It wasn't this hard for Forrest...

OK. Long time no see, sorry. Let me make it up to you--here's a post!

Lately I've been doing a lot more running (if you've been checking out my calves recently, you already know that). As I've expressed in past blogs, running is good for stress release, "me" time, exercise...but I've also started to notice that all comes for a hefty price--running is dangerous! Allow me to expand upon these "Perils of Running:"

There are approximately three ways to end a successful running career. 1) Death by starvation/lack of nutrition 2). Death by overwhelming thirst 3). Death by crazy Boulderites in cars. Let's review, shall we?

Pedestrians--which I will define to include runners, various types of walkers (mosey-ers, walk-of-shame-ers, walkers of great intention), and cyclists, even though they technically don't fit into the 'ped' category--have a lot of forces working against them. Those in the gravest danger are those exercising because they are usually too focused on shin splints to be aware of their surroundings. The first two troubles I listed are on the shoulders of the 'peds' themselves. After a few longer runs last week, I realized the benefits of packing an energy bar and mapping out runs based on water fountain locations (seriously--the library and parks are always good bets). The third hazard is the worst because it warrants double duty on peds' parts. Not only do we have to watch out for cars, we have to make sure they are watching out for us. The drivers here tend to be absolutely nuts and irresponsible to boot. This is what I assume the Boulder Driver's Ed licensing test looks like:

1. If you are making a left turn and the white pedestrian light is on, who has the right of way: you, the left-turning motorist, or the grandma crossing the intersection?
correct answer: You, obvi. Old people are slow, screw that. You have places to be, things to do.

2. When making a right turn on a red light, look left and then:
correct answer: Gun it! Oops, was that a cyclist?

3. When approaching a flashing pedestrian crosswalk, the motorist should:
correct answer: Speed up so you don't have to wait it out. Same goes for when you hear sirens, I think. And trains.

The vision portion goes something like this: "How many fingers am I holding up?" "What color is the wall?" "Okay, great, you passed."

Lately, my runs have turned from pleasant mental escapes to Rated R for Language flicks. I am constantly on the look out for idiots behind the wheel and when I find one, I'm very vocal about it. But in all sober sincerity, every runner needs to consider the following: Stop at every intersection to look both ways, regardless of whether or not you have the right of way. Avoid running during rush hour when motorists are even more stressed and tired. Be responsible for the driver's actions.

And as for the other side of the fence, motorists--please! Give us a break! I don't want to have to wear full body armor on runs; the last time I put on wrist guards and knee pads was for a birthday party at Skate City and that did not go over well with my peers. Don't subject me to that kind of humiliation.

later gator,
Stacy

One Fish, Two Fish, Really Badly Dressed Fish

Today I had a few interviews in Denver and one landed me in the Starbucks at a busy corner on the 16th Street Mall. Because of my impressive time management skills I was twenty-five minutes early, and rather than whip out my crocheting again (that's just for you, Ty) I decided to participate in one of my favorite sports; people watching.

People watching is (in keeping with the sports motif) a whole other ballgame in Denver. In Boulder, one expects a large ratio of Class A Weirdos to Normal Joes. Just a week ago, on my daily cappuccino walk, I passed a tall man with flowing blond locks wearing a brown leotard, a hot pink long-sleeved belly shirt, and brown tights in lieu of pants (no joke) and I didn't even bat an eye.

In Denver there is a lot more (possibly too much?) normalcy so the occasional crazy is hard to walk by without a double take.

So while I'm sipping my tea gawking (literally, jaw open) at the guy with the stuffed parrot on his shoulder, I can't help but notice how meticulously dressed he is--for a pirate.

It was at that point my people watching transitioned into fashion policing and I would like to offer awards to the best and worst dressers on the corner of Tremont and 16th:

Worst Dressed: The lovely gal (she looked like a 'Wanda') in the 'Waiting to Exhale' puffy paint shirt and fanny pack. Brava, brave lass.

Honorable Mention:Yikes, all the women I saw in long floral skirts with socks and running shoes.

Mr. Congeniality: His adorable smile momentarily distracted me from his painfully wrinkled khakis. Painfully.

Best Dressed: Me, of course. And my new Internship Director (Brownie points, anyone?) And the cute lady with the smart bob, bright red sweater, and khaki skirt. Thanks for keeping it simple and classy.

Shoot, I should be a black-bar wielder for Glamour magazine, seeing as I'm such an authority on fashion...Watch out all you fashion faux pas-ers, here I come... :P

Forever and ever and ever,

Stace

Muggle Struggle

So...on this highly productive Friday afternoon I have played six rounds of Disney/Friends/Harry Potter Scene It, watched Sweeney Todd, devoured half the Wendy's 99 cents menu and scoured the espn.com site right down to the most obscure women's college sports news (lacrosse rankings, anyone?). And now, in the middle of Harry Potter: The Sorcerer's Stone I have come to the most useful conclusion--I want to be a wizard. I mean, come on, I was destined to play Quidditch! But its not all fun and games and Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans in the wizarding world, no no...you gotta think BIG! A lot of power and responsibility goes with wand ownership...

First order of business as a wizard: Create elixir that allows user to eat massive amounts of ice cream, forgo working out, and still maintain a girlish figure. Hello--this seems like a no-brainer.

Second order of business: Design an accessory that plays the soundtrack to my life. I know I'm not the only one that wishes they could walk around to relevant Beach Boys songs...right?

Third order of business: Impose a salary cap on baseball teams. Hey, I can dream, can't I?

Fourth order of business: World peace. Erm, that's what they say in all the pageants, it just seemed appropriate.

Now it's your turn--I think a good rule of thumb in designating your own responsible wizarding deeds is WWHPD? (What would Harry Potter do?) Who's got ideas?

Exes and Ohs,

Stacy

The fast crowd your momma warned you about

Hello kids...



First off, I'd like to state how absolutely giddy I am...I watched the highlights reel for the Broncos game last night and I felt like a proud momma. I'm not going to say anything more that could lead to a jinks-ing, but watching JaMarcus Russell stress like he did on the field last night made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.



Second, and my topic for this morning: How scary are Raiders fans?! The dynamic between the players and the crowd is something like a cyclical creep-fest. Last year I tried to convince myself that our longtime rivalry with Davis' brood was overrated and I actually liked Josh McCown. I figured, 'Hey, young quarterback, tons of rookies this season--no reason for this animosity beyond Shanahan's childish lack of "dissipation." ' Wow, I was wrong. While the Broncos may have let it go slightly, that guy in the full body armor...oh, and that guy with the severed Bronco fan's head...and that one with the crazy face paint that didn't blink and his buddy that was chanting curses at our offensive line--they're not over it. And here's what I mean by cyclical--the nutso fans fuel the nutso players and vice versa. That family in the stands that looks like they raided the local Halloween store yells and roars at the field, prompting Hall to sling that adorable Eddie Royal around by his jersey on a late hit, further prompting said family to gnash their teeth and boo the referee. It's like The Mighty Ducks' Bash Brothers meets HellRaiser, the way they egg each other on. At one point in the night, Ditka commented that Raider's fans are the greatest fans he's ever seen...sure, if by 'greatest fans' he means the kind you don't want to meet alone in a dark alley. And I don't even know if Al Davis can walk anymore, yet every time the camera panned that Smeegel look-a-like, I almost wet myself.



So, moral of the story: If you for some reason as a Broncos fan (you hit your head really hard, were kidnapped, etc etc) find yourself going to a Broncos/Raiders game in Oakland...learn some sort of martial arts or hide a sharp object in your sock.




PS: I would like to cite that Rob Ryan looked very lovely with his new haircut, and I'm very impressed at what lies beneath. And shut up--he donated it all to Locks of Love...I'd die to meet whoever ends up with that wig.

Yours Truly,

Stace

Oscar Mayer has a way with...

Dear Readership (which I assume is at least up to 3 now, thanks to my momma),

Running is amazing. Seriously. I wrote this whole blog entry in my head while 'yogging' around the streets of Boulder. A wonderful way to distract me from the bolts of pain shooting through my shins...

Today's topic:

"The Secret," or I Know A Few Secrets I'd Like To Write National Bestsellers About

A little while ago, the lady I babysit for (we'll call her Lisa) introduced me to the latest Oprah craze--"The Secret." Apparently all you have to do is tell the universe in a positive way what you want from life, and boom! there it is...Lisa said that she was talking to the universe (do I need to capitalize that like people capitalize God? Hmm) about how she wanted better success in her business and that maybe I should do the same regarding my job search. Of course, my initial reaction was B-O-L-O-G-N-A. I mean, I'm the most positive, optimistic person I know and I still drive a 1989 Jeep Cherokee Laredo. But being the open, unskeptical conspiracy theorist I am (a paradox of sorts), I did some recon on this Secret mumbo jumbo on the world's most reliable information resource: wikipedia.

It seems that the idea comes from the Law of Attraction (supporters have a cool acronym for it: TLoA), which is loosely based in scientific explanations. Ok, I like scientific reasoning, bring it on.

This is what I learned:

1. Thoughts are measured as a type of energy that attract other like energy
2. You have to raise your 'vibrations' and make sure you are a vibrational match to what you want--see "Thought Vibration or the Law of Attraction in the Thought World," by William Walker Atkinson
3. These thought vibrations are linked to quantum physics; likened to light vibrations...this is starting to sound promising...
4. Your body is like a giant magnet, you just need to follow the special formula, which includes clearing of the mind, meditation, vibrational matching and focus...pretty sure this is the same formula I used when I was writing my Christmas wish list...
5. 'The Universe' is capitalized

While I found the above "support" to still be a lot of hooey, I really can't do the theory justice, and I encourage you all to explore the idea for yourself. Some helpful websites are http://www.applying-the-law-of-attraction.com/ and http://www.oprah.com/slideshow/oprahshow/20080627_tows_lawofattraction (real stories of success!!)

The moral of the story: I don't know how concerned The Universe is with my career path, but I asked It to give the Broncos some small chance this season and The Universe (lesser known name: Pollard, Bernard Pollard) done gone and given Tom Brady the boot, literally. Coincidence? Perhaps...Spirit-to-Universe Connection? Definite Potential.


Love,

Stacy

Today's edition of "You Know You're Broke When..." : You know you're broke when you take the warning light on your gas tank to mean you still have fifty miles before you have to drop into neutral

Note to self: The Conoco on Iris and 28th has cheap gas

I'm not lazy, I blog.

So, inspired by my two favorite Littlehales', I decided to create a blog. Hopefully I'm not the only person that finds myself interesting and occasionally hilarious. Unlike G and T Little, however, I will be writing about myself rather than other people/things...more than anything, this is an attempt to do something creative with my spare time and not feel like a babysitting-waitressing bum...because I'm not dumb, I'm really smart! (that's an inside joke)

Enthusiastically Yours,

Stacy.

ft launderdale search engine optimization