I received a wall post on Facebook this morning reminding me that I had not blogged in a long time. Goodness, yes, it's true! And I'm very sorry to disappoint my staggering Blogger followers that total.....20. That, and a smattering of Facebook fans equals my "fan base" but hey, it's a fan base nonetheless and so I shall not disappoint. My apologies for being remiss! (What does that even mean? Wait a sec while I look it up on dictionary.com. OH! It means "negligent, careless or slow in one's duty". See? It's perfect. I have a way with words, even if I don't know their exact meaning from time to time!)
Today it's hot and sweaty. Well, I'm hot and sweaty and it's sunny and 80 ish. And, in true Seattle fashion, the sky is cloudless and stunningly blue and the green trees pop and it just looks like the perfect place to live. As much as I love it, though, I am not being fooled. I know what it's like most of the time here. But a sunny day in Seattle is like the amnesia that sets in moments after a mother gives birth, causing her to think she might just do this little shenanigan filled with blood, sweat and terror one more time. One sunny day in Seattle and we're all gaga over it saying it's "God's country" and all that. I refuse to be sucked in. But I'm enjoying it just the same. Except the sweaty part. I hate sweating.
Currently I'm starving and not expecting to eat dinner until sometime after 8 when we will meet some friends of Jeff's downtown for dinner at Cutters. Which, hey, who wouldn't be excited for that? Dinner at an excellent seafood establishment on the waterfront? But refer back to the "starving" part. I've had this today: a glass of Ovaltine with a little protein powder thrown in for good measure (I was heading to yoga), a tall, decaf, nonfat iced mocha and a ham and swiss panini sandwich at Starbucks, and a cup of frozen yogurt (with some Reese's peanut butter cups tossed on top to negate any healthy aspect of fro-yo). That's all and it's been three hours since that indulgence and now I'm starving!!! I don't want to eat and ruin my dinner but.....something's gotta give.
This week has been good. Monday morning I woke up in a glorious bed and breakfast with the sun streaming through my windows, so, hey, how's that for the start to a great week? In addition I'm "kid free" this week, which is technically true because all persons under 18 have vacated the premises for a week, but the newly minted adult is still here leaving dirty dishes all over and barging in at odd hours. Still. On Tuesday I got to watch my rock star son perform with his band. Nothing like watching the pre-pubescent set perform "Slow Ride", a song about sexual exploits. For the record, their band coach told them it's about driving slow in a car. Um yeah, they have the internet remember? Yikes. But he rocked it out so we'll just be happy about that and forget about the inapropo lyrics.
Did you see that? How I just used abrevs? Do you know what abrevs are? Yes, you do, if you are under 20. Or a tragically hip momster like me! How totes awk is that, kids? Supes cool, if you ask me. Whatevs.
My super studly husband participated in TWO races this week. Not one, but two. One was called a "quadrathon". This involves swimming, biking, running and paddling a kayak. For a mile. A MILE! Never mind you just did a triathlon. Now, paddle a kayak for a mile, and THEN smile because you're still alive. I fail to understand these endurance sports. They amaze me. I, in the way only I can do best, clapped and cheered for him. I'm a champion at clapping and cheering. And taking photos to commemorate the event. Oh, and he suffered an injury! This has never happened at a race before. But he fell on his bike, in the rain, going around a corner and left a sizable chunk of his right knee on the asphalt. In return, the asphalt left him seriously large patches of road rash on his entire right shin, his elbow and one ass cheek. But can I just say how grossly amazing he was running and kayaking with a river of blood running down his leg? Ew. (P.S. He placed second in his age group. Woot!).
The second race was last night. He was very casual about it. It involved a swim and a run. A duathlon, albeit untraditional, because normally a duathlon involves biking and running. This one had a twist and Jeff was excited to do something new. However, his cavalier attitude about it resulted in him not checking the details so that at 5:40 p.m. I was online checking the race details and found out the swim start was at 6:20! On Mercer Island! In rush hour traffic! Over 40 minutes away on a good day! So, we dashed out the door. On the way there, he insisted I retrieve his swim goggles and cap from his race bag so he could "be ready". In the end, we pulled into the parking lot and he grabbed his race bag and ran off, leaving the car running with an empty driver's seat. Okay.....I jumped in the driver's seat and spent the next half hour looking for a place to park. Which turned out to be the park and ride a half mile away. And when I parked, I noticed his swim cap and goggles still in the car. Crap. Long story short, I never caught up with him, he apparently ran straight from the car into the water, stopping only long enough to offload his race bag. He did not get his race number, nor his timing chip. So, essentially, he was a race hijacker (although he did pre-pay for it) and ended up dashing across the finish line untimed, unchipped, and very unofficial. I arrived in time to snap a picture. What a cluster.
So, that's my week so far. The weekend looms with possibility, although Mr. Late to the Race seems to be filling his with boring stuff like meetings and scary stuff like fishing for salmon in the sound in his kayak. So, I will explore some other, tamer options. Like, perhaps working on my tan, or doing some retail therapy. Or maybe watching a marathon of horrifying shows like "Dance Moms" and "Toddlers in Tiaras". Who knows? The kid-free days are not over yet! Bring on the me time!