I know you probably woke up this morning thinking to yourself, "What is stressful, frustrating, and beautiful all at the same time? Seems like something Casey would know the answer to..."

I do, and it's pictured above.

It's not frustrating because it's unplayable. It's frustrating because it's NEARLY playable. I ALMOST sound really good on it.

But not quite.

This photo was right outside the Keller auditorium as I left my last Nutcracker performance of the season. As you can see, there's very little distinction between the roads and sidewalks here.

The bad snow started a week ago. All my students were cancelled this week. I've only left the house a few times, and now we're supposed to get yet another two inches of snow tonight. It's fine for a while, until we realized this bad weather is inching dangerously close to Christmas Eve, when we have a flight booked for Colorado. We are starting to get nervous about leaving on time.

I also think I'm starting to go slightly stir crazy. I think I'd just like to get out and take a walk tomorrow. You know, bundle up in my winter garb and venture out, just like the good old days in Chicago. Except not nearly as much eat-your-face temperatures.

Updates on the bunker situation as I get them.

Giddy!!

I can't post what Tom's Christmas present is, lest he read it here and the surprise be ruined.

But I am INCREDIBLY proud of myself. I am one hot fiancée.

For all you non-Portland readers...

I am not complaining... TRUST ME. I would take Portland weather over Chicago weather ANY DAY.

But, as I understand it, this kind of thing just doesn't happen here.

Tom and I awoke on Sunday morning, still discussing the plan to take me downtown to my Nutcracker performances. I stumbled out of bed and peeked through the blinds. Then, chuckling, I pulled them up to show Tom the treat that was outdoors: SNOOOOOOOW!

At that moment, a whole inch had fallen on the ground, and it was still snowing big, fat, luscious snowflakes, the wind whipping them around - supposedly to increase the panic that was about to ensue.

See, Portland just doesn't get snowstorms like this. People who grew up in Portland and never ventured elsewhere don't really know how to drive in the snow. And the city doesn't have a fleet of snowplows to take care of such emergencies. Every once in a while, you'd see a truck drive by on the news, dropping gravel, but other than that, people pretty much stayed off the streets. Except for a slight bit of hustle and bustle around the Keller to see the Nutcracker, Portland was pretty ghost-towny. And school cancellations were flying off the charts by 5PM.

Off one inch of snow. One inch!! One inch in Colorado means whipping out the good sneakers to walk to school, and leave the ones with duct tape holding them together at home.

Of course, Colorado has a very different type of snow. It's just snow (not icy usually), and an average of 300 sunny days a year usually melt it off pretty fast. Portland's humidity and moisture content turn the roads into a pretty thick sheet of ice - all it takes are a few tires to pack it down on the road. There are lots of chain and studded tire rules here, especially for the freeway. And when Tom and I took the truck into Portland, we saw many, many unfortunate and abandoned cars on the side of the road that just couldn't make it up the hill. Not having lots of snow perhaps means not knowing that your basic 2-door sedan just won't cut it up Barbur Boulevard.

Right now it's calm outside, though the snow and ice still remain. My students are cancelled for tomorrow, however, as most school districts here are taking another day off. And we're expected to have another heavy snowfall come Wednesday. It's been an interesting, bunker-style situation. Should be a slow Christmas shopping week as well... and that's just weird.

Of course, the snow sure is getting me in the Christmas spirit. It's not sneaking up on me like it did last year. Now I've got the inkling to make hot chocolate, but this was the first GF recipe that I could find. No agave nectar or stevia in my pantry - I'm a bad, bad celiac. I think a trip to Whole Foods tomorrow is worth braving the ice sheet.

So I wasn't technically "tagged" with this... I just stole it from Reva. And the tag doesn't really work for me: going in to my pictures folder, opening up the 7th folder and posting the 7th picture. I don't have 7 folders yet. (I imagine a wedding will change ALL of that.) So I simply got my 7th picture in iPhoto, and that is the gloriousness you see above. The fellow getting pummeled is my hubby-to-be, while the fellow doing the pummeling is his buddy from tech school. This was taken last year, when the Rockies and the Phillies were vying for a World Series spot, and both these guys felt they needed to represent their respective home states. (In case you had forgotten, the Rockies made it all the way to the World Series, only to be swept by the Red Sox... booooooo.)

I have actually been thinking about this guy and his fiancée a lot lately, and was happy to find this picture. Last year, that couple happened to be at as similar a point in their lives as we were. She's a really kickass piccolo player looking for an orchestral career, and after an undergrad in music, he decided repair was the way to go. Sound familiar? We devised a plan last year that both she and I would make it in to the same orchestra, and then our hubbys could open a repair shop together. Then they ruined everything by moving back home to the east coast once repair school was done. And now? Well, we just miss them like crazy.

It turns out Portland, while one of the coolest cities ever, puts you pretty far away from a lot of places. We find this longing for our friends creeps up on us a lot. And our families often seem out of reach. Knoxville's an even harder place to access than Portland, it turns out: on Thursday we're taking an hour flight to Seattle, a 4 hour flight to Cinncinati, and then another hour flight into Knoxville. We're leaving the house before anyone should humanly be expected to function in the morning and getting in just in time for dinner. My brain is still doing backflips trying to figure all that out. I just hope the exhaustion from travelling will get me to bed at a decent hour and I can get up early enough to offset the jet lag. (I guess I'm not that worried about sleeping in... Thanksgiving with my family includes a 6-year-old with some big lungs.)

I always seem to wax nostalgia in this thing - don't get me wrong, life here is still pretty great. We've got great friends who we've all sucked in to our world of card games, and just last night I had a tremendously fun and educational time reading Beethoven quartets with some great people. Seems like there's this constant balance, though - how often to feed the part of me that misses people, and how often to indulge in the present. I think they're both necessary.

For now, though, I'll do neither. Our apartment's a mess, and I've got it in my head that it's going to be clean before we leave. Who knows whether or not this will actually happen. :)

People are talking!!

I love comments on my blog posts! I'm just sorry it's taken me so long to get around to them! I promise now I'll start talking back. :)

You never quite know the joy of a functional digestive system until you live without one for many, many years. I have to undo over a couple decades of bad eating habits. After thinking that cramping and running to the bathroom half the time after eating was just normal digestion, I've trained myself to eat through the pain. I've only seen the benefits of eating as the nice tastes that hit my tongue, and not the numerous other ones; a healthy diet can give you more energy, you can actually CONTROL your bloatiness every month based on the things you eat, and being properly fed has an enormous impact on your mood.

And thank goodness for Chipotle, an unexpected gluten-free haven that encompasses joys of both the palette and the gut.

It's taken quite a while of diet adjustment, and I'm still learning. No dairy yet, as my belly's still healing - lactose is difficult to digest for weak intestines. And not too many vegetables or fruits at the same time - too much fiber can bring the cramping all back. However, today's lunch cuisine was one of Chipotle's chicken burrito bowls, with rice, black beans, two different types of salsa, and lettuce sprinkled on top. No dairy, no gluten, plenty of protein, and not too high in the calorie count, either.

Not only was it delicious, but I'm typing this entry now almost two hours after eating it, and my stomach feels WONDERFUL. No cramping. No hasty digestion and running to the bathroom. A calm and relaxed belly is an amazing feeling, and every time I think of the way it used to be, I tear up a little.

It's going to take a while to feel like this calm of a stomach is normal. But the relief I feel over this is 25 years worth. And that's not an exaggeration. I can't believe there are people living with this condition for 40, 50, even 60 years before somebody figures out what's wrong with them. My quality of life has gone up enormously.

I also had a great night at Fred Meyer last night where I hit the gluten free MOTHERLOAD. After grabbing just a couple things from the gluten free shelf, I ventured out, more from curiosity than anything, to find something else that sounded really good. Some sort of Thai noodles really struck my fancy, and I found myself in the ethnic food aisle. (Still not sure why they call it that... they could say the Mexican and Asian food aisle and be more accurate.) I found tons of alternatives, from the Thai Kitchen and A Taste of Thai brands that were ALL gluten free. In fact, the Thai Ginger instant soup I had last night (the closest thing I've had to Ramen noodles in a long time) would be an easy conversion to egg drop soup.

The hunt for things I can eat can become exciting with the right attitude. Lumping the products on the table in front of Tom last night, pronouncing with each package, "Gluten free! Gluten free!" felt amazing. I'd have to say, if I had been told that I HAD to have an autoimmune disease and was forced to pick which one, I'd take this one in a heartbeat. Celiac disease, in this day and age, is completely livable.

Exhaustion

I wonder if it was just pure tired-ness that caused me to sleep as hard as I did last night.

Which was HARD.

I didn't feel that well yesterday - I poured all my energy into my lessons and Linfield rehearsal, so by the time I got home, I was physically worn out and had a hint of a sore throat. I had the chills, and bundled myself up under the blankets within an hour of getting home. The last thing I remember saying to Tom was, "It's a really bad time to get sick! And it's so cold in here!" Tom then wrapped his arm around me, intent on warming me up, and it must have been exactly what I needed - I fell right asleep, and woke up this morning in the exact same position. I didn't even MOVE last night. I feel a little better, but still like I'm coming down with something.

I wonder if it's the pure volume of stuff I've been doing. I'm teaching 24 students now, in the midst of more than one concert series, and I'm also trying to prepare for two auditions in January. Why am I taking auditions? Because there are parts of the year where I encounter a long period of time with NO checks, and I'm just not sure I'm cut out for it anymore!

I don't want to move, but I'm not sure the opportunities are available for me here. Tom and I are doing just fine for ourselves, but we both agree that we want a family someday, and need to start looking for an advance in our careers. I know it will come along in some form or another, and right now is a time when we're simply paying our dues. And this is - what, character building?

However, a week from Thursday is Thanksgiving. That's going to be a long day for the two of us. But by the end of the day we'll be in Knoxville, surrounded by my whole family. It hasn't happened for two years, all of us getting together: the parents, the sister, brother-in-law, niece, and the hunny all at once. We both need a vacation, and we can't imagine a happier time than hanging out with the fam. So I'm just going to push through the exhaustion, make my way through my box of diet coke, and wait until the day when I can think about nothing but sitting on the big red couch in my parents' living room, sipping wine, and playing Trivial Pursuit.

I don't get it... separation between church and state seems so simple.

Protection for the church from the state: if the church believes a member isn't adhering to their doctrine, they have the right to ban this person from their church, free from questions and certainly free from government prosecution.

Protection for the state from the church: religious beliefs and doctrines shouldn't affect lawmaking for the American public.

Why is the country that I so dearly love seeming to have such problems with this concept?

Proposition 8

I think Keith really sums up a lot of my feelings here. But just to offer a few more reasons for why the passage of this amendment is cruel, inhumane, and just plain terrible, I'm trying to think of all the possible reasons someone would have voted for this law.

"The Bible tells me homosexuality is wrong."
Fair enough, and I truly respect whatever religion you believe in. I think one of the main Biblical passages people reference to prove this is when Lot (I think it's Lot - please correct me if my reference is wrong here) ends up staying with his family during the night close to Soddom. Late at night, two men come to his tent, wanting to have sex with him. Lot says no thank you, but the two men persist, apparently supposed to appear evil. Why doesn't anyone tell what happens next in the story - that Lot offers up his two young daughters for sex instead? I understand the guy was scared from two people who were obviously invading his privacy, but doesn't that technically make him the worst father EVER?
EDIT: If I've got this right, the Bible also tells you not to judge, lest you be judged. And to love your neighbor. And to treat people the way you would want to be treated. Isn't this passage a miserable failure to do all three of these things?

"I don't know how to explain to my children what they see when we pass two men holding hands on the street."
First, you're assuming a child would see something wrong with that. Children aren't born with the idea homosexuality is wrong, right, or just an aspect of life - they're taught it. And secondly, if you're too cowardly to explain something as simple as the idea of homosexuality, (in child terms, it's as simple as "a boy falling in love with a boy or girl falling in love with a girl") perhaps you should rethink this whole parenting thing. There's a lot of way more awful stuff in the world that extends past homosexuality you'll have to explain to them. When you think of rape, starvation, genital mutilation, and genocide, alongside hundreds of other terrible things that happen in this world, doesn't explaining a form of love seem like a wonderful thing to tell your children about?

"It's a question of protecting the sanctity of marriage."
I'm sorry, but this argument is old and desperate. It's actually a question of stripping someone of their civil rights as an American. You forget that heterosexual couples don't have to be in love - don't even have to KNOW each other - to get married in this country. It's a wonderful country we live in, and no one would ever think of taking that right away from the people who have it now. Oh, except California. And in many other states, they'd stop it from even happening.

"The more gay couples we have, the more gay kids we'll have."
While I know this isn't true, I'll suspend my logic for a moment and go with this. And I don't see a problem with that. Perhaps they're afraid their own child may be approached by a gay friend of theirs, asked on a date, and become uncomfortable. Shouldn't they be taught to react like all other similar situations? If you're not interested, politely decline. If you are interested, take it slow and enjoy yourself! Besides, when I look back on my history of dating and sexuality, all, and I repeat ALL of my uncomfortable experiences were with MEN.

Perhaps I'm missing something I've forgotten here, and I'd love to be enlightened if that's the case. Because at the moment, I find this a simple, unconstitutional amendment. You grant something to one American that you won't grant to another. You're not allowed to do that in this country, no matter who you are. I'm hopeful that this will be taken to the supreme court and be repealed. So does Republican Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger at the end of the referenced article.

I can't wait to call Tom my husband. I'm so unbelievably thankful for that right. And it makes me heartbroken that in California, nearly 40,000 people had that right and that joy briefly extended to them and then taken away. It marks the first time in American history where a right was granted to someone and then taken away. It's brutal, and it's a terrible treatment of our fellow citizens.

I love you, America.

My life is currently spread in several different directions, and the happiness and sadness has kind of worked its way across my brain to form some sort of mealy numbness.

On Friday, I learned my best friend's mother had committed suicide. It's one of the most awful, terrible, things that could ever happen to anyone, and the fact that it happened to her makes it so much worse. She's a brilliant, wonderful, vivacious person with a wonderful sense of humor, and I know if anyone has the strength to get through a blow like this, it's her. Still, I hurt for her, and I feel so far away from her.

And really, there's no good way to segue from that statement, so I'm just going to do a clumsy one.

This need to get a new job is getting more and more apparent. The Oregon Ballet Theater (Theatre? They're kind of pishers either way) decided to cut the orchestra's Nutcracker shows from 15 down to 6. For you non-freelancing musicians out there, the Nutcracker is pretty much our ONLY source of revenue in the holiday season, and if you're able to get yourself in an orchestra like this, you're set through this hard season of no weddings and no concerts in other orchestras. Oh, unless they pull something like this. I've gone from one gig away from making it through a rough spring without many jobs to, "Huh - how am I going to pay my January student loans?" It's a big deal, and I don't understand why they don't get that if they call us for a service, we usually have that money earmarked for something.

On top of all this, everyone I know (including myself) is anxious about this election day. In my mind, Obama supporters have far more to lose if McCain wins than the opposite way around. (After all, one of the advantages in America is being able to choose what to do with your OWN body. Seems simple enough.) It's such an important, tense day in American history, and I'll just be glad when I can absorb and deal with the decision.

It's not all bad, as I've made it sound. I'm preparing for a couple auditions in January that I'm very excited about. I'm getting freaking ORGANIZED for these auditions. :) And the wedding planning is still going well - I'm thrilled to be able to host an event where the purpose is to just hang out and be happy. (Well, except for the people we had to cut off the invite list so we could make our budget... they're not going to be happy.)

And, right now, I'm going to go running. It's been great for my body and my mind, to just let my stress wick right off me.

I brought up google images and searched for "stress", but didn't find anything nearly as appropriate as when I searched for "augh." This is a pretty accurate depiction of how I feel these days...

I've taken up compulsive list-making. For my personal practice, for cleaning the apartment, and just generally getting stuff done, including things for work, planning ahead meals (can't just hop over to the Chinese place anymore...) and finding I need to actually make appointments with myself for things like eating. This may be a sign that I'm too busy.

The good thing that I've taken from these past few weeks is my exercise routine. I think running is actually the only thing keeping me sane. I'm addicted to it - while I'm running, I don't have to do anything else. I just give my body natural energy and feel fitter for half an hour every other day. And now, on the days where I come home, frazzled and nearly in tears from the hectic-ness of my life, I find my brain telling me, "Hey, you should go running. You'll feel so much better."

Maybe the toned body will be enough to keep pushing me through this rough time. I don't think my schedule lets up until, oh, February.

Rocking life of a freelance musician.

Running, Day 4

It's cold now, in Oregon. The winter has come, which here means approximately 40 degrees in the evening and 60 degrees come about noon. It will be this way until June.

Damn, I love it here.

I decided, for the first time, to make use of the fitness room here at the apartment complex. (Read: a treadmill, elliptical, and weight machine crammed into a small room that hardly anyone uses.) And there are some serious advantages of working out there. I was able to pace myself appropriately, making sure I was running the same speed during all my sprints. There was indeed no one else in there this morning, so I had the room all to myself. And while I worried that the huge mirror in there might betray the wonderful ignorance that nature provides of what I look like when I run, I actually didn't look too bad - my form is improving the more I do it.

I did end up sweating a lot more in a temperature-controlled environment, however. Turns out when you go running in 45 degrees, the outdoors kind of take care of the sweat part. I also didn't get to explore my neighborhood as much, which I've really been enjoying lately. Maybe alternating the two scenes would keep my training up while giving me changes of sceneries.
***

My stomach makes no sense to me. In addition to gluten, it seems the list of stuff that makes me sick has expanded to milk, avacados, and now, possibly zucchini. I'm keeping a food diary to track what may be the culprit... perhaps the small amount of dairy is enough to make my intestines inflamed again, but it's so hard to give up my tiny chunk of swiss gruyere every day...

I've just realized I'm stepping into a potentially gross stream of thought. Let's just leave it at me being bummed about the avacados.

Teacher Gems

I did the math today: 14 years straight of private lessons. And during that time, I've learned a lot. The stuff that's stayed with me is mostly stuff that, uh, made me crazy. Or made me cry.

On weaknesses:
"I'm making up nicknames for all my students for what they need to work on most. You? You're Casey 'Intonation' Bozell."

On consistency:
"You know, when you're good, you're pretty good. But when you're bad, you're really bad."

On other teachers:
"Who's that guy you used to take with? The one who couldn't teach his way out of a paper bag?"

On perspective:
"When you first came here, Casey, you couldn't play a single note in tune."

On practice strategies:
"Did you even look at this piece this week?"

So when I have a student, who, after picking up the first line of Twinkle Twinkle brilliantly, claims the jump to the second line is way too hard, I want desperately to come up with a gem of my own. You know, something like, "SUFFER!!!"

I don't, however. I restrain myself.

I'm such a good teacher.

Running, Day 3

What a difference a week makes...

I found not nearly as much strain in my running this week, and I think there's a few things that are attributing to that. Obviously, my body is going to find it just slightly easier to run every time I do it, as it gets used to the pain and torture I'm ruthlessly inflicting on it. I also stretched more this morning before I went out (amidst plenty of pops in my muscles - turns out Swan Lake will tighten things up a bit!), and I ran in a quiet neighborhood to make sure I wasn't inhaling car exhaust the WHOLE time I was running. Again, no hacking up a lung, though I did feel a little soreness in my breathing near the end, which I'm pretty sure was because I was breathing in 40 degree air. Day 4 will start a new week, and new tests to my running apparel. Thank goodness I sprung for that sports bra!

In other news, today is my momma's birthday. I'm sure we'll end up bringing her a present when we get out to Knoxville for Thanksgiving, but I'm a little stumped as to what to get. My parents, each in their own way, are a little hard to shop for. They'll both be appreciative of whatever they receive, of course, but my mother, when asked, never wants to burden either me or my sister with the act of getting a gift, claiming our undying love or adoration will be enough gift for her.

Blahhdy blah blah. When really pressed, the best she can come up with is that maybe she needs a new pair of socks.

My father is very forthcoming with what he wants. And most of the time, what he wants starts with the words "circular table saw", combined with some model number and fancy brand name. These usually run in the $500 - $3000 category, and historically are second in gift request only to a high definition big screen television. My grandparents recently got one of those, and every time he's over at their place, suddenly all is right with the world. The Packers could be losing by three touchdowns late in the fourth quarter, and all that manages to come out of his mouth is "but... lookit the picture!"

Christmas, Dad's birthday, and Father's Day are always a mad dash between myself, my mom, and my sister to be the first to pick up the latest Madden Football or Metal Gear Solid game. I usually lose.

So I guess I will go with love and adoration at the moment, because truthfully, it's all I got. Hopefully, sometime within the next month, I'll find something that will just be PERFECT for Momma, and hear those beautiful words of gratefulness, "You didn't have to!"

My quest to become a runner

I have just finished day 2 of my running program... that's out of 27. It's been a dream of mine for a while to consider myself a runner. Right now my label might be someone who runs twice every year after she's forgotten how hard it is. Hardly a regular runner.

But I have plenty of reasons to continue. Back in June, I set a goal for myself to lose 20 pounds by Christmas, and miraculously, I'm halfway there. Just working out regularly shed 5, and the gluten free diet automatically took off another five. Then, for about three weeks, I found myself stuck. I have to up the ante just a bit. Enter week 1 of the Couch to 5K program, which involves a five minute warmup, and eight intervals of running for 60 seconds and walking for 90. It ends with a five minute walking cooldown.

Here's my experience as an official Runner so far:

Day 1: Felt really good until I realized I planned my run around the neighborhood badly, and my last running sprint ended up on the wrong way up a terrible hill. I spent the first couple minutes of my cooldown period heaving and feeling just awful. I then recovered, and found myself breathing relatively shallow breaths by the time I got back to the apartment. I then took a shower, and proceeded to hack stuff up for the next couple of hours. (Really attractive healthy girl. I felt like a smoker.) I realized my path had taken me right next to pretty busy roads, and I'm sure I had been inhaling exhaust and just general crazy cold air for the past half hour. After I cleared my lungs, however, I ended up feeling GREAT - so much so that I decided it was totally worth it to try running outside again, just take another path.

Free Day: I found I needed a little motivation to go ahead with day 2, so I bought some running pants - they totally paid off.

Day 2: Found a different, though still pretty hilly path to take today. I ended up finding a coffee shop within walking distance (what a nice weekend walk that would be for me and Tom!) and an eye care specialist, which, given the state of my eyes, I should have just cut my workout short and demanded an examination. Made a mental note to never run on Hermoso Way, as there's a dog that NOBODY'S watching that will run, barking at me, and follow me until I'm an appropriate distance from its house. (Doesn't yelling "Excuse me! Dog!" make the owners take notice these days?) At the very end of my run, I found a really sweet residential area that has barely any traffic and seems to go on for long enough to get my whole run in... I must explore this more on Sunday. Didn't take nearly as long to recover, though I made sure I ended my run on a flat surface. And though I was pretty sweaty, I have yet to start coughing. I'm assuming this is a good sign.

I am really excited I found that nice, set away neighborhood - that's where I'm going to start on Day 3. There's a big, scary hill pretty soon in to it, but if I make sure I'm running uphill in the middle - not the end - of my run, I feel confident that I can tackle it.

It's weird how this need to run has hit me - I think it's because for some reason, in Portland, EVERYONE is active. Even the stoner crowd wants to be outdoorsy. And for some reason, like staring at the group of smokers in the ditch behind the highschool, I want to know what it feels like to be in the "in" crowd.

My last word about this subject today: I have decided that I'm most certainly looking ridiculous as I run, and I am not yet ready to run with other people. So to all my Portland friends, if you're thinking to yourselves, "Hey! A new running buddy!" - think again. I'm still new here, I JUST got you all to like me. You think I'm going to let you see me heaving, panting, and wiping spit off my mouth while trying not to trip on my own two feet? Hell, no, not yet. Give me time!!

Thanks, Reva!

www.handbagplanet.com

I'm girly. Sorry.

THE DEBATE

Let's talk about it!

The good news: I believe I'm finally making progress in being able to swallow small pills... something I've struggled with my entire life!

The bad news: I've only really been able to succeed at this with Fresca.

Could all local doctor's offices and emergency rooms stock up on this for me? I'd really appreciate it.

Okay, so maybe it's no secret who I happen to be voting for in the upcoming election. This doesn't mean I'm not open to discussion, and if you aren't voting for this guy, you shouldn't be, either.

Now, if you're not voting, I don't think I'm in a place to discuss anything with you until you change your mind. I simply have no tolerance for that stance.

Oregon's pretty much already decided - we're a blue state through and through. So when I was cut off today by a pickup truck with a "McCain/Palin" sticker prominently displayed in the back window, my reactions were "Hey!" and, almost immediately, "Ew!!"

It's a knee-jerk reaction. I learned it from my parents, whose philosophy is, "If you ever vote for a Republican, just please don't tell us."

And then I began to feel bad that I reacted that way. Here's a fella - a Joe Six Pack, if you will - who I didn't even know. I wrapped up all his philosophies and ideals in one little glance made after the frustration of slamming on my brakes. It's not like I'VE never cut anyone off before, and it's not like I don't know what his frustration must feel like right now. After all, I was living in Colorado for the 2000 election. And heck, I may have run into him through my new exciting hobby of political blog reading. He could very well be this guy.

We live in a culture where it's considered impolite to talk about politics in normal conversation with people we don't know very well. I've never understood that part of our society. Isn't it far more inefficient to NOT talk about it? How can we ever get things done? In fact, I've always suspected that it's not actually impolite, so much that one American doesn't want to look another American they're kind of fond of in the face and tell them they think everything they stand for is wrong. So we've come up with these labels of Republicans and Democrats to swiftly stop a conversation before it starts. To identify as one is supposed to tell anyone and everyone everything they need to know about where you stand. As if opinions and rational thought aren't fluid things that are SUPPOSED to change and be thought through. Or is that just my Left Wing Rationalism talking??

The age of blogging is an age of change, and I'm so happy. Because, much like breaking up with someone, it's so easy to put your political discussions in written form and leave it out for someone to read than to actually seek out a person-to-person conversation and debate face-to-face. And that's good enough for me.

It's a hot topic. And I'm excited to discuss it with anyone who's willing. Including that pickup truck driver.

Okay, I'll admit... I'm not sure this is completely healthy. I wake up in the morning, and I'm friggin' HUNGRY. But if I wait for a little while, the hunger pangs go away, and I can work out a little bit. Theoretically, I burn more calories this way, because I'm not busy trying to burn off breakfast. But after spending the last few months putting the microscope up to my digestive system, it worries me a little bit to mess with it like this. After all, I just got it working again.

But I'm kind of excited to start this running program again. Robert Ullery designed a wonderful podcast that follows Cool Running's "Couch to 5K" program. He sets it to (cheesy) techno music and tells you when to start running and walking at different intervals. It seems really effective, if I can just stick to it.

Besides, I tried on my wedding dress again, and while I admittedly look pretty good, I'd like it to fit comfortably on my wedding day. This means losing a few pounds - not a dramatic amount - and the best way to do this healthily by June seems to be putting myself on a reasonable but not dramatic exercise plan. Running seems to fit the bill...

I think I'll start next week. You know, after I have a chance to buy a few more sports bras.

Question... can you read this??

For the past few days in the pit, during our Traviata run, those crossovers to the ballet in the violin section have been practicing a huge book filled with pages that look like this. A recording of said practicing would be much more effective, but I'll attempt to lay it out here in blog form:
fragment of music played
"What?"
two notes played
"What the hell is that note?"
A slide up to an unknown and unwelcome position
"Waitaminute. One, two, three... that's a G sharp?? Shoot!"

Thus begins our run of Swan Lake. And thus continues a pattern of somewhat fruitless practicing and blaming of my glasses prescription that's two years old.