a memory

running this morning through williamsburg, a school bus passed me, the door open and a woman leaning into the bus talking with the driver, a memory came up:

i never took the late bus.

what does this mean?

in my high school, you got out at 2:56. you hustled to your locker, got your books you needed, sweater, and headed for the bus. if you were late (they left about 10 minutes later or so), you had to call your mom or walk home. most days, i ended up just staying for track, so i would get done with that around 4:30 or so.

but sometimes, in between track season or when i didn't have play practice or a club meeting, maybe i'd hang out in the yearbook room chatting. i'd wait until 4:05, just after the late bus left.

"you JUST missed the late bus! cher, you NEVER take the late bus."

and there was a reason. that's where kids got beat up, and the really mean people who taunted me took it. i was afraid to take it.

i hated high school. my memories still cause me to shudder...

it's hard to believe how much pain another person could cause you, but high school is full of pain. i don't look back. it's no wonder i'm not in touch with anyone from my high school, save my sister.

something to help you pass the weekend

why i could never be a right-winger: the things they say are so insipid and irrelevant that they are hilarious!

a war monger at saturday's anti-war protest (to a passing cyclist): that's right, keep on biking like the good communist you are.

what!??!?!

tired...running

i just came home from a 20 miler not too long ago. i haven't run 20 miles since before jay (and at jay i did 33 miles)--so it's been a month and a half since i've done any runs longer than 16 miles. i'm not sure what it was today, but i had SUCH a tough run today. mentally, i was so not ready, though i was excited. however, i got dizzy, had stomach issues. running around downtown nyc, past the artists and the stockbrokers and the hippies and the tourists and the lovers and the kids playing catch and the grandmas smoking tiny cigarettes and people eating delicious avocado sandwiches...i tried so hard to appreciate everything, but it was so hard. i ended up making lists in my head of good things about nyc, and practicing tonglen so i wouldn't suffer in my misery. but oh, how hard. i need to get back into it. i have a marathon in a month and a half, and an ultra, oh, sometime in nov or dec.

yay

i just registered for the boston marathon!

enough said

how things really are

"what have you been up to?"

it's nice to see friends you haven't seen in a while, but i hate seeing people i haven't seen in a while and they ask, "so what have you been up to?" they expect a real solid answer: "well, i got married, got my phd, gave birth to three children, am now a goat farmer subsisting on soy protein and carrots." my answer is much more boring than that. "not much. working at a women's nonprofit as a librarian, running."

"that's it?"

what do they want from me? i'm living, struggling to do my thing day to day. mondays, if i'm able, i head to yoga after work (and i work 9-530, at least, so it's not like i have loads of free time). tuesdays, running class. wednesdays, radical cheerleading. thursdays, dinner with friends, shows, whatever's going on. fridays, well, that's up in the air. saturday mornings, long runs, several hours long. sundays, races. a lot of it is running, and that never seems like an acceptable answer. people don't care about running. i do, and my running friends do. but sometimes, my real answer seems too boring for them.

summer is coming to a close

and i am filled with sadness.