A quick inventory of all the great stuff I got for my birthday yesterday. [For the record: I’m 31 now. Apparently, when you turn 31, you don’t get a kick-ass surprise birthday party like you do when you turn 30.] The first present came at 5:59 am when D met me to run. Still half… Continue reading birthday booty
I wanted to weigh in quickly on the current discussion about moms drinking during playdates. Melissa at Suburban Bliss took some flack a while back for posting about cocktail playgroups, and it cultivated enough discussion that she was asked to be on the Today show to talk about it. Mrs. Kennedy at Fussy responds, saying… Continue reading when CAN i drink?
I’m sitting in the quiet house. B’s at class, little J’s at preschool for the morning. Big kids at school. I’m going through my initial study corpus of blogs for the diss*, scanning briefly to get an idea of what they post about, how much traffic and comments they get, how long they’ve been around… Continue reading a rare peek into my illogical mind
Point well-taken, Fran. She posted in a comment earlier this week that I’m writing here more about running than anything, and that in doing so I am making myself a liar (see masthead that claims I post mostly about eating). Here’s what I’m making today: cherry chip chocolate cookies. I found the recipe in a… Continue reading post full of gratuitous Zs
I’m quickly learning to not check the temp as I leave my house to run in the morning. Once upon a time, I had a (probably smart) rule: no outdoor runs on days below 10F. I didn’t make that rule up; it is a rule I remember from an old Runner’s World article, or maybe… Continue reading recklessly or thoughtlessly bold; foolishly rash or venturesome
I have a confession. A minor one, but an admission I should have made about 3 weeks ago nonetheless: I have pledged this year to run once EVERY day*. In addition, I resolved to work on** my dissertation every day. So far, I have been successful at keeping to both resolutions solidly. I should mention… Continue reading the snow. it cometh.
Posts and pictures like this and this make a long-buried, Donna-Reid urge surface from the reptillian depths of my brain. I want a clean house. I want organization. I LOVE neat stacks and lines. I thrive amidst that which is tidy and findable. How can I want this so badly and still not be able… Continue reading its. not. fair.