Texas Bound

I've got 3 hours.

3 hours to finish packing (really dragging my feet on that one), get myself to the airport, and take off for Texas.

To see my Loo.

And to work really hard on not melting over the next week.

I can't wait. Can't wait to see my old friend, and can't wait to help her celebrate her big day.

And oh yeah... let's not forget about those pictures.

It's going to be an amazing week, and I am so ready to go.

But before I leave, it should be noted that last night... there was a kiss. A middle of a parking lot, standing up on my tippy toes to meet his lips, unable to catch my breath kiss.

The whole thing is still very innocent and chaste at this point. Still very different from anything I have experienced in a long time.

But I do have a bit of a crush.

So while I can't wait for the week to come.

It's fair to say, I may be looking forward to coming home as well...

And Then There Was a Second Date

There have been a lot of first dates over the last few months. After taking a nearly 7 month  break from men, there was an obvious end to that dry spell when I least expected it. Suddenly, I was meeting men everywhere. Every time I looked up, there was another standing there vying for my attention.

And I liked it.

I was having fun.

I was in control.

I was dating, just to date.

And in that, there were no second dates.

No men who piqued my interest enough to warrant a second date.

I was simply having fun, and taking what was sent my way, with no real desire to search for anything more.

Until now that is.

This guy has me intrigued.

Cautiously optimistic.

And going in for the second date.

(Courtesy of flickriver.com)

Tonight. Something outdoors. He and I, spending a few more hours together before I leave for a week in Texas.

This is all moving at a very normal trajectory.

There hasn’t even been a first kiss yet.

By the time the boy and I were having our second date (within just a few hours of separating after our first) we were already declaring our devotion for each other.

In retrospect, that may have been part of the problem.

Either way, it feels like it has been a long time since I have done “normal”.

And I kind of like it.

Here I am… cautiously optimistic.

I met a guy.

And then there was a second date.

The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow...

Or rather, today.

After a very rainy weekend.

I can't really complain though. I got to hang out by the fire with friends:

And cuddle up with this little man:

We made it out for a walk:

Where my puddle jumpers were put to good use:

And we did get to enjoy seeing everything finally green up after a very looooong winter:

And then, the sun came out today. Just in time for me to make it home for a 4 mile run (after Saturday's 8 miles), in a super fun effort to add to this mess:

Seriously, my blisters have blisters. Anyone with any tips on what to do about that... I would appreciate any and all words of wisdom!

Otherwise, it was a pretty fantastic weekend.

And hey, the sun is out.

Just like I knew it would be.

Like The Rejects Thanksgiving

Something happens around the holidays when you are single and living away from your family.

Suddenly, everyone you know is inviting you to their holiday celebrations. And before you know it, you have 12 Thanksgivings to stop at in a single day. And you have a blast. You eat, drink, and be merry. You enjoy the time with the people who love you enough to want you around on the big days. You’re thankful to be surrounded by people who care about you so much.

But by the time you go home, you can’t help but think to yourself that it would have been far less exhausting to just stay in bed with your DVR and a box of Kraft mac and cheese.

(Courtesy of aoltv.com)

(The Gilmore Girls know exactly what I'm talking about!)

That pretty much describes my Memorial Day Weekend to a T.

It’s like the rejects Thanksgiving.

And I have 1000 places to go.

It all starts this afternoon, after I get my 8 mile run in (because let’s not forget… I’m still in training for a half marathon). I’ve got campsites to hit up, friends to visit with, and people waiting on me to make an appearance. I’ve got more invites than I could possibly keep up with. I’m feeling pretty loved.

But by the time I get home on Monday, I’m also pretty sure I’m going to be feeling pretty exhausted.

And then… it’s only 2 more days until I head to Texas to see my Loo.

I certainly can’t complain.

I’m a pretty happy girl right now.

And for the record…

That date on Thursday night…

Turns out he might just be the first guy in a very long time I would actually consider giving a second date to.

Life is good.

And I hope everyone has a fantastic weekend!

I Just Want To Be The Only Girl...

I have been obsessed with this lately:

I love the song. And I love The Band Perry. But I also love how the video reminds me of that old HBO show Carnivale. Did anyone ever see that? It only lasted 2 seasons, but it was incredible. I used to watch it with one of the girls who lived in my dorm and her boyfriend. We were the only ones into it and watching together became our weekly ritual. I’m pretty sure it never caught on with anyone else we knew simply because no one else really got it. Which was too bad for them, because that show was amazing.

Back to the song though. 

Like I said… obsessed.

And as I prepare to go on yet another date tonight (I’m telling you all, the universe has been sending men to me lately in ridiculous numbers… I’ve never been asked out so much in my life!) All I can think is… this is what I’m waiting for: 

I don't want the whole world. 

The sun and moon and all their light. 

I just want to be the only girl. 

You love all your life.

Until I find that though… 

I sure am having fun!

Hope Dies Last

It was over a year ago that I wrote a post titled “Hope Dies Last”. I had heard the phrase on an old episode of Dawson’s Creek, of all places. But it struck me. It stayed with me. And I never really was quite able to get those words, or their meaning to me, out of my head.

Hope Dies Last

What does that have to do with what I’m about to tell you today?

Well, I’ll get to that.

First things first: I got my results in for the triathlon. I’m going to be completely honest by saying that they were laughable. My total time was 2 hours, 10 minutes, and 53 seconds. The swim (which was 500 yards) took me 11 minutes and 36 seconds. That’s probably the area I am most disappointed with myself on, if only because I know I could have done better there. In fact, I know I should have done better. I swear though, once that panic set in I was done for. I even lost count of what lap I was on, which has never happened to me before. But I’ve never really swam in a pool with that many people swimming around me and watching either. It was overwhelming, and I choked. Next year…

My first transition was 8 minutes and 30 seconds. This really is a joke. I have no idea what I was doing that took me so long, other than trying to calm myself down after the pool fiasco. But getting from the pool to the bikes should have taken me half that time, at most. I’ve decided I was napping during that first transition. Or dying.

The bike (which was 12 miles) took me 57 minutes and 20 seconds. I’m pretty happy with that actually. Given how stressed I was about the bike portion of this race, and how uncomfortable I was on a bike even just a month ago – I will absolutely take that time. Knowing full well that I can improve upon it by next year.

The run (4 miles) took me 53 minutes and 28 seconds. I can’t even be mad at myself about that part. I knew as I was walking (or jogging incredibly slowly) that I was completely blowing my run time. Yet I couldn’t seem to motivate myself to go harder. So there it is. It took me 53 minutes and 28 seconds to complete a 4 mile run. And again… I’m actually OK with that. Knowing full well that next year, I damn well better improve there.

So overall, I look at my times for the whole race and see where I can cut a few minutes here and there. But the truth is, after doing it; I think it would be a pretty big miracle for me to finish this race in under an hour and 45 minutes. My goal for next year will be under 2 hours. I know I can do that, and then… I’ll just take it from there.

My point in sharing my abysmal times is only to say this: I am not a natural born athlete. Not even close. But I did this. I did it slowly, but I did it. And even in seeing the areas I could have improved, I am beyond proud of myself. I’ve got a sense of accomplishment over this whole thing that I can’t even really describe, and now that I know better what to expect – I really can’t wait to do it again next year. One of my favorite things about this race was how many women, of all different ages and athletic abilities, were there doing the whole thing themselves. Everyone was incredibly encouraging and supportive, and the whole vibe was just amazing. I’ve had a lot of people telling me how proud they are of me, or how impressed they are because it’s not something they would ever be able to do, and I just want to say – you could totally do it. I saw women out there of every shape and size pushing through. Women you would never think would be doing a triathlon were out there giving it their all. Even if it meant crawling across the finish line, you could do it. If I can do it, anyone can. And I’m telling you – it was such a rush that I wouldn’t trade for anything. So not only can you do it, but you absolutely should!

Now, about that phrase.

Hope Dies Last

It turns out, someone you know got a new tattoo yesterday.

I’ve been planning it for a few weeks now (actually, I’ve been planning it ever since I first heard Joey Potter utter those words, but a few weeks ago the how and where finally came to me), but I had to wait until after the tri to get it because, well… you can't get in a pool after getting a new tattoo until it heals. Not to mention the fact that it is going to be at least a few days before I can think about putting a sports bra on again.

Because, you see… I may have had those words tattooed to my rib cage.

Now, I started with the picture above for 2 reasons. 1) I wanted to show off what a rock star I was. Everyone I told I was getting a rib cage tattoo did this thing where they scrunched up their noses and told me how bad it was going to hurt. I heard the same thing when I got my foot done, and it turned out to be cake, so I tried to tell myself this would be the same. But I was starting to get nervous. Especially when I commented on some woman’s full back tattoo (seriously, her WHOLE back) on Sunday and told her I was getting my new one on Monday and as soon as she heard I was going to do the ribs, she did that same thing with her nose before telling me how much it was going to hurt! I was really getting anxious a few hours before my appointment, sweating and feeling icky in my stomach, totally working myself up about the pain. I psyched myself out big time. And then… we got started and I was fine. Laughing and joking with my amazing friend who joined me, and making goofy faces even as the needle was going in. I was totally fine. For an hour… I was a rock star. The pain was nowhere near as bad as I expected it to be. In fact, I would take that over a cootchie wax any day!

The other reason I started with that super flattering picture is because I wanted to make sure it was the cover photo for this post, and that anyone not interested in seeing my new tattoo had ample warning that I was about to share it before I actually did. Since it is on my rib cage, you are going to see more skin than I would typically share here.

You have been warned.

So without further ado, here is my new favorite thing:

Don’t worry; you don’t need to get your eyes checked. And you are looking at it right. If you’re confused, that’s good. You should be. Because I didn’t have those words written in a typical fashion.

No, I had them written for me.

In a mirror image, so that I can read them every time I see them.

Hope Dies Last

What does it mean to me? It means that I will not give up hope. Until the day I die, I will not stop holding on to the belief that I am going to be somebody’s mommy. Somehow, someway, I will get the life I’ve always dreamed of. I will find love, and build my family, and look back on all of this someday as just being part of the journey. I will be an amazing mother, no matter what it takes. And I won’t stop believing that until it happens.

Hope Dies Last

Until I find my way to the babies that are meant to be mine…

I will never stop hoping.

Ever.

And now, I've got a reminder of that. Inked right next to my heart, in a place I'll never be able to forget.

Hope Dies Last