A photo blog for the lazy

And now ladies and gentleman, a photo blog. Cause a picture is worth a thousand words. And cause I'm feeling too lazy to write an actual entry. And cause Dexter season 3 is on DVD and is demanding to be watched. And cause I'm feeling lazy.



Two weeks ago Rachael, Erica and I all went to see the midnight showing of The Time Traveller's Wife.
Normally I abhore chick flicks, but I since I had read the book in two sittings AND Eric Bana was playing the leading role.. well exceptions can be made.

Knowing how the movie would end, we came prepared. With tissues.

Or rather, Rachael stole the box of tissues from the theater bathroom. Sorry AMC.

Then last night was a long over due daddy daddy daughter date. We haven't done a family day since the Impromtu Cali Trip of June.

We started with sushi and drinks. I discovered a love for pear sake and the boys enjoyed sake bombers

We played games

We ate cookies

And Ryan impressed us with his spot on snake impersonatio

Sell out! with me tonight

Cause I'm shameless and I want to win a free session.


Ashley is a local photographer trying to get her name out there. She's got a great eye.
http://ashleymadsenphotography.com/blog/

Check her out!

Crossfit, you are now my bitch

I've never been keen on exercise.

I danced through school. Literally. My first period of the day was dance, after school I had two-four hours of dance classes depending on the weekday and then I spent the weekends dancing with a group of kids that loved swing dancing with all their geeky hearts. I breathed dance. You know that awful montage in Footloose where all the characters practice their dance moves in random places like the school hallways and the diner? That was me. All. The. Time.

Casey once bet me that I couldn't make it through the lunch hour without spinning. I made it ten minutes.

I loved dancing. Swing, Jazz, Lyrical, Hip Hop (which didn't love me but I kept trying it nevertheless), Ballet, Salsa. I had dreams of owning my own studio and never going a day without music and movement.

But life happens. My dad was no longer working, classes were considered an unnecessary luxury and I was forced to quit dancing cold turkey. I could tell you how my heart broke, which it did, I could tell you about the void it left in my life, which there was, but the truth is, that was years ago. Life continued. In college I have taken some dance classes, just for fun. I found an a salsa club when I lived in utah that was so authentic I was the only person there who was blonde and didn't speak spanish. In phoenix there is a rocking goth club that Ryan and I dance at and giggle the whole time. My kitchen frequently hosts dance partys with the attendance of one.

That being said, I've never considered dance as a form of exercise. It was art, it was healing, it was fun. But work? Exercise? Never. The fact that I was skinny and in shape during those years of dance was merely luck.

Fastforward a few years. I entered a point in my life where not only would my body and self image appreciate the exercise, but so would my soul. I worked in an office that caused more stress on me then I would care to admit, my romantic relationship was becoming more rocky as each day passed and many of my friends had moved out of state. I was stressed And I was lonely. There was no outlet for all my petty angst. I suppose I could have dyed my hair black, ripped up my clothes and wrote bad poetry. Oh wait, I did dye my hair black. But after a brief period of just letting everything build up inside, I turned to working out as way to work out my aggression.

I started going to the gym with either Berto or Cliff, whoever was available that night. Berto, Matt and I would sometimes run at the local junior high. I hated those days. I hated all of it. What I hated the most was the knowledge that I did feel better on the days I worked out. Both emotionally and physically. So I kept working out, changing gym partners as people came in and out of my life. Never really enjoying it, but sticking with it because I noticed the difference in my life when I wasn't consistent.

Now I'm one of those nuts who talk about how good exercise is for the soul and feel guilty when I miss a day of working out. Seriously, I could be catholic with the amount of guilt I'm capable of feeling when I bail on my training buddy.

Last October I started P90X. I was in ok shape, but nothing to brag about. I stuck with it until January. At that point I could no longer handle Tony Horton. P90X is a great workout system, but even with all the different workout options it still gets repetitive. In January I started Crossfit, which is a daily, different, twenty minute workout program that is posted online everyday. To emphasis just how hard Crossfit is I'll tell you now that I've never been able to do the daily workout as stated. And I've been training for four days a week for a triathlon in addition to doing crossfit for the last two months. Crossfit is what the actors from 300 did for three hours a day to get those drool-worthy abs three months before filming. So yeah, crossfit is hard. For the last two months I've only been doing it two or three times a week because 1) I've been training with Rachael for my first triathlon 2) it's hard and I jumped (well, sluggishly crawled) at the slightest excuse to not do it.

Now, the reason behind this incredibly long and detailed post? Well today I did the crossfit workout as stated. For the first time ever. I accomplished the whole damn workout.
Which was:
Walking lunge 100 ft.
21 Pull-ups 21 Sit-ups
Walking lunge 100 ft.
18 Pull-ups 18 Sit-ups
Walking lunge 100 ft.
15 Pull-ups 15 Sit-ups
Walking lunge 100 ft.
12 Pull-ups 12 Sit-ups
Walking lunge 100 ft.
9 Pull-ups 9 Sit-ups
Walking Lunge 100 ft.
6 Pull-ups 6 Sit-ups

And I did it. Take that crossfit.

Yoga, How I loathe thee

Every six months or so I think to myself "I should do yoga". So I go to one class and swear never to go again. For me, yoga is boring. Yes it stretches my body, yes I feel good afterwards, but I swear its the longest hour of my life. All the talk about breathing, opening your third eye, align your stars... Blah. The seconds tick backwards on the clock. Cara says its because I have no inner peace. I'm ok with that. I know that I have a passionate, violent soul. I like high energy, loud music, turbulence, work me until I collapse, exercise. Breathing and reaching for the moon while opening my fifth nostril does not fit in with those requirements.

But for six months or so I see people with fantastic bodies claim yoga is all they do, hear how good yoga is for the soul, and I start to forget how I detest yoga. ( this is called brainwashing ). So tonight was the end of another six months. So I geared up, and went to yoga at my local gym.

And was bored within the first four minutes.

But I'm not one to walk out of a class, so I stretched my body, participated in the warrior wishes he had a gun pose and proceeded to plan the tattoo I was going to get so I would never foget how much I hate yoga.

And then the instructor did this.. thing.. I swear her forty year old body had her legs resting on her head in the floating in the middle of the air. Ok, she wasn't flying, but she was bent backward with one leg over her head and twisting around her neck. I was so intrigued I fell out of my pose and onto my butt. The rest of the class went about the same boring class, but I made a decsion. I was going to suck it up and keep going to yoga until I could do that. I mean.. to bend your body like that? I could join Cirque du Soleil!

So, with that goal in mind.... Any one want to help soften my boredom in yoga and come with me??

Soulmate? Yes Please

What I Want

I want somebody who sees the pointlessness
and still keeps their purpose in mind
I want somebody who has a tortured soul
some of the time
I want somebody who will
either put out for me
or put me out of misery
or maybe just put it all to words
and make me say, you know I never heard it put that way
make me say, what did you just say?
I want somebody who can hold my interest
hold it and never let it fall
someone who can flatten me with a kiss
that hits like a fist
or a sentence, that stops me like a brick wall
because if you hear me talking
listen to what I'm not saying
if you hear me playing guitar
listen to what I'm not playing and don't ask me to put words
to all the spaces between notes
in fact if you have to ask, forget it
do and you'll regret it
I'm tired of being the interesting one
I'm tired of having fun for two
just lay yourself on the line
and I might lay myself down by you
but don't sit behind your eyes and wait for me to surprise you
I want somebody who can make me scream until it's funny
give me a run for my money
I want someone who can twist me up in knots
tell me, for the woman who has everything what have you got?
I want someone who's not afraid of me
or anyone else
in other words I want someone who's not afraid of themself
do you think I'm asking too much?

In A Perfect World

This was from September 2008. A piece of fiction written in the style of Mr. Andy


We'll meet through chance. Maybe we'll both be at a bookstore, not a big corporate bookstore that is well lit and has soft music, but a family owned bookstore that has almost as much dust as it does books. I'll notice you over in the mystery section and be mortified that a cute guy saw me in the biography section, totally forgetting that anyone in a bookstore is likely to be as geeky as me and not care that I have the biography of Locke in my hands. Hell, you might even be more impressed by it. Our eyes will meet again as you sit down in a chair near mine and I'll wonder if you sat there because you hoped to start a conversation or because it was the only chair available. I consider waiting to see if you'll start a conversation, then remember that I'm not the type of girl who waits and sees. I'll grin lazily at you and say 'hello stranger'.

You'll be startled but flash a quick smile that tells me you did pick the seat on purpose. We'll start a conversation about our books and realize we could spend hours talking about the written word. And realize that we have. My stomach will protest, loudly, and we'll both laugh. You'll ask me to dinner and I'll counter the offer by suggesting appetizers and drinks instead. And then you'll say that line that is heard so often in black and white movies but rarely in real life, "let's get out of here".

We'll go to your favorite restuarant and the banter and real conversation will flow just as easily as a Gilmore Girl's episode. I'll confess my love for Joseph Gordon Lovett and you'll say 'I love Brick!' and that will turn my little crush on you into something more. When you tell me you own a mastiff and you named him Cuchulainn I will swoon, not only because you have a great big dog, but you named from irish mythology. Last call will send us reluctanctly outside to the real world and to our cars. When you ask if you can see me again I'll ask if you've ever read Dostoevsky. You'll know what short story I'm talking about without me even mentioning the title. You'll nod once. And then as I'm walking away, almost to my car, you will call my name. When I turn I'll find that you have chased me down and you're slightly out of breathe, and that you are awfully cute when your out of breathe. You'll ask me to write my number and put it in any book at the bookstore that we met in, and if you find it then screw the russians.

The next day I am at the cozy little bookstore, with a smile that refuses to leave my face. I have a scrap of paper with ten digits on it in my hand. I slip that paper into a book that means something to both of us, then look around at the little bookstore almost sadly. I love that little bookstore, but I won't be coming back. Dostoevsky had the right way of impromtu meetings with strangers. They are always perfect and that perfection should not be messed with by having a second meeting.

Unless, of course, you happen to open The Tain Bo Cualinge and see my phone number. In which case, screw the russians.

A Message In A Bottle

Since it's a new blog I'm pulling some stuff from older blogs. This was from March 2009 I think


Don't think for a moment that I cry in my bed for you every night. Or that I stay home and eat ice cream out of deppression from losing you.

It's not like that.

I go about my life actively trying to find ways to banish you from my memories. I take other guys to our special spots, I go out of my way to cook with Matt, or work out with Patrick. I talk to Andy when I feel weak, or want to share something happy. I accept every invitation for a date. When it comes to other guys I use them as dynomite to blow up the hold you still have over me.

That being said, I still miss you. I still crave you. None of these guys come close to you, whether its conversation, fun or chemistry. God damn it. I still care for you.

I love my life right now. Sure, I'm not in another country or traveling but I adore my job, love my co-workers, have a sweetheart dog, lots of dates, and for the first time in my life I not only know what I want to do with my life, but I know the path I need to travel to get there. I have a car, and am in the middle of the hiring process for a job that will pay really well AND allow me to pay for school. I feel peace for the first time in a long time, knowing that I have a future, a career, a life that fulfills everything my soul needs. I have a great group of friends, ones that I party with, giggle with, tell secrets with and grow with. I feel needed, accepted, loved by these friends.

The damn construction work that was blocking my path has finally finished and cleared up. Yes, I know that there will be missteps and that there might be more construction to be done on my road. I've been walking down this path for quite a while and it's like I just now realized there was a map for this path. I no longer worry about how much time it is taking me to travel. Reading that map reassures me that I know where I'm going.

But I miss your companionship. We were close for far too long for me not too.

I love my life right now. I'm genuinally happy. Yet missing you is a dull ache, one I only notice on a occasion. We were puzzle pieces and there are moments when I miss how we fit. I use my friends to fill in the holes you left. I use dates the way others use drugs, both for recational use and to forget you.

But I'm learning the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul. I'm learning that love does not mean leaning and company does not mean security. I'm learning that kisses aren't contracts and presents aren't promises. And I've begun to accept defeats with my head up, and my eyes ahead, with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child. I'm learning that even sunshine burns if I get too much, so I plant my own garden and decorate my own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring me flowers. And I'm learning, that I really can endure, that I really am strong, and I'm learning and I learn with every goodbye, I learn.

I don't understand how life can be so good for me, how I can enjoy it so much and still have any room in my life to miss you. But I do.


(and the part of me that is not as well adjusted hopes you are just as tormented from me walking out of your life. Cause i'm not all sunshine and rainbows)

A Chance Encounter

Have you ever accidently run into someone that you used to know really well but was no longer close to?

There's a moment of surprise. Your heart beats a little faster because, well, at one time they brought you happiness. There was a time when being in their company brought you joy and their approval meant something to you. For a moment you are genuinely happy to see them.

Then commen sense kicks in and you remember why the two of you are no longer close. The slight joy that had struck only a moment ago flitters away and all you are left with is panicked thoughts of how to get away as quickly and politely as possible. The two of you make awkward conversation that is hard to end. The awkwardness extends from the fact that all of their movements, quirks, style of speech is familior to you. You instinctively know how their head will bob when they emphasize a statement and how their eyes will widen just before they laugh. But it's like you are talking to a robot who moves and talks like that person you once knew so well. Because this person is no longer the person who they were when you loved them. They've changed. Or you've changed. Somewhere down the line they had let you down. Either way, your relationship is no longer the same.

It's slightly painful.

My training partner was with me when this happened this morning. It's always harder to go through these type of encounters when there is an outside third party present. Now you have to introduce the two people, one who you used to be close to and the other who you are currently close to. The lack of relationship is almost tangible. The third party can sense the slight tension and doesn't know whether her role should be to try and make things less awkward or try and hurry the conversation to a close.

So you make awkward conversation, laugh at how little things have changed and yet how much. You mentally decide to never go to that place again just so you can make sure you can avoid that person. Finally you both run out of things to say and go your own way.

As you walk away, your training partner looks at you and says " funny, that's not how I pictured your father would look like."

Why Am I Doing This To Myself Again?

Things that make training for a triathlon easier:

A) lots of inner rage and agnst that has no other outlet
B) a training partner that is in better shape then you
B1) and has longer legs then you, a better bike, used to be on swim team and more overall experience then you
C) the knowledge that you get to go back to sleep after your shower before you have to go to work
D) the fact that your triathlon is in a month (squeak!)
E) loud loud music
F) a secret desire to look like Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If I can't have her boyfriend then at least I can have her body.


Things that make training for a triathlon harder:

A) lots of inner rage that quickly dissipates as the hills get harder
B) a training partner that is in better shape then you
C) the knowledge that you could be sleeping
D) the fact that your triathlon is in a month and you feel so very unprepared
E) the lack of music when your ipod dies because you still have 13 miles to go and life hates you
F) knowing that you're never going to look like Buffy and even if you did her boyfriend is still not going to date you (but he might! there's always hope!)