I recently read some books. And had a torrid affair with the Beautiful Creatures young adult trilogy (which I surreptitiously read ebook style).
Salmon Fishing in the Yemen – vaguely amusing. reminded me a bit of Bridget Jones, but from a man point of view. Characters were rather unbelievable in their portrayal of one archetype or another, but some were still likable.
Shrug. Maybe see the movie instead?
The Family Fang – oh, what a weird book. About a family of performance artists. The parents were masters of their craft – doing destructive and crazy things in public just to see and record the reactions of passers-by. Once they had kids, they started using them in the act and the kids grow up without learning how to engage in any normal sort of way. The “art” is intended to make other people uncomfortable and that’s how reading the book largely made me feel.
The Magician’s Assistant – I remember reading and loving Bel Canto (also written by Ann Patchett) many years ago, so I had high expectations for this one. I liked this book alright, but didn’t love it. Sabine is in love with her gay friend, Parsifal the magician. After Parsifal’s main man friend dies, he marries Sabine (because why not?) and then he dies. His family, which he had told her had died in a car crash in his youth, is actually alive and living in South Dakota and seeks her out to get reacquainted with their lost son through her.
I couldn’t get behind the premise of the story and was left befuddled by the outcome, but it was written in a beautiful, dream-like way, making it an easy and engaging read.
I had to leave Craftcation early to come home and do something the opposite of fun: another half marathon.
It was pretty fail and I’m still feeling rather ho-hummish about it. Trying to let it go and focus on getting better for next time.
[Next time? Why not just focus on not running at all? So many "I don't know!"]
I finished in 2:56:56, which you can write an essay about and compare and contrast to my other times here. (Are you on Athlinks?)
It’s about the same time as my last half in December. For which I was under-trained and walked a good chunk of. I did get my training in this time, but those were slow, too. So my performance wasn’t unexpected.
Ah, well. Nothing I can do about now.
Despite the boo-hiss nature, there were actually quite a few positives from the race:
a. I did it.
b. I didn’t die.
c. Michelle, came to stay with us and also ran it. And she tied her PR, which is pretty excellent.
d. My work husband came out to watch and I saw him just before Mile 10.
e. It was an insanely beautiful perfect day.
f. The spectators, bands, djs and cheer stations were awesome. The church congregation in their Sunday best cheering from their front steps, the woman yelling “You’re beautiful, you’re amazing!” from her balcony, the dude channeling a clothed thunder-down-under attitude while standing atop his flaming, Burning Man contraption, the little kids giving out high fives.
So there you go. My 3rd Oakland Running Festival = done. An event that I can’t help but loathe and love.
Something wonderful happened.
After going to ALT summit in January, I had an internal hissyfit about not doing any of the things that I admire in other people and wanting to learn to do more stuff. As a random start to rectify this, I signed myself up for a sewing class at workshop sf. It turns out that the lady teaching the class had also gone to ALT, so we had a little connecting over that. And then she told me that she and her business partner organize this event called Craftcation, a mythical creature I had just learned about from someone else at ALT. It’s a multi-day conference full of crafting and making stuff. The sewing teacher, Nicole, told me I should go. I was noncommital and daunted by my inadequacies.
And then, a few days later over email, she suggested that Blurb should go, to scope it out as an option for sponsorship in 2014. One can do anything, wearing a ninja cloak of sponsorship!
The stars aligned: my marketing department said that there was no budget to send me, but try to keep the costs down and they’d send me. My boss, who’s under no obligation to let me do marketing things, but also happens to be into craftiness herself, said that I could go (missing two days in the office) if I took some time to do some user research about the crafters as a potential book-making segment.
I loved it so hard. There was no posturing or jockeying for position. Costume changes were minimal. There were classes about how to try and make money, but to make money because you created something, not because you have followers. The food was beautiful and wholesome, like a meal you would have with your favorite foodie friends. The attendees were friendly and genuine and interested and talented.
I fully intend to go again next year. In fact, I would go again this weekend, if I could.
Instead, I will try to give myself some time to learn new things and the wiggle room to be less than stellar while I do.
So yay for all of that and then some.
“I love you with all my butt. I would say heart, but my butt’s bigger. <3″
What do we think of this?
I decided that wearing a pink cardigan and red jeans together at the same time was bonkers, yet awesome.
And then every time I caught sight of myself in a mirror, all I saw was bonkers.
I could probably recount every football game I’ve ever watched and bore myself silly doing it. I went to a few games in high school and college, but shrug. I went to a pro game last year. There was a rainbow and I took a neat photo with a faux tilt-shift effect of the little players on the field. Such is the level of my interest in the playing of the game.
And yet, it was a weekend rife with the stuff.
On Saturday, we watched the Oscar-winning documentary film, Undefeated, about a Memphis high school team with a chance to be winners after decades of suckitude. Amy posted about it last week and as she is a benchmark of fantastic in my ledger, I wanted to give it a go. It was crazy compelling and interesting to see this underdog storyline with the motivational coach without all of the spit and polish that you’d see in a regular movie version. The David and I both got really wrapped up in it.
And then, as if that wasn’t enough footballism, we went to a Super Bowl party on Sunday. I’ve done that once before and had been promised that people don’t really watch the game; it’s just a party. But that dude was just trying to woo my Jessica and that promise was a lie. People watch the Super Bowl and they don’t stop until it is over.
I don’t know if it was because there was a San Francisco team involved or because we were plopped on a couch front and center, but I actually really got in to yesterday’s game. I did some hooting and some hollering and was quite disappointed that the 49′ers didn’t win after all that hopeful comebacking.
I think I actually liked it. I feel weird now.
Also, I totally want to buy a farmer.
We’ve been remiss at keeping in touch. Please forgive us. We are very busy.
We have shed our kittenish appearances for full fledged cattiness. But we still get up to much in the way of antics and wanton destruction.
This is me, Rocket. Cat #1. I have a flair for the cantankerous and enjoy biting.
But when the mood strikes, I like to make with zee snuggle. If we snuggle too hard, though, and I get really happy, then I drool. It is charming and grotesque all at once. My favorite time to tell you about my love is in the pre-dawn gloaming, around 4 am. After that, it is time to have fisticuffs with my cat-at-arms, Luna.
Yeah, that’s me, Luna, the lovely lady lump. When I am not cooking my rump in front of the radiator, I would like to come sit on you and then get up and turn around and then sit on you that way. And then put my right paw in and sit on you. And then shimmy coco puff sit on you some more. And because I am badass, I will also purr like the mother fucking dickens while doing all that squirrelly sitting.
We are friends sometimes. Except in the bathtub, where we are sworn to be mortal enemies. Commence scuffling!
Just try to be so awesome. Try it and be disappointed. Your belly is far too unfurry.
And your tail has got no stripes.
Until next time, humans. Enjoy all that being awake you do.