YEA JUNE!

June, you rocked! I love the fact that summer came blasting in with the top down, the music cranked, and the alcohol flowing. I feel so alive in the summer. All the pensive, melancholy brooding of months just falls away as I'm outside running or swimming or rollerblading or biking. I feel like my crazy self again.

Which means I have little time to spare for goals:

1) Once again, a failed eating plan. Maybe that's why I have only successfully lost and kept off a grand total of 4 pounds in a year. (I did go down 2 pants sizes though. Go figure) Maybe one of these days I'll get it right. Just not in June.

2) Saw some live music. While drinking free beer. Bonus!

3) Went to the movies. Twice.

4) Finished a sprint triathlon and preparing for another.

5) Read my book.

6) Did not get to crafts. Its too nice out.

July....maybe all my goals should be outdoor endeavors?

STAINS

So, continuing with the theme of stains for this week: the cicadas are out in full force in Mashpee, through which I have to drive on the way to work. Which means...lots of splattering. Giant, yellowish beige stains on my windshield.

The cicadas are huge. On the ground, they look like extra long cockroaches. In the air, they look like small hummingbirds. They fly willy-nilly up and down, back and forth swooping through the air. It's very difficult to swerve and avoid the flying beasts.

What makes it worse is when they land just out of reach of the windshield wipers. Then their little bodies get cooked in the summer sun and become a giant summer stain on my windshield. I know its terrible to talk about a living creature in this way; "man, his death really ruined my day and made my jeep dirty". But what else am I to do? They are cruising around in swarms.

Clouds rolled in and its thundering tonight. Maybe the rain will wash the cicada stains away.

Yesterday I was out riding my bike and a van drove by me. It was a company van for one of those services that specializes in intense cleaning in homes. For instance, if there had been a fire or a flooded basement, this company would come and clean up the smoke damage or water damage or whatever. (for a hefty fee, I'm sure)

Anyway, on the side of this van were the following words: "specializing in damage from smoke * water * mold * mildew * blood".

Blood? Is that a common problem? A room that you just can't clean yourself because of the blood spatter pattern on the walls and ceiling? A floor so saturated from the spreading pool of blood that you know you'll never get it clean, especially if it dries before you can find a mop?

Something tells me that if you have giant, uncleanable blood stains scattered throughout your house, you have bigger problems to contend with than stain removal!

I'm just saying.

THE BIGGEST LOSER

So last nite I met some friends at an outdoor bar on the waterfront to go see our favorite band doing an accoustic show. Aside from the beautiful night (wonderfully mosquito free on the ocean) the balmy weather and the exquisite full moon, the music was great and the beer was free. (well, not free, I just didn't pay for any. 2 beers and a diet coke from 3 different people who INSISTED on buying. Hey, if you insist)

During one of the breaks, a band member walked over and was talking to us. What started out as small talk turned into a contest for who was, in fact, the biggest loser. I, of course, have the whole "I live in an apartment over my best friend's garage" thing going for me. So that trumped the "I had to trade my awesome truck in for a Scion because gas costs too much" and "I thought that guy was trying to pick me up, but it turns out he was waving to the girl standing behind me". However, tonight, I lost this bet. Guitar guy won with "I just got divorced, I live in my younger brother's house, and the only decoration in my one room is a poster of The Joker".

So even though I didn't buy any of my own drinks, I did have to buy a drink for the biggest loser of the night. Which is actually a good thing.

CHECK IN

I have been having so much fun in June. Which is great. Not so great for my June goals, though.

1) Eating plan...not so much. I'm still mucking around trying to figure out what I am trying to do. I got some sports nutrition books I'm reading, trying to get my plan in order. So there ya go.

2) Ok, what is the deal with not being able to find Revolution Within anywhere? (library, borders, barnes and noble, used book stores) So I have decided upon Outrageous Acts and Everyday Rebellions instead. Because I, for one, still think Gloria Steinem rocks! I got the book, I'm about 1/2 way thru.

3) Finished a sprint triathlon! I am smitten.

4) Going to the movies this weekend.

5) Haven't seen the live music yet. Maybe this weekend. or next.

6) Haven't opened the craft box yet. I'll get on it. I swear.

But if I don't, its because I'm too busy out having fun.

SUMMER LOVE (AGAIN)

I have just fallen in love. And his name is triathalon. I did my first sprint this weekend, and I am smitten!

BUGS ON THE WINDSHIELD

You know the saying that God never closes a door without opening a window? It gives hope to folks who are going through a hard time, in that it suggests that something good is bound to happen and things will eventually balance out.

Well, this week, I have started to believe that the reverse is true, as well. I've been having such a good, summery week, loving life and feeling like everything is fantastic. And then...I injure my shoulder while putting on a sports bra and then some therapy tubing snaps while I am working with a patient and it hits me in the eye, ripping my contact lens! COME ON!!

I guess the universe never puts the top down without splattering bugs on the windshield!

MOSQUITO SEASON IS HERE

It's official: Pollen season is over. Mosquito season has begun. A brand new batch has just hatched.

ONE YEAR AGO....

I was looking at my calender today, trying to get my summer plans in order. (the weekends are filling up quick) And what I noticed was...Bay to Breakers was about 3 1/2 weeks ago.

Which means: it's been just about one year since my very last phone call with M. The one where he said "I just don't have the energy or desire to put any more effort into this relationship", hung up, and never accepted another phone call or email from me again.

It's weird. I expected to feel sad and melancholy. Maybe start obsessing over "where the hell is my life going?" and "how did I get here?" But what I felt was...nothing. I just a kind of thought "hmmm".

I guess I'm just too caught up in summertime and working out and work and family stuff to really have any extra energy to devote to feeling sad. I guess that's a good thing.
HMMM....

SUMMER LOVE

I LOVE SUMMER!!

I woke up in a pool of sweat, the sheets sticking here and my hair sticking there and decided that there was no way I was going to work out inside a gym this morning. Since I didn't sleep well last night, I also decided that another half hour of sleep was a necessity.

So when I did get up, I somehow worked out inside anyway. I did a Pilates video, showered, wrote in my journal for about 15 minutes while I ate breakfast, and went off to work.

My absolute favorite way to drive to work is in a jeep with the top off, shades on, a bandana tied around my head in a hippie helmet, tunes cranked and singing at the top of my lungs. Work was busy, but productive. My patients all seem to actually be getting better, which is a good thing.

After work, I needed to go to Craigsville Beach and test the water. The water on the inner cape was sooo freaking cold this weekend that all I could do was jump in and jump out before it felt like my face was going to fall off my skull. I needed to know what the water was like at the beach the triathalon will be held at on Saturday. I hate swimming in a wet suit. But if the water was going to leave me unable to feel my arms or legs on the bike ride, a wetsuit I will wear. I NEEDED to know. Happily, the water on the outer cape is warm. No wetsuit will be needed. YEA!!!

The ride home tonite was even better than the ride out this morning. Top off, shades on, bandana on, tunes cranked, wearing nothing but a wet bathing suit and a smile.

I LOVE SUMMER!!!!

WEEKEND NOSTALGIA

This weekend I was busy from beginning to end with lots of family and friend things. On Friday, I went to my neice's dance recital and watched her tapdance to "Crocadile Rock", perform hip hop to "Shining Star" and do ballet to "She's got a Way". I was surprisingly impressed. After spending months watch her begin to show me her dance moves only to have her stop and say "Oh, no, wait. I messed up. Let me start over", I wasn't really expecting much. But they actually danced quite well together, they were in sync with one another, and nobody messed up and had to start over again. It's the first of her recitals I have been able to see.

On Saturday, I ran a bunch of errands, but finally got to the beach and saw some friends that I hadn't seen since last summer.

And today, I had breakfast with a friend who lives in Washington DC. We had some raspberry french toast and then walked along the waterfront and through town, commenting on what has changed in the past year. In the afternoon, I went to my friend's son's first birthday. It was pretty low key and casual but again, I got to be there and give a present in person rather than sending one through the mail. And in the evening, we all went out to dinner for my brother's 40th birthday. Nice. and scary that he is 40!

It was the perfect weekend, weatherwise, for me, though everyone else was complaining about how HOT it was. I loved it. It was great to take the top off the jeep and drive around and just hang with my family and friends.

I found it especially fitting that as I was driving home the windy way through the pine hills, the radio was playing songs from 10-15 years ago. Though I spent the first half of this year lamenting the fact that I somehow was at the same point in my life that I was at 10 years ago. But today, driving home with the top down, looking at the trees, and singing along with the Gin Blossoms, I felt so happy to be back home.

I don't know how I'll feel tomorrow. But for today, I can't imagine being happier anywhere else.

DOG DAYS

So today was the first day of the year that the temperature finally climbed above 90 degrees (its about time)and I had an endless amount of errands to run today. Amongst them, stop by my parents' house and take their dog, Sully, for a walk in the afternoon.

Sully is my father's pride and joy. If he were forced to decide whom he loved more, the dog or his grandchildren, I have a sneaking suspicion the grandchildren would collectively take second. And my dad is a guy who will put on princess garb and sing "Everybody wants to be a cat" just to get the kids laughing. So when I say Dad loves that dog, I mean, Dad loves that dog with the fierce intensity of the closest friend he's ever had.

Sully started out as my brother's dog. His girlfriend gave him a yellow lab puppy for his birthday one year. Later, my brother moved back in with my parents when he went back to school. Between driving up to college, studying, and working, he was never home. The bulk of the dog care fell on my dad. A year later, when my brother decided that an apartment closer to school made more sense, he was told: "Well, you can go. But you aren't taking the dog. He's staying." He didn't argue.

You see, just as my Dad loves that dog, Sully just adores my dad. Whenever Dad walks in the house, Sully has to be in the same room as him, preferrably right next to him, or even better, on top of him. He used to sleep on the floor with his head under my dad's side of the bed, before he got scared of going up the stairs. He's sat next to Dad during every playoff game of every sports team that Boston has to offer. He slept on the floor next to the sofa after my Dad had knee surgery a few years ago.

We had a different dog when I as little, whom my dad loved almost, but not quite, as much. My dad used to jog every night, back then in the 70's when nobody jogged. He wore those ridiculously heavy Nike sneakers like Forrest Gump when he pounded out 5 miles each night, accompanied by our adopted stray, Jake. When Jake died, (on the day of my high school graduation, how much does that suck?) Dad stopped jogging. From 5 miles a night every night to nothing. He just didn't want to jog without Jake.

Without jogging, over the course of the next 8 years or so, Dad put on about 40 pounds. The forty pounds came off in just about one year of walking Sully every day. The health of either one, Sully or Dad, could be determined by looking at the other. When Dad developed hypothyroidism and felt tired and sluggish all the time, the dog put on weight. When Sully developed some allergic reaction to some new dog food, Dad didn't sleep. Like husbands who have pseudo-pregnancies in sympathy for their pregnant wives, Dad and Sully felt one another's ailments. That is, until now.

Sull has been slowing down a bit over the past couple years. He has been getting recurrent ear and eye infections on his right side and then developed severe gingivitis on the right side, as well. It turns out, Sull has a tumor in his jaw on the right side, which has been causing all the ongoing infections. The vet took out all that she could in a minimally invasive procedure about 2 months ago, but my parents decided against a major surgery. There are inherent risks with major surgeries, and Sully is 13 years old. It just didn't seem to be worth it.

When I was driving over to my parent's house today, I thought that maybe I'd take Sully not for a walk, but to the beach instead. He's a lab -- he loves to swim and chase the birds (he always points before chasing them) and roll around in the sand. It'd be a good day for the both of us, and since it was so warm, I could give him a bath when we got back and he'd dry pretty quickly in the sun.

When I got to the house, I found out pretty quickly that THAT wasn't going to happen. I could barely get Sully out of the house, much less into the Jeep and certainly not for a drive. He's having trouble getting up and down the stairs. He likes to sleep all day in the air conditioned house. His face is starting to droop on the right and he rubs the side of his head against my thigh as if it hurts him. It breaks my heart to see him this way.

I finally got him out of the house and he did perk up. He pulled me in the direction of all the neighbors who have treats on hand for him. He stuck his head inside the mail truck to lick the mailman's hand and get a treat. He sat nicely and let a toddler hug him and pull his ears. He climbed inside a kiddie pool with a bunch of kids and let them dump buckets of water over his head. He even ran with me a little and chased a squirrel. We had a good walk.

I decided to forego the rest of my errands and my hope of hitting the beach in the late afternoon. I hung out in the finished basement of my parent's house with my Dad's dog and threw a beanie baby across the room over and over again. I made sure he didn't get lonely. I stayed until my parents came home so I could see the reunion of the two best friends, overjoyed to see each other again. As always.

RECOGNITION

So today at work we had something called the Spirit Awards. No, its not an award for the most productive poltergeist in the building. It's a day of recognition for people who go above and beyond the call of duty at work; people who exemplify the "spirit" of the hospital.

For all the hassles and bad days that we all have from time to time, it's nice to work for a place that actually does recognize when people take pride in a job well done. And what's really nice, is that I was NOMINATED by my supervisor! Wicked excellent.

I may be the most clueless person working there, since I didn't even know I was nominated until yesterday. "Didn't you read your email?" I was asked. Apparently not. I was wondering what people were congratulating me for.

So it was a lovely afternoon at work. A little ceremony, a flower, some finger food and mingling.

It would have been wise for me to NOT pick the salad for lunch that contained black beans, corn, and onions. It would have been nice if I didn't have to stand at the front of the room with all the other nominees, squeezing my butt cheeks together and praying that I could suck it back in. It would have been excellent if I didn't drop my pager on the floor and let out a miniscule squeak as I bent down to pick it up.

Luckily, a few minutes later I was upstaged. Somebody went into labor and had to scadaddle on out to a maternity ward. I think I need to give her a personal thank you note and a spirit award of her very own!

Unique, like everyone else

IF INDIVDUALITY HAS NO PLAY, SOCIETY DOES NOT ADVANCE; IF INDIVIDUALITY BREAKS OUT OF ALL BOUNDS, SOCIETY PERISHES ----Thomas Henry Huxley

Last Friday, I was lucky enough to spend the day in Newport, RI, with my friend, Adam. Lucky because it was a perfect, cloudless, 77 degree day; lucky for the great company; and lucky for the oportunity to walk along the cliff walk with the glorious scenic ocean view on one side and the glorious, ostentatious seaside mansion view on the other.

Upon passing one such abode (like the one that cost 11 million dollars to build in the 1890's) Adam remarked, "What would posses somebody to say: 'I need a 3 story 70 room summer cottage with stone turrets'?"

"Oh, Adam" I said, "this has nothing to do with NEED. Those houses are statements. They say: 'Look how much money I have.'"

As we continued along the cliff walk, I got to thinking about all the ways we make statements about ourselves. Of course, most of us don't have the means to do so with oceanside real estate, but we all find little ways of expressing our individuality every day.

Take, for instance the graduation party I went to on Sunday. It was filled with 17 year olds screaming out to the world I AM SOMEBODY UNIQUE with their Hollister and Abercombie T-shirts, their colored flip flops, and their cache of ring tones for their cell phones. One girl had cut the entire front panel of her jeans off, except for a thin strip just above her knee and another just below. It was like an elongated denim film strip depicting the anterior portion of her leg.

At our picnic table, the graduate's Grammy and Bumpa were discussing Saturday's graduation ceremony. "There was one girl there with bright pink hair. It looked just awful. Her parents must have been mortified!"

"Are you kidding?" I asked. "That's fantastic! I don't even know her and I like her."

"Oh, no", Grammy replied. " She's going to look back on those pictures and cringe. And how do you get a job in the workforce with pink hair?"

"I disagree. I think she's going to look back and say 'Look at how cool I was.' And what 17 year old enters 'the workforce'? I say, now is the time to do it"

Now, I AM in the workforce, so if I want pink hair it has to be a bit more subtle. And we have company shirts, so no Abercrombie for us. Yet somehow everyone still manages to project their identity: the Mom, the ultra-marathoner, the golfer, the drum circle guy, the scrapbooker. We do so in the way we carry ourselves, what we talk about with our patients, the treatment techniques we gravitate toward. Even what we choose to have for lunch makes a statement: "Have you tried the terragon/ carrot soup?" "Oh, no. I only like real food: steak."

So how much of this is our true identity peaking out, and how much is our attempt to project a particular image to the world? And is there really a difference between the two?

I'm not really sure of the answer to that question. And frankly, it may take less time to save enough money to buy a 70 room seaside mansion than it does to figure out the answer. So instead, I'm just gonna throw on a tie dye shirt, grab my ipod of cool tunes, and head out for a roller blade. The world is waiting for my statement.

JUNE-BUG

It is already June, and it feels like I just turned off the heat. Probably because I just turned off the heat. But that's the way things roll around here: no spring to speak of, just cold and rainy and then all of a sudden, its summer. It never feels right.

The tree pollen is in full swing, which means each and every day I need to wipe down everything in my apartment since its all yellow. Contacts are sticky sticky sticky. And I am exhausted.

Since May turned out to be not such a good month in follow thru, I almost bagged the whole idea for June. But I did eventually get motivated and came up with a few more goals to strive for:

1) For 30 days: I will stick to a non lo carb eating plan. (I guess that's 27 days, now) Since I fell off the eating right wagon, I've been feeling bloated and yucky. not a good way to start the summer.

2) I will read "Revolution Within". I know, I said I'd do that last month, but I really will get to it this month.

3) I will complete a sprint triathalon. Since I have been so wishy washy about my workouts lately, I fear I will come in last after the 78 year old man with arthritis and the 320 pound lady who is celebrating losing 50 on weight watchers.

4) Really go to the movies!

5) See some live music. Somewhere. With someone.

6) 3 projects from the crafts box. Really.

Ok, wake up for June!!

HELLO SUMMER

What can I say about May? I was away alot. Work was busy. I did just about nothing on my list. But I suppose its better to be out living life than inside blogging about it.

1) Journaling: did about 15 days or so. But doing a little more regularly with pen and paper than with keyboard. I'll call it a half victory.

2) Read: The Late Bloomer's Revolution. Also on my list to read, just not what I said I'd read in May. So Iguess I'll do May's in June. I'll give myself a high five.

3) Took that class. On traveling on the cheap. Good class for me. Total victory on that one.

4) Ok, did not go to a movie. But I got movie passes that expire this month, so I really gotta get my ass in gear. Wouldn't it be nice to meet somebody new to use those passes with?

5) Clothes switch, complete. In the last weekend in May, good gosh!

6) Did nothing on the projects!!

7) Swam a mile in a pool, dipped my foot in the ocean. NOthing else. And with a triathalon coming up in 2 weeks, I gotta go jump in!

June, lets get cooking!