104 - saturday

this morning started out with a five mile run in one of my most favorite places: goddard park. the route I use is two miles in the park, one mile out to sandy point (where I can see out across narragansett bay), one mile back to the park gate, and another mile on the main road back to my car. I've never had a bad run on this route. it's just...perfect. this morning there was ample shade on the road and a strong, cool, salty breeze blowing in off the ocean. when I got out to the point, I slipped off my shoes and walked out on the jetty and watched the boats for a few minutes. this weather is such a welcome change after the runs I've been attempting in the brutal georgia heat and humidity - my neighborhood has almost no trees/shade!

despite the ideal weather, I was still a sweaty beast by the time I got home. the whole drive back from the park I thought about how I was going to jump right in the pool with all my clothes on. so imagine my surprise when I went to take the plunge, but this guy beat me to it:

hello, little frog.  

apparently he jumps in the pool every day. my sister and her friends have fished him (his brothers? his lookalikes? ok..so all the frogs look the same) out with the net and without fail he's back the next day. if I were a frog and it was july and there was a pool within hopping distance, you better believe I'd be posted up on the vacuum hose, sunning myself.

speaking of sunning myself, that's what I did for the rest of saturday. the pup approved.

so immodest.

I also spent a few hours visiting with my grandmother, who is recovering (impressively and rapidly) from her stroke last month. my mom, sister and I picked her up at her assisted living community and brought her to her house for a few hours, so she could visit with us in a comfortable setting. she practically ran to the car when we picked her up. she was so happy, and I love that I got to spend some time with her on this short trip home. 

103 - friday

hi! I'm back in georgia and have almost a WEEK of blogging to catch up on. why so delinquent? 

because I got all the way to rhode island, only to realize I left this bag on the table at home. this bag contains: my ipod charger, my garmin charger, my computer and phone chargers, and...

you guessed it, my mother effing camera cord. 

hi. you were supposed to come to rhode island with me. 

so on top of five days of music-free running (that made for a long ten miles on monday morning), the blog has been neglected. but fear not. I am back, I am armed with my camera cable, and I have pictures and moments to share.

--

I got to my mom's house very late on thursday night - nearly midnight - and after surprising my clueless brother we stayed up talking well into the night. by the time I was tired and ready for bed, it was 2am. so friday morning, I decided to sleep in. luckily, I had company.

the pup's favorite activity is sleeping

fun fact: rhode island is so much further north than georgia that it has dramatically different daylight hours. georgia sunrise at this time of year is about 6:30am. in rhode island, the sun is up at quarter past 5. when there's no curtains on your bedroom windows and you're used to an hour and a half more night time darkness, this is a jarring discovery. it makes "sleeping in" a tall task.

my brother and sister were both working, so for dinner, mama and I had steamers and lobster. the morning thunderstorms had given way to a beautiful night, and we sat out on the patio eating our delicious meal. 

sorry, giant lobster. now you go in the pot to die. 

I should be up front about this: with minor variations on the theme, I spent my entire five days in rhode island relaxing, snuggling the puppy, slipping carelessly into and out of little catnaps, and eating a lot of lobster. it's my favorite food and it's almost impossible to come by in georgia. I will not apologize for the 5 pounds I devoured total indulgence. 

the fish counter at the grocery store in rhode island. fresh seafood doesn't exist in middle georgia. this is food porn to me. I shall revisit it the next time I find myself pouting over frozen tilapia. 

102 - thursday

surprise!


I'm home in rhode island for the weekend, as a surprise to my big brother for his birthday. he's a professional chef and doesn't exactly get days off - ever - and so I rarely get to see him or spend time with him. he's working while I'm home of course, but the restaurant is closed on monday so we'll get to celebrate then. I'm excited to be here with my family for the next four days. 


I tried to blog yesterday in the airport, but the internet connection is expensive for no reason and impossibly slow (logan airport is the worst place on earth but the wifi is fast and free. I think it's a yin/yang thing). so you get my day-old musings, which I typed out while I sat there waiting for my flight. enjoy.

I got to the airport around 3:00pm, which, in retrospect, was too early. I have really mastered the art of ATL-South security. I know which line moves the fastest because it’s the least logical one to use. I don’t mess around with my quart sized zip-top bag or my laptop. I don’t panic self-consciously like less experienced people in the security line do about the pressing glares of the travelers behind me. Security lines are anxious places. As long as you don’t do something inexcusable like ignore the plentitude of annoying yet plainly instructive reminders about what can’t go through line and yet manage to subsequently show up at the front of the line still wearing your belt, your over the knee lace-up shoes, seventeen elaborate necklaces, and pockets full of change, you are probably fine. Unless you buried your liquids bag in the bowels of your suitcase. Or you sent your suitcase through the scanner with your laptop still inside of it. 

If you’re not a moron but it takes you 20 seconds to pull out your laptop and liquids bag, which are in a handy place, and take off your shoes, which don’t have lots of laces or buckles, and you haven’t wasted everyone’s time with elaborate jewelry, you’re probably fine. Stop stressing everyone out by maniacally grabbing your laptop and throwing everything else you own on the floor in your frenzied attempt to not inconvenience the masses behind you.

So, security. When it was my turn, I did well. I can’t say the same for my fellow passengers, but it’s ok. I had time.

Something I love about the ATL airport: the exhibits set up in between the terminals. If you don’t feel like lurching from point A to B on the monorail, you can walk between terminals. There are moving sidewalks but I took the old fashioned road. Sculpture and photography exhibits from around the world! Granted, they are pretty low-interest. But I still like taking the time to smell the proverbial flowers.

I rolled into terminal B feeling good. For whatever reason, I convinced myself that I had received an e-mail a while back about $15 day passes to the Delta Sky Club. I’m a SkyMiles member but so is everyone and their mom and I have enough points to maybe earn a free mug of tea…what I’m saying is, I’m no VIP. Not even close. But in my pea-brain, this was an inexpensive thing to fix. Day club pass here I come! Open bar and cozy chairs! I shall read my book and sip comped cocktails!

Reality check: Day passes are $50. Confirmed: I am a delusional idiot.

Needless to say, I did not indulge in the Sky Club. Instead, I found Platform 9 ¾ (ATL Terminal B Gate “B8”). It used to be a gate but now it’s not. All the chairs are still there. There’s still a secured door to what could presumably be a jetway if they hooked one up. There’s just no desk and the TV monitors are all switched off. Very mysterious. B8 is right across from the Smoking Lounge and all the chairs were empty. I decided to ignore the very occasional wafts of gross smoke and make myself at home amongst the unclaimed power outlets and adjustable footstools. 

apparently my sitting there signaled to other passengers with long waits that this was the place to be. I was quickly joined by a rotund Indian couple sharing a bag of salt and vinegar chips, chomping happily with their mouths open (shudder). followed by an employee on her break with a posse of employee boyfriends who came to sit with her and share headphones and listen to god-awful loud music and bounce their feet on the footstool I was using. RUDE. then came a very shaken-looking woman carrying two cats, who proceeded to let them out of their cages and put them on leashes to use the bathroom. yes. the cats peed on the carpets of gate b8. I didn't take any pictures of any of these characters because that sort of thing is frowned upon, but I wanted to. I hope mental images are enough.  a few minutes later I saw someone walk by carrying a pudgy english bulldog like a baby, potbelly up. he (the pup) was looking very pleased with himself. I knew I had to in the direction of whatever happy place the people with puppies were going. I was out of there. 

I spent the next two hours sitting at the bar, nursing a beer and reading tina fey's bossypants and laughing OUT LOUD rather immodestly because my god, that woman is hysterical. I read the entire book cover to cover in the space of five hours while waiting for my flight.

then we finally (!!!) boarded and I quickly fell asleep, drooled all over myself, and woke with a jolt on the tarmac in rhode island. my brother was surprised, but I was kind of expecting it to be like the happy jumping up and down people from that surprise homecoming show (with less billy ray cyrus) and instead it was kind of like this:

success. 

101 - wednesday

the days leading up to a trip for me always include two frantic tasks: first, making a painstakingly well-planned packing list, complete with the weather forecast for the trip. second, ensuring that all perishable food in the house has been consumed, with little to none wasted.

I'm going on a mini-vacation this weekend (YAY!) and while I succeeded with flying colors at Task One, it's now late on the night before the trip and this is how Task Two is looking:

yes, wine. it counts as perishable. and delicious.

so, not a perfect success. I'll eat the remaining peach and yogurt for breakfast tomorrow, which means that I'll be tossing broccoli, two eggs, and some goat cheese (sad face). the lemons and the half-used jar of tomato sauce will be fine for a few more days. I also forgot to write "buttermilk" but I do have a barely used container of that, too. that lasts a freaky long time, though. I'm not worried about it. I figure it's about $5 of food waste, which isn't TOO bad, I suppose. 

the problem with eating this way is that my stomach is KILLING me from the fiber fiesta (tmi? meh. sorry. deal with it.) I put it through today. I had a green smoothie for lunch (spinach + peach + raspberries) and had a late afternoon snack of the tiny bit of leftover hummus and a half pound of baby carrots. then I got sick and so instead of having broccoli for dinner, I had ramen noodles, a graham cracker, and some tea. 

I'm a very talented traveler, but stomach issues are my one travel nemesis. what's more: I hoped to squeeze in a bikram yoga class in atlanta tomorrow between the errands I need to run and catching my flight. but trouble in tummy town means no yoga means unhappy michaela. not cool. so I'm thinking my most positive thoughts and hoping to wake up tomorrow feeling like one hundred dollars so that I can travel in comfort AND get hot and twisted (ha. ha.) before takeoff. here's hoping!

100 - tuesday

one hundredth post! one hundredth day! t comes home in three and a half weeks, can I get an amen to that?! woop woop!

sorry. abrupt transition. today, I want to talk about sunscreen. this is my collection: a full range of face and body uva/uvb protection from spf's 15-50. a veritable arsenal. so why, then, if I am such a diligent wearer of the 'screen, did I have the following phone conversation this afternoon?
(for the record, I tried to come up with clever alliterations to describe my sunblock use. I'm stuck. if you've got any, feel free to share.)

secretary: good afternoon, dr. ____'s office.
michaela: hi, I'd like to make an appointment, please.
s: are you a current patient?
m: yes, but it's been a while. I've got some freaky moles that I'd like to get checked out asap.
s: dr. ____ is booking new patients starting mid-october.
m: I'm not a new patient.
s: I'm sorry. that's just the way it works.
m: so since I haven't seen dr. ____ since I had acne in high school, I'm now magically a new patient and my potentially cancerous moles can't be seen until october? can you call me if there are any cancellations?
s: I'm sorry. dr. ____ is out of the office this week on vacation. [ha! the truth comes out!] I won't know anything about cancellations until this time next week, if you'd like to call back.  if it's an emergency you can go to the er.

at this point I calmly thanked her and hung up the phone. then I called three - THREE! - other dermatologists' offices and no one can see me until 2016. since I live alone right now and have no one to flip out to about this, I'm going to ask you to take a seat so that I can rant freely.

let's start with her suggestion, that I go to the emergency room. (1) a weird mole (or two) is not a medical emergency, especially in the absence of other symptoms. if I go to the er, I am going to sit there for an entire day until maybe, FINALLY, when all the real emergencies have been handled, I will be seen, and when I am seen, they will just refer me to derm for a biopsy. (2) my health insurance is an hmo, which means I need referrals from my primary doctor before I do anything. going to the er and having those doctors give me a referral to derm overrides this condition, on the condition that my er visit was a medical emergency. not a medical emergency? = not covered by insurance. I don't know if you've heard, but I don't have a job. so I'm not exactly padded with extra cash to cover an off-books er visit.

so let's skip back a step to the part where I don't have a primary care physician's referral to see a derm specialist in the first place, yet I spent a good part of my afternoon shopping myself around. truth is, my primary doc is kind of a wizard and takes care of my whole family. if he needed me to, I'd be more than willing to take pictures of my lovely moles and let him do a consult via e-mail (everyone calm down, they're not in any PG-13 or R-rated places). whatever it takes. I have full faith that he would come through on a referral. but I'm really trying to avoid paying a $20 copay to my primary doc to get the referral and then wait even longer to fork over a $40 specialist copay to the dermatologist all to win the chance of a lifetime to have chunks of my skin chopped off for biopsy. see above, about the joblessness. I'll take a $40 job over a $60 one any day.

end of rant.

perhaps this is a medical overshare for my little blog, but I'm pissed off that I'm in this situation at all. I take care of my skin. I wear sunscreen. I eat healthy and I exercise. yet on the very rare occasions when I do need to see a doctor, I get dicked around. so tomorrow I will hopefully be less cynical and cranky when I pick up the phone and call my primary care physician and BEG HIM to squeeze me in for an appointment. I don't know what kind of biopsy wizardry he'll be capable of, or if he can find a dermatologist willing to step off the golf course for long enough to do their goddamn job, but I figure it can't hurt to have my doctor on my side, right? right.

wear sunscreen, kids.

99 - monday

it's aliiiiiiiive!

what's that? wrong holiday? not halloween? shoot. I knew I messed it up. let's try this again, shall we?

ZOMBIE BUNNY LIVES!!!

what? not easter, either? yikes. sorry about that.

I guess I'm just excited because my computer works!!!

paper towel sandwich on toasted macbook bread. 

please, please, please dear god don't be a dead computer. I can't afford to replace you.

oh! I've got it! pyrotechnics! that's what everyone's all excited about! and by "everyone" I mean my neighbors who on all sides of my yard are lighting giant colorful bombs on fire and letting them rip in frightening proximity to my bedroom windows.

happy fourth of july. I'll admit that after this weekend's patriotic overdose, I'm a little underwhelmed by today being *the* day. wynonna judd played a free concert with an f-15 flyover and big fireworks on friday night (I didn't go, but I sure heard it all). saturday, a bbq with friends. today? I kind of feel celebrated out. I joked with t that I'm that grumpy old lady next door who complains about the damn kids and their fireworks. I know. I'm pathetic.

all cranky neighbor complaints aside, I am happy to be in this place and it was quite an experience to spend this holiday weekend in the most patriotic place I've ever been. even more exciting is the fact that I have lots of (secret! surprise!) things to look forward to in the coming days/week, and I can't wait to share them here.

happy 4th!

98 - sunday

maybe it's just the independence day spirit, but I am starting to love living in a military town. where a typical day in my house includes an f-15 sonic boom test and a helicopter flyover. where patriotic kitsch (flags! shirts! bumper stickers! topiaries!) abounds almost to excess, even when it's NOT fourth of july weekend. our town's official motto is: every day in middle georgia is armed forces appreciation day. no...I'm serious. it's everywhere.

three cheers for crappy cell phone pictures snapped while also turning right! hooray multitasking!

this morning, church was full-blown fourth of july themed. or, as our pastor would say in his very thick southern drawl, "ju-ly the fourth." during the pastor's moment with the children (when all the kids come up front and sit on the alter steps with him), he was explaining about how god loves america and showing the kids dollars and quarters to talk about george washington. he even sang a few bars of god bless america, just for good measure. the kids were loving it. so then he unfolded a map of the world and turned to the little boy next to him and said, "we know god loves america, but what about the rest of the world? I'll bet you can't even find america on this map." of course, the boy pointed to the united states without hesitation. so then the pastor turned to the girl on his other side and said, "god loves america, but what about canada? can you point to canada?" the little girl stood up, stuck one hand on her hip and with her free hand smacked the map, right on canada. then, in her loudest, most defiant little voice, proclaimed, "well my daddy told me that canada is america's hat!" I lost it. I could not stop laughing. no one could. the whole place erupted in laughter. the poor father of this little girl looked like he wanted to die. god bless america indeed.

after church I spent a few hours baking and frosting lemon cupcakes for a bbq friends of ours are hosting tonight. these are the richest cupcakes I have ever made. they contain a truly unimaginable amount of butter and eggs. but holy moly, they are delicious.

cupcake perfection.