Cristin Cooper, NBC and Bode Miller

Dear NBC Sports,

I'm one of the fortunate ones who didn't have to witness the interview of Bode Miller by Cristin Cooper last night.  Thankfully.  I could, of course, find it on YouTube, but I won't bother giving your news "item" any more internet hits.  Enough of my friends DID see it, their opinions mesh with all that I've read about it, and from all of that - I've been able to formulate an opinion: one which I'm sure you won't care much for.

I don't totally blame the reporter.  She showed pure thoughtlessness, and horrible reporting skills by pushing and pushing and pushing, and not recognizing a *human* moment.  All in the name of trying to force an "emotional moment" out of a clearly distressed athlete.  

I DO blame NBC for not editing this train wreck of an interview, shortening it, and conveying SOME emotion, while protecting the athlete, just a bit.  Is that really too much to ask?

Is this the direction "reporting" is headed?  NBC is not FoxNews, or the National Enquirer.  Or is it?  I used to think NBC was a hallowed name, a legend.  An organization which could rise above the "rag mags" in the checkout line of the grocery store.  Clearly, I was wrong.  How sad for news organizations the world over.  Or at least in the U.S.

Shame on YOU, NBC.  Shame on you.  You could learn a great deal of dignity, grace and professionalism from the athletes you're exploiting.  Instead of trying for an emotional moment, how about trying for a HUMAN MOMENT?  Be the news organization with a heart and a pulse, not just a bunch of robots sniffing for blood and headlines.

Holly R

I apologize. Sort of...

To every motorist who's nearly run me down, sideswiped me, cut me off, or called me a bad name on my bike: I offer this half-*ssed apology for flipping you off, or yelling at you.

I promise to extend a full, sincere apology when you start fully paying attention behind the wheel, instead of half-*ssing it!
:o)

Weekend warriors

I have a raging head cold.  R A G I N G.  But since it's still just above my shoulders, I figured that I should get out and ride both days over the weekend.  Especially since the weather was so nice and who knows how long that'll last...

Wow, what a bunch of boorish riders out.  BOTH days.  Many have a pet peeve of wheel suckers.  I say, if you can hold my wheel and dodge the snot rockets (allergies + cold = messy), my wheel is yours.  What annoys me more than anything is when people take themselves so seriously that they can't bother to call out "on your left", "great day, isn't it?" or just plain "hi" when passing.  When did every other cyclist become "the enemy"?  I found this was exclusive to men.  ALL weekend.  WTF?

Now, with a head cold, I'm doing the good old, Z1/Z2 ride.  Trying to keep my heart rate at a reasonable level, trying to get outside, and trying to get some fresh air and exercise.  I expect to be passed, a lot.  And I was.  But I swear to you, not a single person said a thing to me on Saturday (only one person did on Sunday).  Both days had interesting surprises, so let's just start with Saturday.

On my way home, on Foothill (home of the Foothill Olympics), I catch a gaggle of men at a traffic light.  I wasn't sure if they were all together, or what, but most of them were dressed in street clothes:  shorts, t-shirts and tennis shoes.  One guy had clip-in shoes.  Frankly, I don't care, I just noticed.  A few were wobbly, so I tried to roll up by them and get closer to the front, so I didn't get entangled once everyone started wobbling forward.  I got through and was happily in Z2 when one of those guys buzzed me.  He never said a word.  But I could tell by his body language that he was turning himself INSIDE OUT.  Hey buddy, good for you, but I'm in Z2...  He got further up the road, but Foothill being Foothill, he got stopped at a light.  I got closer.  I got stopped at a light.  Then he hit another red that I caught green, and the next thing you know, I'm on top of him.  Why do people ride the white line?  I never, ever assume I'm fastest, and stay over to the right to get out of the way (esp for distracted motorists who sometimes drive the white line because I guess the car lane isn't wide enough for their bad driving or something).  I digress.  Dude is flailing and as Phil would say, "He's all over his machine", and with that, he's kind of all over the bike lane too.  I check the car lane:  clear.  So I pass him, making sure to squeak out (my voice is going in and out with this cold):  "On your left".  I roll on.  Shoot, out of zone!  So I slow up a bit. Well, the guy is flailing along behind me, trying to catch and pass me.  Seriously?  I check and wait till he's about 1/2 a bike length back, then I just dropped the hammer on him.  Didn't sprint.  Didn't attack.  Just drilled it and rode away from him.  "Pass me now, b*tch".  :o)  Z5 does not equal Z2, sorry coach, but that boy needed to be schooled.  I hit the turn lane and rode home, gently.  Shortly afterwards, I dropped my cough drop, grabbed a handful of front brake and nearly ate it.  Oops.  It's a cough drop for crying out loud!

Sunday was more of the same, but I forced myself to not be so damned competitive.  I ran into two other guys at Woodside when I was getting water that afternoon, and all 3 of us commiserated about the same thing:  rude riders.  I even heard/watched the one compliment a guy on his bike.  Dude just ignored him and rode away.  ???  There's a chance he didn't hear him, or a chance he was just an unpleasant person.  But I don't understand that mentality.  If someone waves, you wave back.  If someone nods, you nod back.  You let a rider know you're passing and it doesn't have to be mean or sarcastic.  A simple "hi" is sufficient.

When did bike riders become the enemy to OTHER BIKE RIDERS?

Heck with 'em all.  I still had an enjoyable weekend on the bike.  But I also still have this cold.  Big bummer!

Why?

I have the most difficult roommate in Silicon Valley.  He continually messes with my stuff, much to my dismay.  I just went to turn my, MY stereo on.  He had unplugged it.  Sometime between last week and today, he unplugged it.  To save power, I assume.  Every time that happens I have to re-program the damned thing and it annoys the sh*t out of me.  He's re-programmed my coffee pot before too.  And he's unplugged my stereo before.  Despite my repeatedly asking him to STOP TOUCHING MY STUFF, he does it just to be a prick, I swear.

I think I should unplug the stove.  And the microwave.  And the garage door opener.  He has no TV any longer or I'd unplug it too.  

WTF?

Team 7-Eleven Book Talk on 2/23/2012

Bicycle Outfitter, Los Altos, CA, 2/23/2012 @ 7 p.m. I'd been looking forward to this talk/book signing for weeks. Ever since my friend from church invited me. A chance to hear Davis Phinney talk about the good old days. I'd heard he was funny, poignant. I couldn't wait!

Then work got busy. Out-of-control busy. The night fast approached, and my workload increased. I freaked. In the back of my mind, I hoped I could make it, but reality told me that it wasn't going to happen. Just too much to do, with impending deadlines, and running out of time.

Fortunately, Gary sent me an email Thursday afternoon. Was I still coming? Oh man. "Things aren't looking good. I will try to make it, but probably not.". Fortunately, he wouldn't take "no" for an answer.

I grabbed everything on my desk, packed it up, stopped at the pharmacy on the way home, ate dinner, took the dog out and went to the event for awhile. I figured I could leave early and work from home when I was done.

Once there, I didn't want to leave! There was a short video about the team. Racing. Commentary. Video of Jim Ochowicz with a mustache. Phil Liggett with hair!!! (I know!) Stories of how 7-11 made it to Europe. How they were blamed for the crashes. How they would arrive minutes before the start of the race (oh, how I know how that feels... ugh!). Davis was apparently in rare form and was so damned funny! The entire room was cracking up and the laughter was contagious. Davis told us a story (one of MANY) about an Italian race where he got dropped with another few guys. He was left with a backpack of his stuff and had to find a way to the finish. He was with a Belgian, who opted to ride to the finish (as annunciated by Davis in a Belgian accent, "I'll ride to the feenish"), but he tried to find another way with the few stragglers left with him. They found a "freeway", but weren't allowed on it due to the toll road. So Davis asked permission to look at the traffic coming the other way (after waiting for quite some time), and to his horror, after all the time it took to arrive at the road, the team cars were screaming back to the town they were all staying in! They were stranded. Luckily, someone saw him, or the toll booth operator reported a crazy American at the toll booth, and a team car came back to retrieve him. One guy left with him, begged for a ride back to the town they were staying in!

Of course, Davis told the story about a thousand times funnier than I can relate, and the room was in tears from all of the laughter. Quite the amusing story.

He also told a really great story about Bob Roll, who has always gotten on my last good nerve. The story changed my perception of Mr. Roll, 100%. Bob had learned perfect Italian much faster than the rest of the team, and in a cafe, some Italians were fascinated with the Americans. They kept asking Bob who was the leader of the team, or the captain. Bob's response: "We're all the team leaders." I rescind most every disparaging thing I've thought about Bob. Except the hand gestures. Those still get on my nerves. :)

I hated so much to leave. But I had to work at home. HAD TO. I bought a book, and left it with my friend to get signed. And then I went home and worked till 10:30.

This was a night I wont' soon forget. Very, very entertaining. Thankfully, I stepped away from the work and deadline madness to attend this talk. Totally worth it. If they come to your town to sell the book and do this talk? GO. Don't hesitate. You won't regret it. You'll laugh yourself silly and walk away with a renewed passion for the sport, and a massive appreciation for what those guys went through all those years ago. Paving the way for the newer Americans in the Grand Tours.

Bravo!

Update on the Weight Loss Challenge

Wow, I sort of let this slide. Made it through Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, without going apesh*t with food. The weight was coming off so well that I had to re-shuffle the goals and stretch goals. By the end of the year, I'd eclipsed my original goal and was approaching my stretch goal.

I did something unheard of. On New Year's Day, with my new, lighter butt, I opted to race the San Bruno Hill Climb. I know. I'm not a climber. But the forecast was unbelievable. Chilly, but dry and sunny. On New Years? That race has been held in rain, fog, freezing temps... I got shelled at the start, but I had to climb on my own terms. I'd never even climbed San Bruno, so I had no clue what lay ahead. I let the group go, and climbed alone. I ended up with some pretty stellar power numbers, which felt really good! Of course, climbing isn't magically easier with less poundage - I just go faster.

So unfair.

Here it is the end of February. And I keep dropping weight, which is now kind of freaking me out. I haven't weighed what I do right now in 12 years. Since my last bodybuilding contest. My old skinny jeans are so effing big, it's just not even funny. I bought a new pair of jeans in late October, and they're even kind of big. I have 3 more pair of skinny jeans that still fit, but dammit. Now my underwear are getting big. This is getting expensive.

In any case, it's been a really great experience. I've learned that food is a crutch. A crutch that a lot of people struggle with. I've been one of those people for most of my life. I pray that I can maintain that switch I have in my head: that switch where I can just view food as sustenance. Really, that's all it is. We attach a lot of significance to food, meals, eating. And a lot of people have health issues, weight problems, eating disorders. At the end of the day, we need calories to survive. Food, in its simplest form is just calories. I like my calories to taste good, but I've learned to listen to my body these past 5 months. I eat when I'm hungry. I try to stop when I'm full. I stopped eating crap. No junk. I have an occasional cookie. Today I ate 3 Girl Scout Thin Mints. But they didn't taste as good as they used to. A side-effect of stopping the junk intake. But I feel great. Really great. My body feels clean, healthy, and light. :) For the first time in 12 years...

I think I'll stay here for awhile. A LONG while.

The weight loss challenge is ON!

Every year for the past 4 or 5 years, my friend MaryEllen and I embark on a weight-loss program. Always begins at the official end of road season, the glorious "off season". Last year, we started it a bit early, as I had surgery and wanted to start the week of the surgery, due to the sheer volume of snack food that was available to me at work. I needed 2 weeks away from all of that crap before I could really resist it. That worked. It only took 1 week of longing, sideways glances before I was able to steer clear, and continue down the road to a lighter body.

Well, the challenge takes us into the holidays (accck), and into the new year, when racing begins all over again. Both of us reached reasonable losses, but neither achieved the lauded: GOAL WEIGHT.

Here we are in October. Both of us are at the same weight as January. Yeah, generally good not to gain it all back again, but this is the dreaded plateau. Ugh. For nearly 10 months, maintaining has been pretty easy. The first 3 weeks were fine. But I didn't drop a single pound. ME fluctuated a bit, but was generally heading in the right direction. My body is stubborn. Really stubborn. I actually gained a pound one week (sh*t), but quickly got rid of it again... What to do now? I had to employ serious tactics in order to start dropping weight:

• Restrict ANY and ALL junk (stopped eating any candy,chocolate and/or chips)
• Learn how to go hungry without getting into that weird "I'm so hungry I could eat my shoe" place... That's a fine line - trust me.
  
• Employ drastic measures: my brain

Back when I was bodybuilding, the diet was the worst part for me. The WORST. I could lift weights, run, do whatever for however long, but when it came to dropping the necessary body fat needed to compete? Just shoot me. I remember being at shows, and someone would step out into the harsh lights, and the first thing that came to mind: "Damn. He/she should have dieted for another 8 weeks...". I never wanted anyone to say that about me! You're standing on stage, wearing 4 teensey triangles of fabric, under the harshest lights EVER (makes dressing rooms look weak, in comparison), and the last thing you want is for someone to see that Snickers bar you scarfed down a few weeks ago, planted firmly on your butt cheek. Sounds harsh, but it was a tough sport. Nobody cared what you looked like 6 months ago, how far you'd progressed, it only mattered what you looked like, for those 5 minutes (or so) you were standing on stage in a bikini. Nothing else mattered. You had to have a really thick skin... Totally unhealthy, for sure, and I blame that lifestyle for making it so darned hard for me to drop any weight now that I have a normal, healthy diet, but it was necessary to be that way for the sport. Of course, I had no butt back then, and was utterly unable to sit at the bus stop the last month or so before a contest, because any fat stores were just gone. Pfft. Just like that. But my brain was the most effective tool in my arsenal for dropping weight back then.

I'm using it once again. Much like the fear of being seen naked, the fear of "if I put this in my mouth, where will it end up on my body?" and "do I really NEED that? Or am I just wanting to eat something?"... Hey, it works for me. The weight is coming off now, FINALLY! All it takes for me is that first pound to be lost, then I'm on a roll... I won't eat the roll, but I'm on one. :o) And this time, I'm going for that elusive: super-stretch goal. I'm just 2 pounds from my goal as I write this, and it will be 4 to that weight which I've not weighed in over 10 years. When I get there, the first thing I want to go do is climb some big hill on my bike. Then I'll probably have to buy some new jeans, because even the skinny jeans are starting to be less and less snug...

Even using a scale, jeans are the better indicator of weight loss. They either fit, or they don't. No getting around it! I may have to go buy a new pair or two sooner than the holidays... Now that's an awesome dilemma!

Why I dont' like riding with non-racers

Okay. Not really non-racers. Mostly encompassing anyone who doesn't have a clue as to how to ride in a pack. I don't give a crap how SMART you are, if you don't know group etiquette, you are not someone I wish to ride with.

The first day of my new job, my boss introduces me to the group. They find out I ride, and I immediately get invited to a fund-raising ride on 10/1. "Sure, I'm in" I say. "But it's 50 miles", I'm told. "Yeah, so. That's fine." They had no idea...

As the weeks progress towards the goal, I'm continually talked to by the ring leader about how many centuries and double-centuries he's ridden. And I'm a bit nervous. It's only 50 miles, but he's talking 18-mph averages and I haven't raced since June. I'm way prone to leg cramps, so I'm thinking, "how can I keep up without cramping?" I settled on drinking a ton of water to stave off the cramps.

I get up a bit late on the morning of the ride. I'm tired from working for a living! 7 months of not working has totally ruined me for getting up and being someplace every day, and being PRODUCTIVE. I proceed to hurry to shower, eat, have a crapload of coffee and find the start of the ride. I estimate I'm leaving the house 20 min late. ACCCCCKKKKKKKK.

I arrive 15 min late. UGH!! I can get ready FAST, so I jam on my knee warmers, grab food, pump my tires, helmet and shoes on, set everything and am on my way to the start like 6 min later.... I saw one guy when I got there, so I head to reg, get my number and find the group. I only find 3 of the 7 others.

We head out on the ride, which is mostly uneventful. But I get the sense that 2 of the 4 of us aren't *that* used to riding in a group. We finally re-group at the last rest stop, and head out for the final few miles.

Then as we're crossing Monterey Highway, one guy gets a flat. So I go back. It takes him a LONG time to change that effing flat. I start giggling and say, "How many engineers does it take to change a flat?" because it was funny, but it was apparent that he was 'done for the day'. DONE. He gets it fixed, and starts to mount the bike, leaving the tube lying on the side of the road!!! LITTERBUG!!! I pick it up and hand it to him, and say, "You gotta take this along to toss it." I'm sure he hates me.

Off we go. I don't want the one guy to be last all day, so I let him go in front and give him a bit of room, based on his previous bad bike-handling skills. Apparently, one man had left his seat bag open, and stuff was starting to fall out. I noticed a tire lever on the side of the road, and when I looked up, the one guy was DEAD STOPPED, directly in front of me. UGH! I slammed on the brakes, managed to avoid slamming into his rear wheel with my front, but the back end of my bike came up and I endo'd. Fortunately for me, he had a saddle bag attached to his pannier rack over the rear wheel, which had his jacket in it, because I FACE PLANTED on that bag, and then continued my slow-speed endo, ending up on the ground, bike still firmly attached to my feet. I'm laying on the ground, still attached to my bike, I can't get up, and I'm confused why someone would dead stop for a tire lever - (it's an inanimate object! It's not as if it's a puppy and it's going to dart into traffic!!!!!). Luckily I didn't get hurt. I scared the crap out of one man who saw the entire thing. If he'd not had that bag on the pannier? I probably would have broken my nose, because I landed left side of my nose and cheek on that bag. My left sunglasses lens had an imprint of my cheek on it (thank God for shatter-proof sports glasses). I had not a scratch on me. My bar tape got a small tear in it, but that was it. I guess if anyone should have fallen, it should have been the one who KNOWS how to crash and not get hurt (me), but damn. Needless to say, after that, I refused to get within 20 FEET of the guy who braked, and I'd been about 3 or so feet behind him at the time of the wreck. Cripes. We were only about 4 miles from the finish, but still.

My neck is a bit sore, but nothing else. I have a few bruises. I can't post the picture of the one, because it's way too close to my kitty, but it's a pretty good mark. A couple on my knees, but literally nothing else. Okay, I admit it. My nose is still a bit sore. And frankly: it should be. Holy crap.

It could have been worse. Much worse. But I don't know what I'll do next year... full face helmet?

FINALLY, I have a job!

A bit behind, but I got a job. Finally. And what happens? 7 months of not-a-single-offer. Not even a crap one. And then what goes on? I get two offers. At once. It was awful. I know, I know. "You should have a choice!" and blah blah blah, but it sucked. I won't get into it, and sometimes you still wonder if you made the right choice, but I believe I did.

And now. How the hell do people do a full-time job, ride, grocery shop and keep up on life? Holy moly. I'm so freaking tired. ALL THE TIME. I'm just hoping that my "schedule" kicks back in. And soon!

Tomorrow marks 4 weeks of employment. And my benefits just kicked in last Saturday. That will be important in the next post...

Bruised Bananas

Ah, the bruised banana. Much like the too-soft avocado, which is really only good for guacamole, the bruised banana is actually good for eating. To a certain point. Once it reaches that point, it's really just good for banana bread. But don't discount the bruised banana. Good banana bread isn't truly good with the elusive PERFECT BANANA. Good banana bread NEEDS the bruised bananas of the world.

Which brings up my point.

The job market. It pretty much sucks right now. I've been looking for a job since January. That's SEVEN months, tomorrow, since I lost my job. Dang. And I haven't been sitting around counting my cash. Well, I've been watching it disappear, but I digress. I've been applying, and interviewing, and applying and after countless applications and interviews, I haven't even gotten a LOUSY offer. Believe me. I'd take a low offer, or even a contract position, just to keep my brain from turning to mush. I need to feel productive!

I've had some close calls. One, in which, the hiring manager was checking references, asking about salary requirements, and throwing about titles. Only to do a 180 three weeks later and say she wanted something completely different. Talk about frustrating. What's actually MORE frustrating is that I'm finding that she never actually contacted any of my references. Just kept giving them the run-around. Much like I was given.

Last week, I got more bad news. I'd applied for a job about 2 weeks ago. Actually, 2 weeks ago yesterday. That went well enough that I got a request for a phone screen with the recruiter. Those are usually fun, and give you insight into the company, while they get some info about you. It turned out to be a very entertaining interview, mostly due to my getting caught with food in my mouth. TWICE. After I got off the phone with her, she called back. Yes, I had ANOTHER mouth full of food. Good Lord. I really don't eat 24x7, but it was funny. That was a request for a phone interview with the hiring manager the same afternoon. Totally open for it. It seemed to go well, with a few misses, mostly just due to my rustiness on intense DB operations. He indicated it went well, and the follow-up email the next day indicated it as well, as they were requesting a face-to-face last week.

Fast forward to last week. No word. Nothing Monday. I figured that if I hadn't heard by noon Tuesday, I'd ping them to find out. I got my answer Tuesday. "On second thought, the hiring manager felt your DB skills weren't good enough, so he doesn't want to pursue it any further." UGH. Really? Such a shame, because this is totally fixable - immersion in the DB world causes things to come back very quickly, but alas.... it was not meant to be.

This made me think of the banana theory. Trying to find a job is like online dating. If you're not perfect, the date passes, or the employer passes. Does any perfect candidate exist, in any realm?

I felt like the lowly bruised banana. The banana with a small bruise, which lies in the banana bin, being continually picked over for the perfect, yellow banana. Only 1 in 1,000 truly appreciates the bruised banana, knowing darned well that it makes the perfect banana bread.

Real Roadkill Ride

Sorry, no actual pics! Just a cruise from Woodside Town Hall to Los Altos and back, with a few loops in Palo Alto (where I kept wanting to count one dead skunk, multiple times, due to the "loop" I was riding...).

- 1 dead skunk (pee-yew)
- 2 dead squirrels
- 1 dead something-or-other (it was picked pretty clean and was unable to be identified)

Let's just say the dead skunk did NOT look like this --->

Roadkill Ride

Met a friend of mine (IronCLM) in Livermore yesterday for a ride. Started late @11 a.m., but gave me the chance to sleep in!

I think the East Bay must be tops in road kill for the Bay Area. I see a lot of dead stuff on the Peninsula and around the South Bay but not like East Bay. I admit that I got distracted by all of the live, and CRAZY squirrels racing next to us, across fields, across the roads (EGAD), and was also distracted by their "cute factor"... Why do their tails twitch when they run? I know. A squirrel is a rodent. But it's a cute rodent. :o)

Many mangled little bodies out there. So much so, that I lost count. I did not see any dead snakes, which was a relief since I saw a baby dead one around here the other day (forget where).


I did get a pretty cool pic of the a few turbine blades for the windmills. They were parked along 580 and holy crap. They're HUGE. I got a photo with my camera phone of a man walking next to them - for scale.
I'm glad I grabbed the pics, as I nearly fell over riding past 'em! I just wonder how much work it is to put a windmill up, esp given the size of these puppies. They don't look this huge from a distance, for sure!

All in all, a pretty darned good day, even if I did lose track of the roadkill. But dang, it was warm. I drank FOUR bottles out there!!!!!!

TGIF!

This has been an insane week, to say the least. I'm exhausted from applying for jobs, interviewing on the phone, and studying for the phone interviews! This week alone, I applied to 9 jobs, and had phone interviews with 4 different companies, one on each day this week (except today. Yay!). Yesterday, consisted of two phone interviews, with the SAME company (One screen, with their recruiter. The 2nd: a technical phone interview with the hiring manager.). Usually I have a few days to prepare for the tech interviews (as in the one I have next Wednesday afternoon - I'll start that later today and work on this weekend and early next week). This time, I had just a few hours.

My average rate of return on applications has been about 20%. Last week fit this model perfectly: I sent out 10 applications, heard back from 2. This week has had slightly higher numbers, with 9 out, 3 in. 30%. WHOOT. I guess the days of hearing from everyone are long gone... sigh.

In any case, since I have the "day off", I am going for a ride! I was supposed to do this ride yesterday, but hadn't accounted for the doubling-up interviewing - finding a job is more important! Then I get to ride all weekend! I haven't done a "roadkill count" ride for awhile, so maybe I'll try that! Have seen lots of flattened squirrels and black birds, and even a little, squished snake these past few weeks...

Enjoy the weekend everyone!

The wedding of my friend!

The last weekend of July was the road trip down to Long Beach for the wedding of my good friend, Leilani. I have to say that I was so glad that she found her now-husband! The first time I met him was after driving to Long Beach and sitting in awful traffic. They came to pick me up and took me to dinner (and for a much-needed Margarita!). To see them together, was very comforting. She was just glowing. Their personalities are different, yet they mesh so well.

During the pre-wedding picture session, I got this picture of the Bride with my camera phone. She looked so beautiful, and SO happy. Whenever I look at this picture, or even think about that day, I smile. Yay!

I should have gotten a picture of all of the bobby pins we pulled out of her hair that evening, after all of the festivities. OMG. If I had 50 in my hair (I counted), she had at least double that, if not greater!

No wedding ever goes off without a hitch, and this was no different. Fortunately, it wasn't a disaster, and too bad we didn't have a person videoing it. America's Funniest Home Videos, for sure. During the ceremony, a friend of the Bride came onto the stage (the wedding was upstairs, but due to the Bride's challenging height, the decision was made to build a stage on top of the upstairs, and let me tell you: we were WAY up there!) to do his reading. Not 20 seconds later, his almost 4-year old son bounds up on stage behind him. I'm horrified. The Pastor is horrified. The bridesmaid next to me says under her breath (something to the effect of), "Oh no he didn't. Uh, uh. Mmm, mmm, mmm." Then, he moves over behind the column of the hoopah (half Jewish/half Christian wedding) and peeks around it, while holding it. OMG. I'm sure we were all thinking, "Don't let him knock it over...". By now, the Bride and Groom see him and are equally horrified. The kids Dad doesn't do anything, because he is reading! I look into the audience and don't see his Mom (she was outside, as the youngest was having a meltdown). Then, he moves over in front of us bridesmaids, and is kind of dancing. I am hearing, "Uh, uh. Mmm, mmm, mmm" and I'm trying not to crack up. The urge to laugh was unbearable. I'm worried the kid is either going to step on the Bride's dress, knock something over, or fall off the stage and we'll have to call 911 in the middle of the ceremony. I bent down a few times to whisper to him to go stand by his Father, but that would last about 2 seconds and he'd be back! I finally, panicked, reached down, grabbed him by the hand, whispered to stay next to me, and held him close, hoping he'd not start crying. The only thing that I could think of was to try to control him. When his Dad was done, I handed him off. No crying, no 911 calls, no stepping on the Brides dress, nothing knocked over - crisis averted!

After giving the speech, accompanying the bride to all of the tables, keeping the Bride calm pre and post-ceremony, and running around checking for cakes with one of the other bridesmaids (there were 18 cakes! We were on the hunt for carrot cake, and the white cake with lemon curd and fruit!!), I was just exhausted! Definitely more work to be the Maid of Honor, than the Bride. At least what I remember of it, since it was so long ago!

It was truly a memorable day! And I'll just keep looking at this picture of Leilani smiling, and smile as wide as a house. I'm so proud of her for finding "The One", and for just being herself. She's a great friend, very generous, very patient, and very loving. And she deserved to have someone who'd treat her like the Princess she IS!

For fun, some hair and dress pics, including one of the crazy amount of bobby pins I pulled out of my hair. My poor scalp was so sore!!!

Word of the day: C R E E P Y

I haven't been blogging for awhile, so I'd forgotten all the bells & whistles that make the Blogger tool useful and fun. I think useful is more appropriate for what I found yesterday...

You see, you can tell how many have been viewing your entries, and what web-site or method they arrived at your blog. This is kind of interesting, TILL you find the following:

I'm presuming a female was at the other end of the computer on this one... Someone arrived at my blog by Googling "my_first_name + my_last_name + slept with my husband". WHAT? I know that I have a pretty common name, but that totally creeped me out. Anyone who's ever had a spouse cheat on them (me) would never, ever do something like that! And here the person found me, and I list my location, etc. I know there was another bad person out there with my same name, as she was on the "no fly" list a few Christmases ago, and made my boarding a flight home for the holidays a nightmare. Maybe that one sleeps with others husbands too?

In any case, it prompted me to remove my last name from my profile. I may go through and scrub any other blog entries that refer to it as well.

Road Trip!

Bette, getting her nap on.

On Thursday, the dog, my bike and I took a road trip to Long Beach for a wedding. Ordinarily, Miss Bette will stare at me, for the entire trip. This time, she was pooped. Must be her advanced age (11, that's 77 in people years). This was the rare nap she managed to pull off (and let's not discuss how I managed to snap a photo with my camera phone while driving down I-5, m-kay? I know. HANDS FREE!!!), before the freeway got really bumpy. Those semi trucks sure do mess up the pavement. Filling-jarring bumps. Bette voiced her disapproval with many well-timed, LOUD snorts. Sorry, nothing I can do.

Took longer than I wanted (longer than the dog wanted, for sure) to get there, and the stupid Google maps failed by telling me to take I-5 all the way to 710. I should have taken the time to look myself and I swore I'd have been better off with 5 to 405 to 710.

Made it, safely. Checked into room, and went to dinner with the very-soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Silverman for a well-deserved dinner, and MARGARITA!!!

Road Trip - part 2

Ugh. If I EVER choose to complain about traffic in the Bay Area, I'll just look at this picture. This was on I-5, around 7 at night. I was so tired of this sh*t. Every few miles, BLAMMO! Brake lights and stoppage. Not to mention the bone and filling-jarring WUMP, WUMP, WUMP on the slabs of concrete on the freeway. I know the state of CA isn't broke because of all of the freeway work, because this is definitely worse than 680 in the East Bay, and I swore I thought it was the crappiest, bumpiest freeway in the entire state. I see that I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

On my way home, I took I-405. You'd think it would be gentle and nice on a Sunday. Well, it was, for quite awhile, then it jammed up. I should have gotten a picture of that for the memory banks... 6 lanes (or so) in both directions, totally gridlocked. I'd kill myself if I had to drive on this stuff every day. Really. Couldn't deal with it. Once I-405 cleared up, it was only severely jammed going Southbound, near the Getty museum. But then... I entered I-5 northbound... Holy crap. I think I would enjoy my stays in SoCal if I chose to leave on a Monday morning, at 5 a.m. I think it must be like this often on Sundays... It is every Sunday I've ever been on it. And through a serious mis-judgment, I missed getting onto the truck bypass for NB I-5. Man, I regretted that... I very nearly drove over the curb, but thought otherwise. Good thing. Not 2 minutes later, a CHP passed by. I'm sure that would have been a fat ticket.

I ended up taking a detour (one of two), and taking highway 14 towards Santa Clarita. I knew I could sneak back through onto I-5, and even though the mileage was greater, it beat sitting in the God-awful traffic jam on I-5! I got off at Newhall, then followed to Railroad, then I think Magic Mountain Parkway. By the time I got back on I-5, it was smooth sailing (for awhile)!

This time, the dog slept nearly the entire drive home. :o)

ugh

Too hot outside!  Gradually ramping up to 90 something would be nice, no?

TGIF

1:30 on a Friday. I don't want to be in the office. I want to be outside, or home doing laundry, or taking a nap. Or heck, even grocery shopping, which I have to do on my way home, else I cannot eat tonight or have a cup of coffee before I drive out to BF Egypt for a bike race. Better stop at the store...

Lots been going on. Finally took the plunge to FaceBook and as I was warned: what a time suck! Egad. I swore off any more of those dumb FB quizzes, but sometimes they really ARE fun. Especially on a day like today!

The move was fine. A rough transition though. Probably harder on my dog than me. I've lived alone for her entire life. Then I move into a multi-level town-home, with a male roommate (just a roommate, trust me), I take the dog's couch away and force her to be a dog and sleep in her dog bed and not on the furniture anymore, and the roommate is grumpy. Oh dear God. He is exactly like my step-Dad. Just a younger version. How can that be? Did I not learn enough life lessons living at home till I was 18? Jeesh. My dog gets a wee bit out of sorts when she's around my loud, obnoxious, negative, grumpy Dad, and we only visit once every few years. You can imagine her horror to having to live with that on a daily basis. She had an accident in the house the first week or so. Yikes! She NEVER has accidents. Ever. I was grateful for the carpet cleaner I'd purchased a few years ago, so I cleaned it up and vowed to keep her in my bedroom while I was out of the house. She'd had runny poop for almost the entire first week, and now she'd stopped drinking water. So I drowned her food with water, since her appetite seemed unaffected and this was my way of forcing water into her system. Well, now it's over a week, and I'm packed and ready to go race my MTB at Sea Otter. I decided to take the dog with me, just so I could keep an eye on her, and our last visit to the grass produced a bunch of bloody poops. Not good. I ended up calling the vet in tears, and begged them to get her in. Turned out it was just nerves, but she was dehydrated and they gave her a big shot of fluid under her skin, and sent us home with a bottle of doggy valium. She mostly slept it off and was a bit leary of the roommate for a long time (she's only started to come around him now, 4 months later!), but she was fine.

The roommate situation was pretty tough for me too. I've lived alone for almost 2 decades, and the last person I lived with was my ex-husband, Satan. Well, he had a name, but I prefer the nickname. It's more suitable. 4 months later, those things have mostly worked out. I still think he's the most OCD person on the planet, but I know him better and can give him grief for the stuff that used to completely freak me out. However, I came home the other night from work, and for whatever reason, he was in the office downstairs where we put bikes. He opened the door just as I was going to open it and there he stood: in a speedo. Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!! To his credit, he did try to cover up, but I'm sort of wondering what the hell he was doing in there, and he left in his car a few min later. I'm really hoping he put pants on first. I don't think I'll ask about that, because I really just don't want to know...

The red stapler guy is out of the picture. Completely. He apparently decided that he didn't want to see me anymore, but instead of being a man and talking to me about it, he just vanished. Not the full-on vanish, but the wimpy, "if I disappear and stop calling her, maybe she'll get it" type of vanishing act. Really disappointing in how he handled that one. I'm not so fragile that I'd fall apart and I had my reservations as it was. Fortunately for that, I wouldn't let myself get "too close" to him.

At the end of June, my Dad went into the hospital. Turned out, not only did he have a bad heart (which we all knew), but it was now only operating at 25% capacity. Add to that: he's 82. And add to that: he now had an infected gall bladder that needed to come out. So I get this news and I'm pretty shook up about it. And I have to race that weekend. So, not only did I get heat exhaustion racing at Benicia in 100-and-some-change degree temps (I threw up AND got the chills... yummy), I had to mentor the Burlingame Criterium by myself at 7:50 the next morning. And I felt like asssssss. I was sure that I was going to puke and get dropped, or get dropped and puke. Just wasn't sure of the order. I spent the first 15-min of the race in complete silence, as I was dying out there. I finally pulled my head out and started doing my job and ended up staying with the field. Unfortunately, there was a crash with 2 to go and as I swung wide and told everyone to keep going, I was already at the back and I stopped. The second I put my foot down, BLAM! Some chick rear-ended me and the impact blew the chain off, wrapped it around my crank and up in my spokes and down I went. Didn't get hurt, but it made me sooo mad and took a chunk of the paint and clearcoat off my downtube. Unreal. The next week I drove up to WA State with my dog and the bike, so I could spend some time with my Dad... He was up and down and up and down, and finally, after a few days, I saw a glimpse of his former self. Whew. The morning of the 4th of July, I went to go for a bike ride with my brother, and found my parents cat dead on the side of the highway. GAAAH. So I spent the late morning of the 4th, digging the cat off of the road, and burying him in their pasture. Poor kitty. My Dad's doing better now, but his health is still not great. Going home for Christmas this year. Might be the last one...

So I'm glad that summer is waning. It's been a year of change and ups and downs. I'm looking forward to my trip to Hawaii in October. Going for almost a full 2 weeks this time and I'm planning on doing a whole lot of nothing! Reading. Sunning. Driving around. Sleeping. Napping. Visiting the volcano, the SAFE way this time! And watching the Kona Ironman again. Heck, I might even do part of the bike ride this time. I'll have the time for it, certainly!

The final nail in the coffin...

I'm moving next week. And after today, it's one of those things where I have no doubt that I am making the right decision.

I was scheduled for a pre move-out inspection at 4 p.m. today. I needed to be home for it, so I busted my ass to get out of work at 2, so I could go ride and be home by 4. FAIL. I wasn't able to leave work till 3. I can do the ride later. Well, the wind is crap and my allergies are bugging me, so indoors it is.

However, it's 4:32, and still nobody has shown up for a "move out inspection". I just called the office and they are "sending someone over". I came home for this? Not that I'm not glad I'm here and not at work, but this is a bunch of hogwash.

Let me go down the list:

- My appliances are about as old as God.
- The refrigerator randomly freezes things - haven't been able to put eggs in the egg holders in the door since I moved in (last May). It's only stuff on the top shelf of the refrigerator too. Everything else is happy and unfrozen.
- The pipes have started knocking in the walls, bad. Whenever my upstairs neighbor flushes his toilet or runs water in the bathroom, knock, knock, clunk, clunk. For like 5 minutes after he shuts the water off. When I mentioned it to the office, "Oh that's normal.". Uh, not in the real world it's not.
- The washing machine is so rough on my clothes that 2 of my favorite tank tops are FULL of holes and in tatters. They were fine when I moved in last May...
- There seems to be a severe allergy to picking up your dog's crap around here. Good thing I get allergy shots.
- Speaking of dogs, everyone has dogs (plural, most have 2). And everyone's dogs bark. It sounds like a kennel around here. My dog is quiet, and all the barking prevents her from getting her 18 hours of beauty sleep each day, and prevents me from working at home. Especially when the gardeners come with the leaf blowers.
- Speaking of which, the gardeners with their arsenal of leaf blowers haven't been here to mow or blow leaves around for like 3 weeks. Maybe the bill didn't get paid?
- There are small gangs of pre-teenage boys everywhere, on skateboards. In the parking lots. Umm, isn't that the equivalent of "go play in traffic"?
- I have a leak in my apartment. And not just any leak. A foundation leak. Awesome. I found this out during the recent wet weather when the carpeting was really damp around my BR window and I hunted around looking for the leak, and was unable to find it, other than it was coming up from the floor. The office's solution? They came in and shampooed my carpet. Yeah, that'll fix a leak every time. When I explained that I think I found the source, I was told, "Oh, experts have looked at this. They know what they're doing.". Yeah, been told THAT ONE before and didn't believe it. I don't believe it this time either, but I don't give a crap, because I'm moving out.
- My guests never are able to find a place to park anymore. Why? Because everyone has 2 or 3 cars, and we are allotted ONE parking spot.
- Speaking of multiple cars... I just found out that the management actually allows 2 adults and THREE children to live (max occupancy) in each 2 BR 1 BA apartment home. Are you kidding me? That's the same one I've been living in, alone, for the last year. If I had to share a bathroom with another adult and 3 kids, there would be an unhappy ending.

It's 4:55 and the guy just left (at least he's nice and was honest, or at least I think he's honest. He's always been a cool guy...). He came at 4:40. The office told me my inspection was at 4:00. They told him: 4:30. UGGGHH!!!

End of rant. I can't wait to move next week...