I've Done the Calculation and Your Chances of Winning the Lottery Are Identical Whether You Play or Not f. lebowitz

Pre-Marathon

First off, I want to thank those of you who wished me well for my inaugural marathon run this past Sunday, April 5. The generous support I received has been overwhelming! It is also much appreciated.

Me

I have to say, I loved, loved, loved every minute of that run even when at mile 22 my feet began to cramp. I never did hit that infamous "wall" marathoners talk about, so I was more than happy with that. It was amazing. I can think of no other word for how I felt crossing that finish line.

My running partner and I at mile 19

A huge shout-out to the husband. His love and support throughout these past 5-months was absolutely incredible and I could not have done this without him. On numerous occasions, he was my personal Sherpa on my long training runs riding his bike by my side encouraging me on and keeping me hydrated as well as Gu loaded. During the marathon he selflessly carried a camera (and took 350 photos!), sport drinks, waters and Gu as well as jackets and warm clothes for the wind and cold the entire 26.2-miles for my friends and me. Dallas had 27 mile-per-hour winds the entire run with gusts up to 40 miles-per-hour. That wasn't right (yes, it sounds just as bad as it was). But the husband was by my side for most of the run. If my friends fell back for a bit, he slowed to bike next to them and they were so very thankful for that He's such a good soul. A few other racing friends and their wives came to bike it too despite the cold. I have fantastic friends! It was all just . . . amazing. . . !

My domestiques - as well as the husband and I at mile 22 (x2)

Finally, I have to confess, I bawled as the husband hugged me coming across the finish line and then I bawled all over again when one of our honored hero's came up to hug me while I was signing out at the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's tent. . . Everything was so surreal for some time after finishing. I couldn't keep any of my tears in check. It was great to finish! I'll be signing up again with Team in Training in 2-weeks time to run the Nike San Francisco Marathon this coming October. I've got to do at least one more. . .

Arriving at the finish line
5:19:21

Me at 26.2-miles

Celebrating 26.2!

Quick physical update: I'm up and moving about, if even a bit more slowly than usual. Everything has been checking out okay and I'm not curled up in a fetal position. The only injury I sustained thus far has been a tiny blister on the tip of my third toe on my right foot. So far, this blister has not been debilitating. I am exhausted, but that took until Tuesday to hit me. I believe adrenaline kept me moving and grooving these past few days. Now I'm ready to sleep. All this to say, I'm good and feeling sweet; just going to hit the pillows.

Once again, thank you all. I hope to someday repay such generosity to each and every one of you.


“Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.” ~ Lance Armstrong

Be Humble for You Are Made of Dung. Be Noble for You Are Made of Stars. serbian proverb

I woke up to dog puke today. That was lovely. I wonder if that is indicative of my day or even my week?

Speaking of days and week, exactly one week from today is my 1st ever marathon run. To say the least, I'm a bit nervous. Not worried like my two running partners who have both been having nightmares. One dreamed I showed up to the marathon with a broken foot. She said she cried.

I need to make mention here that later the same day, in real life, I slammed my foot in my car door. Yes, I am that talented. It's bruised, but not broken. I told her not to tell me her dreams of horror anymore as apparently I'm now obsessing. I wasn't worried about breaking my foot, but now it seems I kick the wall when just casually strolling by it. So, while I'm not having the bad dreams, I am a bit apprehensive, as in, "if I think about the marathon my stomach gets 1,000 butterflies." I think that's a type of anxiety. Isn't it? If not, then it's just confirming I'm a loon. I usually force myself to take a deep breath to try and shake off those winged critters. Eventually, I'm pretty sure that the beautiful butterflies will turn into nervous poo'ing. I'm not really looking forward to that. Unless, of course, that causes me to lose 50-pounds. . . .

Nervousness and its poo aside, I am really looking forward to it! I've trained hard for this and I deserve to finish. And that's all I am really asking for. To finish. Besides, there are people out there going through so much more than I ever want to imagine or know. "Think training is hard? Try chemo." It's a quote that has kept me moving these past 6-months. Yet, it is my hope you nor I ever have to.

Wish me luck. It's something I'm going to need, well, that is if I don't break my foot first.

Looking Into the Soul of the Dog Sitting Next to Me

So, I'm cheating. I know most of my FB friends have read this, as it was a "tag" thing on FB, but until I actually have some time to sit and write again, this "cheating repeat" will have to do. It took me all day to compose the damn thing and that has to count for something when time is a luxury I don't have these days. Right? My sincere apologies to those of you who must read this twice. At least you know I'm still breathing in my Longhorn City.

Barely.

Anyhow, let us get to it. Twenty-five Randomocities about me:

1. I deeply, deeply love and adore my husband. His heart, soul & mind are bigger than anyone's I've ever met. He loves me back unconditionally - including my idiosyncrasies, faults and happy's. It still amazes me. I've never experienced that from anyone but family previously.

2. The husband laughs with me & at me daily. It keeps me grounded.

3. I also wear my pearls &/or sparkly's on a daily basis. Why keep something so beautiful in a box?

4. I love, love, LOVE to drive fast (but only if I'm the driver)! Then again, I am a total car freak. . . . I don't drive the husbands car b/c of this. I found myself driving over 180 mph down the toll-way once. That cured me of that car - not the speed, but the pure power of speed and what it can do.

5. I've learned (over the years) not to trust too many people. I used to love everyone. Not everyone loves you back - friendship or otherwise. That's a very hard lesson to learn.

6. I have a blog, which is where you'd find most of all this list of information already previously written & published.

7. I am a total goofball!

8. I love vodka, wine and cupcakes. Not necessarily in that order. And, never too much of any one or the other unless it's wine, cupcakes or vodka. Wait. What?

9. Since I was 5-years-old, I only ever wanted to be a veterinarian. My mom took me to talk to one about becoming a vet and how to achieve that goal when I was 12. He told me I'd never, ever be able to do it. I believed him. I gave up my dream from that day forth. I regret that I never tried.

10. I am currently training to run my first marathon with Team In Training for April 5th, 2009. I'm not crazy. If you think training is hard, try chemo (though, it is my hope you nor I will ever have to).

11. My hobby is cooking. This makes Williams-Sonoma my absolute most favorite store in the whole wide world!

12. I abhor clothes shopping. I'd pay to have someone do that for me. I'm such a non-girlie girl! But I do heart stilettos and makeup. So, I actually am a girlie-girl!

13. I've had to learn to say no to animal rescues, but it still breaks my heart each and every time to do so. Six four-legged furries in one house is more than enough. It gives me plenty of story fodder though!

14. I adore, respect, love, cherish & look up to my little sister and her husband more than they will ever know or comprehend. They are hardworking, kind, loving and generous souls who encompass wisdom beyond their years. I wish you all could know them too.

15. I miss my family immensely. As much as I love our Longhorn City, Texas, I wish I lived closer to them.

16. I believe in angels and demons. I also think I heart zombie's, vampire's, lycan's and ghost's far more than any normal human being ought to. . . . Uh-huh! They are to real! As are aliens.

17. I try to remind myself daily that in the end, it's not between you and me, but between God and me.

18. I've never been in a fight that I didn't ask for (aka: kickboxing, karate, jujitsu or boxing lessons). I'll continue to say till the day I die that being Amazonian has its perks. . . .

19. I am terrified of spiders. They are evil, vile beastly creatures.

20. I'm naturally blonde. Dark blonde, but blonde nonetheless. Obviously, I dye my locks.

21. I've tried to read, "Skinny Bitch" on three different occasions over 1.5 years, but I didn't like a book yelling at me or telling me how effing stoopid I was. I also eat a little meat now and then, but only meat that has been organically and humanely grown. I tried to give it up a few years ago and only made it 2-years. I really love steak too much.

22. I can't watch Animal Cops or anything related to animal cruelty (this includes Sarah McLachlan's advertisement of beaten, abused and neglected animals), because I start crying each and every time. The husband will change the channel for me/us - he can't take it either. I used to think I only felt this way about animals until I watched a show on St. Judes Children's Hospital. The husband, once again, gently reminded me to change the channel and when I couldn't move to do so, he did it for me. Cancer is evil. Beating animals is just as evil.

23. I seriously have bad hearing. Take, for example, this conversation that the husband and I had once upon a time:
me: how was your ride?
the husband: I got to potty-train. . .
me: *???*
me: . . . . you got to potty-train? Huh?
the husband: I. got. to. potty-train. . .
me: you have to potty-train? Whut. . . . ? *[blink, blink]
the husband: I! Got! Stuck! By! A! Train!
me: oh.
the husband: yeah. You and your bad hearing.

24. I don't debate religion or politics. Especially when wine is added (lesson learned)! I have mine. You have yours. Lets leave it at that.

25. Having Reef Sharks as well as Nurse Sharks swim around you, under you and over you is unexplainable, amazing and somewhat anxiety producing. No, we were not in a "cage". We were free diving in these parts. Besides, I always thought Nurse Sharks were like big Labrador puppies - always sleeping on the ocean floor. Seemed harmless enough. It is a bit different when they are swimming around you. Add in some Reef Sharks and you have yourself a mighty fine time with a bit of a fast heartbeat. Do you think sharks can sense fear?


That is all.

Merry, Merry and Happy, Happy

Hmpf. Humans. I am Chobie.

Happy Christmas & Merry Holidays to all y'all! 

The husband is working for most of the night this evening. I'll be baking a coconut creme pie. From scratch. Then I'll be DVD'ing it with wine and, if I wish hard enough, maybe someone in a red fuzzy hat with matching suit and a belly that can shake it like a bowl full of jelly will bring me cupcakes!  

The husband will also be working Christmas day. I'll be at the zoo wishing all the critters who are far from home a very merry!  Then I'll be cooking a leetol bit for our Christmas dinner. . . . .

May you and yours find all the holiday cheer you want! 

Christmas Comes But Once a Year

Looking up

Yep. That is the husbands and my festivus for the restuvus. Vindi, veci, vassa! Or is it veni, vedi, vici? Pfffft. Latin. I should maybe think about sticking to my own language. One I haven't mastered, obviously, but at least understand. 

In any case, I have to say I am so very excited for Christmas this year. So much so that you would think that I am 5-years-old again waiting for Santa to come down the chimney to bring me all that which was built by elves! And some gum. Or vodka. Or cupcakes. Maybe all of the above?  Really, I'm not choosey. 

. . . .And. . . . I'm finished. I'll let you guess as to what is finished. 

Do you hear what I hear?

Bienvenue au Canada

Auberge du Vieux-Port
Me looking out our 4th floor window

The taxi the husband and I took from the airport drove through the city completely avoiding the highways. Curious as to why and thinking aloud in a whisper, "maybe he thinks as vacationing tourists we want to see the beauty of Montreal?" While glancing at my watch, I see that it's the middle of rush hour. Mr. Cab Driver had more practical ideas as to why he drove us though captivating neighborhoods instead of efficient highways. Me and my romanticism - the husband just smiled. After some time, we arrived at Auberge du Vieux-Port. It took my breath away. The room was even more intimately alluring. If it is even possible, I fell more in love with the husband while stepping into our room for the next three days.

Finally, I can't resist sharing a bit of history regarding Auberge du Vieux-Port. Rumor has it that Auberge is where "Suzanne" took Leonard Cohen to her loft by the river and fed him oranges and tea "that came all the way from China". Suzanne is actually dancer Suzanne Verdal who is no longer alive, but left immortal due to Cohen's love song of the same name. A precious relationship which produced a highly acclaimed piece of art. And also took me back to many memories growing up in a household that played Leonard's music during family dinners, parties and anytime the TV was off.

So far it was a fantastic start to our much needed vacation.

. . . more pictures to come . . .

I've Got a Clue So I'm Sticking With You

If you were a hug, I'd be a kiss

Happy 4th Anniversary
I love you

It's Hard Enough To Find Your Way Around Chinatown

P.S. I threw the black bean sopa down the disposal.

I went mountain biking for 2-hours with the husband and another couple today. I did not break my face.

Although, you could have wrung me out like a soaking wet washcloth a few times and then some. The weather channel said it's 103-degree Fahrenheit here in our Longhorn City, but the heat index said it actually feels like 107 outside. I gotta tell you - it does. For serious.

Two-Faced

A sentence about "The Dark Knight":

It should be tonight's entertainment. "You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villian. . . . "

Okay, that was actually 2 sentences. Who's counting when even Rotten Tomatoes gives it a 94% fresh? It was more than just entertaining! It was yummy! I can't even get into Heath Ledger's portrayal. He was full of delectable evil. Then again, each one of the characters in this flick added more than their names to it. It is a must see.

Fantastic!

By Fixing It, I Mean, Don't Be Making Up Days of the Week

So. Many of you have asked how my first day/week of massage therapy decided to go for me. In short, it went very well despite the fact that my very first massage client "no showed" on me. Yeah, they did. How nice is that? I was somewhat nervous (read: very), but in the end, it turned out to not be such a bad thing as it calmed me down for my next "official" appointment. I'm weird like that. I also, along the way got edumacated in a few things in the way of massage therapy.

The few lessons I've learned this past week include the fact, most importantly, that you just cannot please them all. Sometimes you are damned if you do and in the same breath damned if you do not. Just go forward and do the best that you can. I now completely understand how the husband feels on a daily basis. You try hard as well as think you do the right/best thing for people. Usually, they will turn right around and bite you in the a** if they can. People are weird, but they are just not worth what leetol sanity you may be clinging onto in this big ole world of ours.

Secondly, I learned that I can give a very, very, very, very deep massage. I did not think it possible that I could go deeper than I already do, but having the most fantastic husband on earth has its benefits. He has been my ever faithful "practice mannequin." And once again, he didn't let me down when I came home telling the tale of someone saying I did not go deep enough. Um. Ow. Please tell me in the session where I can do something about it - not after when I cannot do a thing to fix it for you. End lesson.

Anyway, in the same sentence, I made the husband jump on my massage table to dig my elbows, thumbs and forearms into his fantastically yummy bicycle racing body. My goal was to make him jump from pain. Yes, on purpose. I needed to know how deep was too deep. I'm not a big meannie to the husband. I am a scholar not a hater. I need to know this bit of important information. But . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the husband feel asleep. Hard REM sleep. Not to be discouraged, I kept on working deep in the tissues of all that I know is the husband. He never jumped. He never woke up. But(!) I learned that I can give a very, very, very, very deep massage, because, I was very, very, very, very deep into the husbands bodily tissues.

Thirdly, ice is my friend. My very best friend.

Which leads me to my fourth and final lesson of the week, I can give three deep massages in one day. And, if it were certain that I could have two more clients who only wanted light therapy, you can be sure that I would be doing five massages in one day. I only give two right now with practice on the husband. This is equivalent to me weightlifting for two to three hours daily. I would sign up for more clients; however, unfortunately, you never know what flavor you are going to get booked with. The front desk tries their best to schedule accordingly, but if a light massage therapist is full and I have an opening, I am going to get that light client. I am completely okay with this as I am a deep massage therapist and having a break from deep would be graciously welcomed in my world. It is entirely possible to get five or more deep massages in one day if I were to open my schedule for that many sessions. Which would absolutely and undeniably kill me. It would. I'm not even being my usual drama queen self. I. Would. Just. Die.

I start up classwork again on Tuesday. Our Advanced Clinical Massage class is still going strong. Kinesiology and Pathology will be the newest classroom additions. Advanced Business and Ethics will be joining soon. I've also signed up to do two massages as soon as class is finished each day. My days will now be getting a bit longer.

And, to think, I am tired now. . . . .

If all ya'll don't hear from me much, it is because my cute little fingers can't lift themselves to type.




I have seven massages therapy sessions down. . . . . only ninety-three more to go. . . .

Put Your Hands Down Will You, You're Embarrassing Us i. jones, jr.

I've waited almost 20-years. . . .

I'm glad I did!

I Like to Think of Jesus as a Mischievous Badger cal naughton, jr.

The massage school I have been attending for almost the past 3 months has deemed it safe for me to start placing my magic hands on the public. Today is the day I begin that journey. In fact, I'm booked for my time today.

Wish me luck. Or my future clients luck. Whatever suits your fancy.

Cloak-and-Dagger

In case you hadn't noticed, I'm indisposed and will be even more so over the coming weekend . . . . more later.

In the meantime, because someone asked nicely,
here are a few photo's from the past week:

Opening a couple of birfday gifts.

Jen, this is your life.
One of the best gifts ever
was received when I opened this scrapbook made by my mom & dad.
[Can someone explain why one of my nicknames in the 1980's was Hair?
I just can't imagine.]


Lastly, things that make you go, "hmmm"?

I hope all ya'll have a super-fab weekend! . . . . .Definitely don't forget your mom's. If your mom is like my mom, then your mom rawks! Hugs to all the mom's out there. If you're interested, here's my tribute to my mom from last year. A new one will be forthcoming, but not until after this weekend.

You Look Like a Monkey & You Smell Like One Too

It's my birfday and I'm going to eat macaroni & cheese.

You Can't Handle The Truth Behind The Fence

Overheard today by the husband and me while we were bird seeding the feeders as well as on poo patrol:

7-year-old friend of next door neighbor kid: I had surgery on my balls. ***completely stated as a matter of every day fact***
neighbor kid: ewwwwww.
the husband and I: ***uncontrollable snickering***

*************

7-year-old friend of next door neighbor kid: who wants to see my big fat butt?
neighbor kid: Ido!

Kids are funny. I think if I had the time and if it wasn't almost 90-melting-degrees outside; I would have sat out there all afternoon obtaining free entertainment provided by the children next door. Who wants to pass up free laughter? These totally made my day.

I Know I'm A Handful

Want to know what is one of life's greatest little treasures?

Finding and reuniting with old very dear friends. I won't lose you this time around. Promise. I'll get rid of all my stilettos before it happens again.

All ya'll know who you are. I want to say thank you for having the patience to put up with me losing you in the first place. My solemn vow is to not do that again.

The Secret of Happiness is To Make Others Believe They Are The Cause of It ~ al batt ~

Right. I've been systematically Mrs. Grumpy McGrumpster-Pants on my last few posts here and, in thinking about it, that really isn't like me. It doesn't feel right on the insides either. My whole entire self-being is affected and that makes me even worse off than I was just being cranky.

So, like a duck, I'm just going to shake off my tired cranky pants and . . . . . . wait . . . . . .or is it a dog that shakes off fleas?

Whatever it may be that animals do in shaking the tree, I think I have a post here that will make you smile. Maybe. At least I hope it will. Without further ado. . . .

I made lunch for myself today. The husband is working; I'm not trying to not feed him as he doesn't need to become more and more like Skeletor each and every day that he is. He's not here, so I can't feed the masses. And, no, the husband is not "The Evil Lord of Destruction" or from another dimension either - he's a bike racer. Which qualifies him as a skinny leetol rascal; like Skeletor. Okay?

Digression is a disease of which I'll never be quite cured of. . . . .

Anyway, I made me a sandwich. And you need to understand that my sandwiches are usually elaborate, because I love my veggies, herbs and mustard between two pieces of bread. I'm good at creating melty-mouth sandwich goodness, but keeping it real. I am. You know, for health purposes. Since I'm not a huge mayo fan, I don't use it much, if at all. I like my heart. I like me. I like my life. I'd like to be around here for another decade or two. Vegetables can offer more flavor-flave than mayo can and . . . . .

I am not digressing!

Pfffft. Whatever.

As I was saying. . . . I've even put cold green beans and asparagus on my sandwiches. Those were go-ooood.

But today, as I was putting my sandwich together with mustard and turkey - thinking of all the fixings I was going to tackle - when I stopped and looked at my bag of potato chips*. . . . . . . I got a fleeting thought and grabbed onto it. . . . . . .

Where I then proceeded to mash them into my turkey sandwich with the crush of double fiber wheat bread under my palm.

I haven't done that since I was a wee kid. It made me unbelievably happy! I even smiled the whole way through my sandwich thinking of the days when my mom made us sandwiches and then we'd crush potato chips into them. My sandwich today wasn't as good as when I remembered as a kid, but it made me remember some happy times. We'd sing at lunch - "Yellow Submarine" was a popular tune back then. We'd babble on and on about a whole lot of nothing. I loved being with my mom and bringing her buckets of worms I'd dug up and out of the forest. She wasn't fond of them, but she never told me that nor did she ever mention not to bring her buckets of worms. She used to take us to the forest to draw. I'd eventually wander off to go catch her some more worms of wonder. We'd come back and eat sandwiches. I was so little. I was such a happy-go-lucky kid.

Come to think of it, I miss those times. If my mom lived in my state or I in hers, I'd bring her a bucket of worms.





What haven't you done since you were a wee one? Do you miss it?

**********************************************************************

*Um. . . . . So, my chips aren't really chips. They're "Baked Ruffle Cheddar & Sour Cream" flavored pieces of cardboard. I can't totally eat like I was 7-years-old even if my knee looks like I am 7-years-old (yep. Still healing from my bike crash from back in the day. Want a picture?) Baked chips. Hmmm. Must. Watch. Waistline.

Was this cheating on feeling like a kid again?

Stepping In That Thing We Call Love

Words that every woman wants to hear sincerely uttered from their lover, partner, sweetheart, beloved and/or true love:

"You look beautiful today."

Especially, when they murmur it unexpectedly on the day you have chosen not to wear a single drop of makeup.

Because That's How I Roll

Weekend Round-up:

• Found out that my right lower leg grew to be the size of elephantitis that was accompanied by some nice pretty red itchy splotches and a rash that grew down to my ankle with some hot-pain not because of taking myself out on my very own bike where I then reduced my knee to chopped beef-steak. No, this was not due to that. It was due to the allergic reaction I had to the tape that held on my bandages.

• I am now using hospital tape that pulls my skin off every single day when I change my bandaging. It feels really swell, but at least I avoided antibiotics, allergic reactions and infection. Thankyouverymuch.

• 5-hours into doing the husbands and my taxes I had a Chernobyl size melt-down. It dawned on me at midnight that we pay someone quarterly to do this and why am I feeling like I should be wearing the dunce cap in the front corner of the classroom because someone thought I should be doing their CPA jobbie-job? For the love of all that is good on this planet, I forewent the nasty gram e-mail at that moment in space and time, which would have included too many "Chuck You's" for my own Amazonian good.

***Instead, I am now sending away all forms, "organizer" as you so call it as well as all currently added deductions for a paid someone to scramble. Do not send me an e-mail 8-days prior to taxes being due when you have never sent me a previous due date. If you want something done by a certain date, please send one to me at the original time of request. A "please complete all data as much as possible to avoid a delay in filing" is not a due date. Nor is ". . . to be completed and returned to my office as soon as possible. . . " Fact #1 and Fact #1.5.

***Oh and yeah. . . . do not ask me to prepare a company tax preparation sheet that is 30-pages long. I am the last person you should ask what a "Schedule K-1: Partnerships, Estates and Trusts, S Corporation" is as well as to define it in monetary terms? Because I will inform you that I am in a partnership with the husband, neither of us own an estate in the country and I do trust him explicitly. CPA'ing was definitely not my calling or my current or past form of employment. If it was, I absolutely and categorically would not pay you to do it for us. Fact #2.

***I'm just sayin'. Fact #3.

• Apparently, I am still on my mini north Ukraine city melt-down over our company taxes. This from not even knowing the amount we will be charged by our gracious and loving Internal Revenue System. Wait until that happens.
  

• Our Boykin Spaniel, Dixie takes after moi in not being a morning person. The dog refuses to get out of her bed to go outside for the "biznazz" if it is any earlier than 9 AM. This is our our 1-year and 10-month old puppy. Today, the husband called her out the door at 7:30. He even pulled on her collar. She acted as if her cute little canine legs did not work. When he physically pulled her off her bed, she turned right back around and laid back down. It must be exhausting to be a dog. I started giggling. Finally, in fits of snickering himself, he picked her up and placed her outside. She sat down and stared at us through the door. Doggie torture.

• She still tries to lick my wounded knee.
  

• Catching up with old friends is good for the soul. Spending the day with them while foregoing precious study time is worth more than its weight in gold. Or is it platinum these days?
  

• Earned an extra $185.00, BECAUSE THE HUSBAND WON FIRST PLACE in a field of 75 bicycle racers from the Men's Cat 4/5 road race of 45-miles! Ask me just how proud of the husband I am. Yes, you read that right. . . . he raced and won a 45-mile bike competition. He's kick-assth.
  

• I can also make some pretty kick-assth energy pancakes from scratch. Not first place, but not bad either. No sugar added or fat added. Bou-yah.
  

That is all. I am still not cute or comfy and am tremendously behind in my studies. I am pretty sure of that.

Toodles.

If You Can Hear Me, I Believe

I am not supine anymore and I also can move more than 50-feet away from the porcelain goddess. I also should not wear 5" stilettos to massage therapy school anymore, especially when playing Frogger across 6 lanes of road at 7:45 AM.

I'm just sayin'.