three goals, ninetynine days and counting.

at the end of february twothousand eleven, di and i were walking from the theaters at yerba buena downtown. we had just passed mel's diner and i blurted out, "i'm making some goals, di... something tells me things are gonna be rough around these parts and i've gotta keep myself going. i've got three." she oooed and awwwed like she always does (good friend) and thought my goals were totally accomplishable. i've been hesitant to share them with you because it means i'm accountable to a lot more people than just di.

but today brings the days left from three digits to two... ninetynine days until they're due.

i gave myself threehundred and sixtyfive days to accomplish the following:

one- run another marathon. (completed on july 31! yahoo.)

two- pass my first (of two) mft exams. (gerry grossman, eat your heart out.)

three- sing a song in public. (song and venue chosen, exact date tbd. still practicing.)

there ya go. in writing, on the Internet, pressure's on. ready, go.

it's time to put my money where my mouth is.

and let my yes be yes and my no be no and really, i mean, really following through because more than anything, i need to stop torturing my friends. i'm making my clean getaway and because of it, maria taylor's song is stuck in my head:

I made my place by the door.
I didn't know what I was waiting for.
Felt just like home.
Except no grass, no yard, no pictures.

I could see across to the park.
And there were friends, they were laughing hard.
They looked just like my home.
With no face, no name, no voice I'd know.

I finally made it.
I made a clean getaway.
I finally made it.
I made a clean getaway.

I met someone at the bar.
He had a great smile and a great heart.
He felt just like love.
Except no fear of losing, and it wasn't tough.

I finally made it.
I made a clean getaway.
I finally made it.
I made a clean getaway.
And I miss you,
I miss you every single day.

twothousand twelve is going to be completely different... i mean, i hope to still find nerds in my keyboard at work, but it should just be less Crazy. that's what we're going for Party People: a little bit less Crazy. who's with me?!

it's the hap, happiest day of the year.

ELECTION DAY! hope you got your vote on.

wise wise words.

"it's not that you don't know what you want, emily. it's that you don't know what you deserve."

so i'm working on that... thinking about what i deserve and how i got to the place where i believe in half-assed relationships and constantly lowering my expectations. no good, no no good.

on a lighter note: i think if you get subpoenaed it should be license to purchase a new outfit. right? hello, law and order debut!

back in the saddle.

sometimes my roommates refer to a return-to-cycling-after-some-time-away as getting back in the saddle. when they do this, i feel a bit left out. there isn't a saddle with running... it's just me and some shoes. the phrase doesn't apply.

whatever. on saturday i felt like i was getting back in the saddle... the first long run since july thirtyfirst and i remembered all the good things about the way the process makes me feel: it's as if i'm achieving something, making it and moving forward. i feel empowered when i run. i get a little bit crazy and believe that i can do anything.

and as i think about this more, i've decided that i'm not going to get off the saddle (is it okay that i keep going with this?). my jobs are starting to settle, my feet are healthy again and my heart and mind aren't as crazy as they used to be.

there's no reason for a break, no reason at all. giddyup!