So, let’s talk Heated Rivalry because I cannot get it out of my head.
I have been so good about not watching the show on repeat because whenever I have watched it, it gets my full attention. Kind of hard to put it on in the background and do stuff… I’m also kind of annoyed with it. I found my original Drarry plot / sketch notebook and it’s like Tierney and Reid went through it page by page. There are just too many hockey tropes that writers - me included - lean on, but they did it better. Yeah. I’ve been fighting with the Drarry hockey disaster for years so now I’m on draft three. I’m trying to get away from the tropes, yet still fit in the framework that people find familiar.
Honestly, as annoying as it is to start fresh, the writing is better this time around. Or, at least, I like it better.
I finished all the books and I’m also very annoyed at the people on Facebook who are asking stupid questions about things that happen in the books, but say that they refuse to read them. OR they only read the two books that center on Hollanov, and miss the subtle things woven throughout the six books. Like Ilya colllecting gay people… It’s this whole thing that you don’t really catch on to, but it’s there. REALLY subtle and nicely done.
I’m also annoyed by the Skip haters who, well, skip their episode because they ‘don’t like it’. My siblings in Christ, if it wasn’t for Skip, WE WOULD NEVER GO TO THE COTTAGE. I think the show did the book dirty because the relationship was weird and angsty and kind of beautiful in it’s own way. I have to say that during every reheat I yell “SKIPPY” every time I see them on screen, I like them that much.
The cats are starting to worry about my mental health.
They don’t even know the amount of crazy I can bring to the party.
I could go on, but let’s talk about the title of this entry. Which, oddly enough, has nothing to do with the two hockey players.
I’ve been in a weird place lately. Not quite depressed, not quite manic, but definitely not normal. I’d say I’m cycling but it doesn’t feel like that, either. I’m stuck in this weird off-center bipolar limbo. Even my shrink picked up on it when we met this week. I don’t know. It is what it is and nothing is fixing it. I’m just going to ride it out and hope I come out the other side soon. I thought I’ve experienced everything the bipolar could possibly throw at me, but this is new. And I don’t like it.
This weird little place my brain is residing in led to me to texting Mr. First Guy and telling him I wish we were watching the BOS-MTL game together. We’re both huge Bruins fans and our favourite player is Andy Moog, a goalie. He shares a birthday with Moog and I share a birthday with Bobby Orr, so it’s like we were meant to be. We have, however, in the years since high school become friends. Good friends. Besties. It’s not outside the realm of possibility for us to go to a game together, or even watch a game on TV. More importantly, it’s a completely valid emotional response to watching the biggest rivalry in hockey. (Which, OK. Fine. The rivalry in Heated Rivalry is also BOS-MTL, which lead a bunch of fangirls to watch that game. Whatever. It’s weird, but, you do you, boo.)
During this conversation, I brought up Mr. FNFTF and said how the two of them have really helped me survive through the years. Like they filled two holes in me. Which, thankfully, didn’t go anywhere further than ‘shared trauma’ being the glue keeping them in my life. They were both around when my mother died and they were there when my dad died, too. I know my dad’s death affected Mr. FNFTF because they used to hang out without me. Which is weird, but gives me the warm fuzzies. I’m just fortunate that I still have people around from that time period because I don’t have a lot of people left who were there. A lot of people only saw the fallout from my mother’s death or they saw me hit rock bottom after my dad died. The people that came in and out of my life in the 10 years between just don’t get me. Neither do the ones that came in after my dad. I don’t know how to describe it. I mean, those are life changing events and they really form the basis of who I am. To not see the whole picture…
When Mr. First Time told me he loved me in that text conversation, I broke down and bawled. Ugly cried. It was so good to hear it - unprovoked and knowing exactly where it was coming from. I didn’t realise how alone I’d been feeling until he reminded me that I still have some worth to people. (Depression lies. Period.)
Everybody is fascinated by how easily I walked away from a relationship of 30 years, married for 26, but after all those years of riding the bipolar roller coaster with me, he still didn’t understand what I needed. And I wanted to move back to New England. Neither was something we could compromise on and I’d go so far as to state that keeping that relationship going was a compromise, but I wasn’t willing to continue doing it any more. We haven’t spoken in any way, shape, or form since his text asking how the drive to Maine was. I certainly didn’t go out of my way to text him on his birthday - I didn’t feel the need to. Unlike the other two, I don’t need him in my life and more importantly, I don’t want him there, either.
So. Yeah. It’s nice to be understood. It’s nice to be wanted. It’s nice to have, um, holes filled.
And on a completely random note, the breeder we got G-Man from has a new litter of puppies. I’ve wanted a dog, but I’ve been flip flopping over what breed to get. For $3,800 I can get an amazing German Shepherd. Good temperament, breed to be gorgeous, and smart as fuck. BUT that is a lot of cash I don’t really have unless I dig into my savings and my house really needs to have the vinyl siding replaced. Decisions, decisions. I think I’d rather spend the money on a dog, tbh. Not sure the cats will agree, though. The breeder hasn’t asked for a deposit, so I’m just going to wait and see if I make it to the reservation list or the wait list. I haven’t heard back.
Even more random, Fandom Running Club is doing it’s first Rumble of the year. I’m on a team (Razoom’s Back!) that’s fundraising for Razom for Ukraine. The race has three different groups with different caps (5K, 10K, 10 miles) to make it more competitive. My dumb ass has consistently been doing 10 miles since we started 16 days ago. I could drop to a lower level. I want to drop to a lower level, but I also want to win and doing 10 a day will keep us competitive. I mean, I can’t bitch about my teammates. We all have things going on and it’s easier to do lower miles. I’m not that busy. I can spend 4 hours on a treadmill, no problem. My feet don’t want me to - I have blisters EVERYWHERE. My toes are killing me and since 10 different blisters in that area wasn’t enough, they’ve moved onto my heel. I don’t care. I can live with the pain. Ukrainians are dealing with a lot worse than blistered feet.
Even even more random, I have FINALLY moved into the kitchen. I ended up ripping out one of the lazy susans and finding some pull out drawers on clearance at Home Depot. The cabinets are much more functional now. Every thing I can’t fit is in the dining room. That was on my agenda to clean this weekend, but I tore the living room apart instead. I needed more light and I needed more space between the couch, pellet stove, and treadmill. The good news is that the living room is spotless and the kitchen is finally livable. I’ll get to the dining room soon. I do need the house as clean as possible ASAP. I’m tired of living like this. It just sucks that my time is so limited. (Also, the puppies will be ready to go home in March, so I have extra motivation.)
Speaking of things to do… I should probably get to my to-do list. I’m hopping on the treadmill for the Stupid Bowl if only because I want to see how Green Day and Bad Bunny comment on the current state of the union…. which only leaves me 5 hours to try to do eleventy gazillion things.
That only took three tries and a panicked email to an EE developer I know… but I finally managed to upgrade the backend of my little blog. Finally.
So…
Detroit.
That was a trip and a half. So glad I went!
For as much fun as I had, there were a lot of bad things, but let’s start with the good:
Shannon picking me up and giving me Faygo pop (It’s a Detroit thing.) and promising to leave both my kidneys. It is fun to get picked up at the airport by internet strangers!!!
Going to the Red Wings game with Heather. The Wings lost and it was a shit game, but I was pleased to see a lot of familiar names on the Rangers’ roster. It was nice to be at a pro hockey game again. I am finally healing. Not healed, it will still be a long time for that, but healing…
THE SPIRITED FISTING WALKING TOUR!!! There’s a very famous statue called the Spirit of Detroit and a random statue of a fist. So… yeah. A bunch of us got bored and went on a trek so that we could get fisted. (God, even my pocket friends are weird!)
I ended up walking the 1 mile and 5K with Heather. It was nice to have the company, but the walk itself was odd. Instead of combining both races, like they’ve done at every one 1/5 I’ve gone to, you had to do each race SEPARATELY. Two bibs and about two minutes to change them out, if you were as slow as we were. It was nice, though. I can’t remember the last time I did a race with a friend.
The half marathon was the best experience of my entire racing career. It was cold as fuck that morning and walking up the Ambassador Bridge will forever live on in my nightmares. I’m kind of disappointed I didn’t get pulled over by the Border Patrols, because that would have made it even better. The sunrise over Detroit, the views from the bridge, doing the world’s only underwater mile… it was definitely a once in a lifetime experience.
Then, like idiots, we went on a ghost tour. Because after doing a half (or in one case, a full) marathon, the one thing we should do is go on a walking ghost tour. It was horrible. Absolutely fucking horrible. I’ve been thinking about sending a review myself. The girl didn’t know any of the good stories and it was… you know it’s bad when the highlight of the entire tour is a ghost cow. (Don’t ask.)
As for the bad (?): I cried as we approached Detroit. Like I didn’t even know how badly I missed the fall foliage until I saw it.
I was so energized by the cold that it was sort of terrifying. I know I miss the cold, but I didn’t realize I missed it that much.
I didn’t wake up with a barometric pressure induced headache the entire time I was there. Not a single headache all weekend, which is really rare for me during Hurricane Season.
I had the uber driver from hell. He asked how much the trip cost me (a 5AM trip to the airport) and I stupidly told him $80. HE BITCHED THE ENTIRE TRIP THAT HE WASN’T GETTING PAID ENOUGH. Like, dude, that is not my fucking problem. I tipped him too well - and got charged twice for the damn thing - and decided, yeah, never taking an uber again. Once was enough.
And… not only was I miserable to get off the plane in Fort Lauderdale, MY CAR BATTERY DIED. I waited three hours for AAA to get there and replace it. The guy was great, though. We had a really inappropriate conversation (Titties and a stick shift? I LOVE YOU!), but the test he did on the battery answered a lot of questions I’d been having. I’m due for an oil change, and was going to wait until then. But, my luck is shit.
I didn’t have much company during the half, so I spent probably ten miles of it deep in my head.
I decided that I was moving sooner rather than later, but now that I’m back in my shitty Florida life, I’m not sure I can speed run the move home. There’s absolutely no reason to stay, but I’m also very loyal to my boss. The man is a saint and I don’t want to hurt him. I can probably manage my job remotely, but I don’t even want to say that to him yet. There’s stuff and things going on at the day job and I’m not sure the timing is right for my exit. My lease is up on 6/25 so I have some time to think about it.
Oh well, like I told my shrinky dink, I need to break the cycle of staying in Florida for men who treat me well. But it’s not that easy and it’s causing me a lot of mental turmoil. She thinks I should leave now, but… She also thinks I should move back to New Hampshire or Connecticut, but Maine is calling my name. And, yeah, I am looking at Presque Isle which is about as far north as I can get. Which would mean I’m “isolated” again and working remotely won’t make the “loneliness” better. But she doesn’t understand. I like being “isolated” and I’m not lonely. The big thing she’s missing is that Presque Isle is only like 6 hours from Boston. Will it suck to still be a decent distance from my friends? Yes. But I’d rather be a car ride away than have to deal with airports and that stupidity.
I don’t know. I still have a lot to think about and a ticket to Epic Universe on Labor Day. So, maybe I wait until the fall to move home - it depends on my lease. If I have to renew it for a year, I will, but I won’t be happy about it. I don’t like renting and I definitely don’t like this place. I’d rather see if I can do a six month lease.
I don’t know. There’s too much going on right now and I just need to take a step back and breathe.
Trump won the election. Four more years of hell on earth and that’s all I’m going to say on that.
I still haven’t updated the back end of this little blog (build date 20130506) so uploading photos and writing entries has been much more difficult than I have patience for.
While I’ve been disappeared, I’ve been busy. Just not doing very exciting things.
I moved into my own place in early June and it has been fucking wonderful. I love being alone - I forgot how amazing it is. (What? I’m an only child. I’ve lived with someone for 26 years. That’s a lot of… living with someone. And, yes, I know that I lived with my parents, but those were my parents. It wasn’t like I had much choice.)
The job from hell is still the job from hell, but my sales tax consultants filed July’s taxes with few headaches. I also found a company to build me “Wendell’s Way Cool Sales Tax Calculator”. All I need to do is upload the shipments / drop manifests and the program spits out the three reports I use. This is very exciting for several reasons, most of all the amount of time it has been saving me.
I’ve been unable to close a month since I closed March. I just did April. I’m starting May as soon as I get August’s sales tax file over to the consultants. That’s so pathetic, but this sales tax thing has been all consuming for months now. At least the owner has been patient with me. I actually got a lecture about pushing myself so hard. As a result, I was talked into taking a four day weekend.
I spent most of yesterday doing absolutely nothing, but I did get a run in.
I’ve dialed in my run/walk ratio and for a 5K, I’m a consistent 16/16:30 minute mile. That’s Disney safe, but I need to make sure it’s sustainable for 13 miles. I’ve got two half marathons coming up that have strict time limits… one of them is my very last Disney race. Yeah, I’m hanging up the running shoes, at least as far as Disney is concerned. It’s too expensive and I’ve not enjoyed my trips to the House of Mouse. I’m a Uni girl through and through.
I was going to go for a run this afternoon, but now that I’m ready to leave, a peek out the window is telling me that it would appear that rain is imminent. Whatever. I still have two days to try and get a long run in. I’ll probably go tomorrow morning.
Today, I’ve spent working on a business plan and laying the groundwork to start my own business. For years I’ve been thinking about hanging up my shingle and running an accounting company. (Well, I’m not a CPA so I can’t advertise being an “accounting” company in the state of FL, so it will have to be bookkeeping. Which I’m fine with.)
The only thing about this that bothers me is that everyone I’ve asked is telling me that my name sucks. It’s not serious enough. It’s confusing. As a result, I’m going with my second choice, but meh. I figure once I get established as a ‘serious’ company, I can change to that name. It’s fine. I locked down the domain name, a Facebook page, and an instagram handle. I need to grab a Facebook page for name number two, but I already have the domain and two that are very similar. The major, major issue with the second choice is that there is a “kinky bisexual” couple that show up as the #1 hit on google. (How kinky? They have an OnlyFans site. Fuck me. Or maybe don’t. I don’t know anymore.)
Aaaaaaand, here comes the rain.
Anyhoo, I’ve found a virtual office because 1) I’m not using my home address and 2) I can’t use my apartment as my business location. It will violate the terms of my lease. I still need to find a phone service because I’m not giving out my personal number. I’m leaning towards RingCentral because I can get multiple phone numbers and I’m thinking that I’ll need a Florida and a Maine number at some point. I’m going to work on pricing and the types of work that I want to do this weekend. Maybe later tonight. I don’t know. If not, it’s something I can easily do on Monday or even at lunch during the work day.
So, yeah, things are rocking and rolling. I’ve planned on launching the business by October 1st, so I have to get cracking with the administration bits and the certifications I want to hold. I figure if I can make X my first year, and scale it to Y in the second, I’ll be able to sustain myself enough to move home and not need to work for someone else. I think it’s highly possible to do that AND work full time, but we’ll see. I’d rather get stuck in FL for a third year while building up the business, but I’m ready to get out of here NOW. It’s a struggle.
Tomorrow’s agenda includes making an apple coffee cake, going for a run and doing some card making / organizing my supplies. I already did a lot of shopping because some of my ink pads died and I can’t get refills (the company went out of business). I’m planning on opening an Etsy store, too. Of course, that has to be done under a different name and a different business license in FL. OF COURSE. Fuckers. (Again, I’m not using any of my personal information for this and I’m calling the bookkeeping company a BOOKKEEPING company and registering it as an LLC, so I couldn’t mix the two if I wanted to.) *sigh*
That still leaves me Monday. I have no idea what I’m going to do with myself. I’m already bored and trying to climb the walls.
Although… that could be chalked up to the QB Online certification I’m working on.
Whatever.
I’m alive and thriving right now. I feel the best I have in a long time.
if people are scouring my search history, they should be very concerned
Two weekends, two races, two very different results.
Last weekend was a 10K and I was Dead Fucking Last. So far in the back that they left the timing mat down and one girl stood there with one solitary medal for me.
This weekend, I attempted a half marathon and Did Not Finish. In my defense, I really had to pee.
This race was two loops, so I passed the starting / finish line twice before looping back for the final crossing. This is important.
Well.
There was not a single port-a-pottie on the race course. NOT. A. SINGLE. ONE.
It wasn’t bad enough that I was so far in the back, they had pulled down the timing mat at the halfway point. I was so far back that the cops forced me onto the sidewalk (Which, thanks, Doral. You’ll be getting my bill from the ER for the broken ankle.) I was so far back that near the halfway point, all the water stations within three miles were poofed. I was so far back that the cops were gone after I turned back for the final five miles.
I was so far back that I decided to pee instead of crossing the finish line.
Hear me out.
When I got to the finish line with three miles still to go, the clock read 3 hours and they were starting to tear it down. I finish in 4 right now.
Near the finish line is the one and only public restroom on the entire course.
My choices were absolutely ridiculous:
1) pee my pants, finish in four hours, but not cross the timing mat (DNF)
2) step off the course, take my pee, finish in 4:15, but not cross the timing mat (DNF)
3) walk down the finisher’s chute, pull my bib off, head to the bathroom before crossing the timing mat, pee, and go home. (DNF)
Option 3 was my best one, I’m sad to say.
Did I say I really had to pee?
I went over to the official timer - after I went to the loo, of course - and told them if they were waiting for me, I wasn’t finishing.
Do you know what he said?
He said that they could leave the timing mat down if I wanted to finish, but they had to clear the road. That’s why they were tearing everything down.
Well, fuck me.
Honestly, I don’t regret my decision. I made it based on the knowledge available to me 10 miles in and with a full bladder.
I am writing to the race director, though.
1) I know I’m slow, but tearing down the finish line at the three hour mark of a half marathon AND NOT POSTING THAT THERE IS A TIME LIMIT is just rude. I would have never signed up if I knew I had to run a 3/3:30. That’s not possible right now. (Maybe they don’t actually have a time limit, because I was allowed to continue. I just lost all race support.)
2) You honestly can’t expect people to go 13 miles without a bathroom break. The 5 and 10Ks at Disney always have lines at the port-a-potties and public restrooms and those are less than half of a half marathon.
The funny / sad thing about this is that I never have to pee during a race. NEVER.
Well, never say never.
But on the flip side, my PHRC shirt made me a new friend. She was an Eagle, but she didn’t make the transition to the FRC. I can’t say I blame her, but it was nice to put the name to the face. We run a lot of the same races, so it will be nice to know someone at the races, even though she smoked me right off the start line.
Aaaaaand, speaking of the FRC, I’M GOING TO DETROIT!
(Who the fuck is ever excited about going to Detroit?)
I’m meeting up with my pocket friends and we’re going to run the Freep Marathon Weekend.
I posted a picture of my renewed passport with the caption: I’M GOING TO DETROIT! and um, yeah. There was one comment on the status questioning my sanity, but I actually received several DMs asking me if I was OK.
Oh, I am so far from OK… but that’s not related to this.
Also related to FRC - I just did a Battle. Finished with 89 miles over 10 days. I capped three times. We won the race (wooo!!!!), but the best part of all of it was my team. I haven’t been on a team that gave me the warm and fuzzies in a long time.
Oh, did I mention? The course for Battle took us from Erie, PA through Canada, Detroit, Northern Ohio (Toledo, Sandusky, etc.), and back to Erie. Toledo was… fun. Nothing like reliving some of the worst years of my life.
I have stories about stuff and things and I’m not in the right headspace to talk about them right now.
Seems to be the story of my life.
I can part with this, though:
March 18th was the 32nd anniversary of my mother’s death.
She died when I was 16.
She has been dead for double the amount of time she was in my life.
