jack got the Lamb Sliders. Obviously we shared some Sweet Potato Fries.

We then drove one mile to Pepsi Center Grounds to the Grand Chapiteau or Big Top all striped and French-i-fied.

The squinty eyes (or squiyes) is the new smize. Deal with it.

Stood outside in the sunny, rainy early evening proudly proclaiming ourselves to be the thick-skinned Oregonians we once were and discussed flagology. (Not to be mixed up with the very gruesome 'flogology' or the very bigoted... well I won't even say it. Ask my mom. She will. "Something that was OK in the 70s" my foot.)

When the doors finally opened we jumped in line to have our tickets scanned, took a quick look at the souvenirs (I bought some) and then ran back outside to wait in line for the one bathroom. No Soap... French-Canadians, man.

We then hopped back inside looked around (found a whole bunch more bathrooms) and then found our door and...waited in another line.

The cool thing about all the waiting in all the lines? They make you wish you waited in more lines in your every day life at Cirque du Soleil. There is so much to see, not to mention the impending awesomeness you know is coming your way in the show, and a certain I-don't-know-what European smell in the air. Though that last one might be due to all the sweaty furreigners warming up on the stage just curtain away. I don't know.

We then were quickly ripped from our enjoyment of the line waiting and ushered in the Grand Grand Chapiteau where we (or just maybe me) said a quick prayer of thanks that we hadn't over-paid for anything closer than we were. 'Twas perfect.

Almost got punched by a security guard for taking this picture/asked very nicely not to take anymore...

After yet another remarkably enjoyable wait of people watching and set examining and panicking for the poor people climbing along on the cat walks thousands, yes THOUSANDS of inches above my head seats were filled and Jackson was back with me to grumble about all the late comers climbing over us to their seats. BOOOOO!

Suddenly some weirdos started showing up suuuuuper late. They were either EXTREMELY into Cirque du Soleil and very talented costumers or they were performers. Ok, I'm sorry. They were performers. Perhaps one of my favorite parts of every Cirque show (please let me abbreviate it that way without being a tool... it's such a pain to type out every time) I've been to is that you're a part of the show 100%; almost like there's no backstage, or the audience are all performers as well... although that may just be wishful thinking on my part. As several women came walking by (the woman in the picture below was an especial friend of Jack's, she's from Australia... he looked it up, the creeper) in more and more freaking awesome hair, makeup, and costumes, I got more and more excited. Highlight of the opening? The bat-crazy lizard man stealing some guys popcorn in the $400 seats and climbing up one of the poles and dumping alllll over them. When he did that the guy next to me (not Jackson) was like "Oh man I'd be so pissed if they did that. That stuffs expensive." I assume the concession stands are aware that this happens and people get more for free (using that next time!) but the thought occurs to me that most people up there in those seats don't really care about a $10 popcorn... Just a thought for us poor people. How would that be? To be so rich that a $10 tub of popcorn is completely expendable!! Whoa. Mind. Blown.

She just seemed like we could really be good friends. Just saying.

So, mostly because I'm worried about that security guard cyber-punching me I will not be relating anything from the show... and also a little bit because I seem to have gone on a bit long for the first part... Weird.

If you're a freak and enjoyed this let me know, and I'll do a part deux in about..... a year. Or later this week depending on how boring life/work is.

Latres (French for "Laters")

A bientot,

Paige

Extremely Delayed Movie Review: Michael Clayton

This movie is Erin Brockovich with less cleavage. There is still cleavage. Oh yessssss. Just less. I am not going to say who provides the cleavage in the interest of maintaining some integrity in this review. I'll just say that as Tilda Swinton is the only significant female presence in the film you know it's not coming from her.

So because it was recently pointed out to me that a Spoiler Alert given after the spoiler is dropped is completely pointless here's my Spoiler Alert: This movie came out SIX YEARS AGO. Moving on.

I liked it. Mostly I enjoyed how much my dad wanted me to sit with him and watch it. :) Also I finished my puzzle midway through. Very intense. Lots of dialogue for George Clooney. Lots of close ups on his pretty eyes. Has anyone else noticed that he always looks like he has really subtle eyeliner on? It's lovely.

Things I didn't like: they killed Arthur!! Come on. I was almost out after that. I had a very hard time with this for two reasons, I believe. First, they were so cold and methodical about it and it came out of nowhere. Just ew. Second, at that point in the movie Arthur is the one I wanted to be all bad ass and take them down. He's so sweet.... except for the being obsessed with that younger girl and exposing himself... but I didn't see that part, so I'm gonna stick with him being sweet. So: NOT COOL Tilda, NOT Cool.

Overall Rating: Three Stars, one ring finger up, and mild applause.

What is Russia?

Going from staying with Corinne and Jason to staying with Isaac and Kristin has been very interesting. I've missed these boys a lot, that's for sure. Just thought I would like to share some of the funnier moments and things over heard.


-A few days ago, from the other side of the house, Kristin could be heard to say, "No more stand-up peeing for you." Poor Jimmer. You're just not quite there yet.


-Jake has a telescope that he drags around constantly. The other day, inevitably, Jake utilized said telescope in battle against Jimmer causing Isaac to impart the following words of wisdom: "Hey! That is a tool of learning, NOT a tool of war!" 


-Yesterday, it was beautiful and clear and Isaac had done some landscaping and mowing in the back yard. Jimmer and I were out enjoying the yard and the afternoon. He got himself hurt and came over and climbed up onto my lap. We leaned back and were looking at the clouds, finding shapes. I pointed to one large cloud that looked like Russia. He immediately agreed with my assessment, repeating, "Oh yeah, that looks like Russia." I asked if he knew what Russia is. He said, "Russia is a big mean man." I was fairly impressed and couldn't correct him as I'm sure there are many people with a lot more book learning than him that would say almost the same thing...When Jake came out soon after, James showed him our Russia cloud. I told James to tell Jake what Russia is. Jake laughed and said, "Russia's not a man, it's a big city!" Again, I was impressed. Less imaginative, certainly, but at least he knew the general category. 


More later.

Pop Culture Discussion: Book Learning

In doing verification searches online--you know, making sure things were spelled correctly, etc--I eventually had to decide. Do I go with the funny? (ie Dave Stockton's Putting guide or Elissa Schappell's collection of brutal short stories about the reality and ugly side of being a woman, working satirically against her title--a title borrowed from a "vintage etiquette manuel".) Just the idea of the smize line on the back of either of those books tickled me... Or do I set poor ole Tyra amongst titles that come highly recommended?

Obviously, I like to laugh. I decided for getting my cheap kicks and told myself I would follow-up that post with this one, giving my solemn vow to never read Modelland. Now, if any of you feel so compelled let me assure you that, being no stranger to guilty pleasures / absolute crap quality-wise, there will be no judgin' on this good vessel. Read away. Only let me make these few suggestions for preludes or chasers of Modelland. Very inoffensive, light fare...more or less.

If you don't take these suggestions--it's no skin of my Ashtabula--I probably won't read 'em either. I was just doing it for the children.

Boomerang: Travels in the New Third World by Michael Lewis

The Art of Fielding: A Novel by Chad Harbach

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

...ok, I'll probably read this one.

Pop Culture Quiz: Book Learning

On the back cover of which of the following newly released books out there in that vast and varied market of ours will you find the following words to live by: "Beauty is in the smize of the beholder."

1 - Blueprints for Building Better Girls by Elissa Schappell

2 - That Used to Be Us: How America Fell Behind in the World It Invented and How We Can Come Back by Thomas L. Friedman

3 - Unconscious Putting: Dave Stockton's Guide to Unlocking Your Signature Stroke by Dave Stockton

4 - Modelland by Tyra Banks

5 - A Visit From the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan

Bailey is, sadly, out of the running on this one as she was my main / only source.

He-Man Nation

It recently came to my attention that I have been singing the wrong, though preferable in my opinion, words to the only song worth mentioning (that’s right I said it) by the band Filter: “Hey Man, Nice Shot”. Changing the title line to “He-Man Nation”. See what I mean? Yeah. Better. Rather than making the necessary adjustments and correcting my error, I have decided that this is evolution at it’s best—survival of the fittest. Mistakes and mutations that are better and stronger force out those that are lesser, replace those that were weaker. I rule.

Ok, He-Man Nation, I’ve set the example and now I would like to open the floor to hear your examples of wins and fails. They don’t necessarily have to be song lyrics and they don't have to be yours, though you will get extra points, as always, for any self-flagellation. What have you made better or worse…on accident…or on purpose, but seriously though…on accident?

Just serendipitous.

Favorites of 2010

So here is a link to Whit's blog post about his favorite things from 2010 (not to be confused with Oprah's). And I couldn't decide if I wanted to go with a Nacho Libre or a Groundhog's Day reference here so I'm going to try to mash them together. Here goes: "Are ju kidding me?! Everything ju just said is me...me...also me...whew, I am really close here!" Basically Whitney's list was both pretty awesome in and of itself and could double almost completely (with some GLARING exceptions--ANTM, I'm looking at you...) for my list of favorite things from 2010. Though, once again, just to be sure we're not confusing things: this is NOT Oprah's list, guys. It's NOT. As in 'isn't'. You're not getting any and or all of these items...If you look under your seat right now, they won't all be jammed under it. We cool? ...We cool.

Some day I may follow-up with my edits...maybe it'll even be before 2011's over. I realize this is the Western Family version of this post! So sue me. Sometimes the Western Family brand tastes better!

¡Viva la Revolución!

I came home today to find the words "Viva Mexico" written in hot pink chalk on my neighbors driveway in what I'm assuming is the handwriting of the little girl that lives next door. Should I be worrying about a revolución? All I know is: I'm not gonna underestimate her. First generation kids of Mexican Immigrant parents pack quite the punch. They unfairly end up with two native languages (usually speaking Spanish scary fast), play soccer hella-well which equals the foot speed of a raptor, and can swing a stick at a piñata or your head with deadly precision and strength. If they decide to fight back or just fight we're goners.

So, what do I do? In the words of Jack Donaghy: "Be an American. Call it in."

Or maybe I'll sleep on it. In the meantime: ¡Viva Mexico!

To Check Out...

HitRecord is a project of Joseph Gordon Levitt's. It's amazing. I'm not gonna try to explain more than the picture and the link. If you want to go check it out. If not the sword. I think it's a really great idea and love that he's doing this for lesser known artists.

And now--I call this "Monkey Support":

Guess Who I Spoke to Today?

:Mr Knightley and Mr Wickham. Surprise surprise, Mr Wickham was indeed an absolute delight. Just delightful! He sounded just like Jude Law. (Who I met once. In an alleyway. He thought I was a hobo. We had a moment.) Mr Knightley? Kind of little bit of a punk. A Technophobe. And a pain in my aching American head in general. Not what I expected out of my britons. Not what Miss Austen had lead me to believe at all.

I shall keep you abreast of any further developments.

Yes. I said "abreast".

Gitana.

Favorites from Work

Britishisms from work. Just thought you'd enjoy a couple of the most awesome ones.

: "No, no. 'e' as in 'apple'."

--I get this ALL the BLOODY TIME!!!! It never fails to crack me up! Now, when you say the 'e' make sure you aren't flexing any of the muscles around your mouth, that's right. You've got it.

: Us: "What internet browser are you on?"

Them: "Uhhh...... orange?"

Us: "....No."

--I should say in their defense that Orange is an internet provider over on the other side of the pond, so this isn't that idiotic... but there is always the distinct possibility/hope that they were referring to Mozilla Firefox which is kind of orange.

: Ok, we got an email from a woman requesting Hugh Grants information because she was, apparently, his Baby Mama (claiming to have had a kid for him). Here's hoping she doesn't come upon my blog while doing her family "research. It was amazing. I will go into no more detail than that.

: A man called in with the surname "Farquart". As in Lord Farquart. As in "he huffed and he puffed and he....signed an eviction notice." From Shrek. Pronounced exactly the same way. My coworker had a hard time getting through that call and I made sure he had a hard time getting through that call. It was 'mazing.

: Last one for today. This is an email I got in Spanish which I will just give you the rough translation of. "I wish to know my ancestry, where I come from, because I have gypsy tendencies."

Oh heavens. Family history can answer so many questions about who we are. It's the most fulfilling part of my day, more than being a plastic surgeon, or cat declawer, say. It's truly wonderful.

I hope this has given you all a small insight into what I do in the wee small hours of the morning and why I never answer my phone any more. I love you.

Paige sleepy.

Pearls Before Breakfast

What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

--from "Leisure," by W.H. Davies

I only just found this yesterday but can't stop thinking about it. In 2007 the Washington Post conducted what was, basically, an anthropological experiment. I could give you all the technical terms, straight out of my "How to do anthropological fieldwork" texts of the past two years. Such an interesting idea. They placed Joshua Bell, a seriously talented ("prodigy", "genius"--oh, they went there) violinist, incognito at a heavily trafficked metro hub for government jobs in Washington D.C. He played fantastically difficult but not generally familiar, crowd pleasing violin solos for 43 minutes on his Strad (worth several million bucks) and his case laid out a la your basic street performer that many urbanites view as transients. Beggars. Please give me money. Man! It's just so interesting. He was there for the morning rush to work. Over a thousand travelers passed within 10 ft of his performance.

The hypotheses were many but most leaned in the direction of success. Definitely some recognition. Even possibly serious issues of crowd control should he be recognized or onlookers simply clogged the area.

While maybe a little disappointed (I realize I would've most likely failed as they did) I am really not surprised in the actual result: $32.17 and three people that noticed his quality AND stopped to listen for more than one minute.

The Post followed up with interviews from several participants (ignorant of the experiment at the time) and Gene Weingarten wrote a Pulitzer winning article based on his review of interviews, the hidden camera footage of the experiment, and scholars assessment of what happened. The article is long but really worth reading if you think this kind of thing sounds interesting... you know--being human, interacting with the world around us, recognizing culture and beauty? Meh. Maybe it's not for you. ;)

I'll give my cliffs notes and reaction here anyway if you are an idiot and don't read it for yourself... Nope, no hypocrisy on this blog. (There are pictures, if it helps... *shrug* It helped me.)

So, why this shocking, even depressing result? Genie-boy tosses out a few suggestions. The most obvious of course--we're too busy for our own good, we are so internally focused that we don't notice beauty around us, we feel especially uncomfortable with that type of individual--the beggar--so we go out of our way to avoid and ignore, we wouldn't recognize true culture or beauty if it dance naked in front of us... well, maybe not. Bad choice of words on my part... sorry. One man had had no idea there had been a musician there at all despite walking within a few feet of him. He had ear buds in. Listening to his iPod. The ironic beauty of it? No he wasn't listening to Joshua Bell, but that would've been freaking hilarious. He was listening to "Just Like Heaven" by the Cure which is about understanding what Beauty is and not appreciating it when it's right in front of you...

I think that those reasons are all probably factors in the result. Gene thinks otherwise, however. And while I am usually the kind of person that would rather knowingly walk off a cliff in the opposite direction of that damn dangling carrot, I followed Genie as he dangled that Pulitzer Prize... The article comes down to one big ole' feel good rationalization... I mean 'conclusion'. It's not our fault. Unframed art is no longer art. Take a Kandinsky out of its frame in a museum and it's no longer a multi-million dollar work of art. We can't process that stuff out of context. Well, I feel better, don't you?

Ok, you know, what? I just remembered that I don't even like carrots! Or Pulitzer Prizes... A world reknown violinist playing Bach and Schubert isn't the same to me as not recognizing abstract art. Even if it is! I think it's sad that we live our lives this way. I don't even have a freaking job and I do it. I think I would rather chance assigning beauty to more things that I see than deserve it than chance missing such obvious beauty while walking within 10 ft of it. The saddest part about all of this to me? The poet I quoted at the start (from the article--I did NO research!), Davies? He was a hobo. Is that what it takes? Do we need an Emmerich-esque world-wide disaster to get us back to a simpler way of life, disruptive technology gone? I'd like to think that with some personal effort we can have both. I really like modern plumbing and my iPod...

That's all. As I finish this sucker off, I am very aware of two things. First, the fact that odds are very good that this post is in some way quite ridiculous: disorganized, self-important, full of typos, too long or one of many other things that I hate hate HATE!!! And second, it is 3am. I don't sleep much any more and am therefore kind of constantly on the edge of crazy. Seriously, though. Even if my talk is crazy, please read the article, watch the video of it, and tell me what you think about all this. I have this feeling that this is at the core of a lot of ugliness in the world right now.

Achilles Under the Knife

Well, my man-cat is being de-manned today. My mom called me this morning to report that he is ok, and checked in for his surgery. During the conversation she mentioned that I could follow the tweet updates of his surgery on their website. So, I'm not going to lie, I may have payed a little more attention in this mornings class to Achilles' surgery updates than to Adam Smith...

Later, I was relieved to receive the tweet: Ahilles is recovering well from surgery & able to go home anytime after 2:00 pm." But the relief was momentary for just after that tweet was another saying: "Hector is recovering comfortably from surgery & able to go home anytime after 12:30pm."

There are a couple issues here. First, HECTOR?! Are they kidding me? I hope those vets payed attention in their GE Humanities classes to know that those animals can NOT be allowed in the same room as eachother sedated or otherwise. Second, what's this 'comfortably' nonsense? I'm sure my cat deserves the same amount of comfort due to Hector, Driver of Horses! MY cat's part god, for heaven's sake! And, Third, uh, why is Hector being released sooner?! I'm going to chalk it up to the fact that Hector's manhood was, well, smaller and, um, more easily removed than Achilles'.

Because it's BYU football time I'll begin this photographic trip down memory lane with this shot of Achilles getting to "know" our poor BYU cheerleader bear.







Jackson: "You will learn submission."
Achilles: "Like hell..."








Whitney, as you all know, tried to resist Achilles, but gave in eventually.









And here he is wondering why we are using his bathroom as our voting booth...








Or maybe he just wanted a vote too... Votes for cats!









And here is Achilles with his mommy.

BYU offs Oklahoma and Provo goes BERSERK!!!

Some videos of me and Whit driving home from watching the game and enjoying all the craziness.

Just Lying Around...

Whitney got home from work today and welcomed me and the weekend by tackling me to the ground! For those of you that know us both and are, naturally, confused, allow me to explain: I was in the final climax of Harry Potter 7. Basically my mind was elsewhere. Oh yeah, and I was completely entangled in this huge feather blanket. (I love keeping our apartment cold just to glory in the central air... Whitney will most likely put a stop to it once we receive our first utilities bill so I've got to enjoy it while it lasts!)

It was a cheap shot and I can assure you all that I shall be revenged. Luckily my laptop lay on the ground near where my head ended up and I was able to get hard evidence with my photo booth app.!!!

Daily Doings

Whitney, Chris, Jared, and I just got home from seeing Okkervil River at the free concert series they have every summer. It was great but concerts always take a lot out of me... Combine that with Radiohead and a TON of apparently sourceless I-15 traffic on the way home and you get one suuuuuper tired Paige.

The crown was necessary to give me the happy energy I needed to finish folding laundry before going night-night.

I call this Whitney's dead fish face. He just gets sexier and sexier with each passing day.