Holiday (Un)Cheer

Girlfriends Christmas 2009

The holiday season has always been a strange time for me. Especially as an adult, the holidays have gotten more and more difficult. Financial obligations to buy people gifts, social obligations to attend holiday parties and eat and drink your face off (well, you don’t HAVE to, but that normally ends up happening), obligations to spend time with family… the season is just filled with commercialization, obligation, and conforming to the norm.

Don’t get me wrong, I love baking Christmas cookies, excuses to go out to lavish dinners with friends, and exchange Lululemon gifts with one another. But honest, when it’s all said and done, I’m so over the holidays. I have been for a while. A few years ago, I was finally able to identify one of the reasons why I hate the holidays so much – because all my parents would do is fight. They’d fight about who I’d spend the holidays with. They didn’t know, but it put a lot of stress on me. Mom yelling in the other room at my dad over the phone. Leaving in the middle of family functions because I was “due” at the other parents house at a particular time. Resentment over buying gifts for the other side of the family. Anger with what the other parent bought me for Christmas. It sucked.

Holidays can bring out the best in people. They can also bring out the worst. Enjoy the holidays if you can, and be a shoulder to lean on for your friends who don’t find the holidays are cheery as you.

Grandparents, The Heart Of The Family

Sorry guys.

Yeah, not blogging for two months after I JUST begin a new blog isn’t super awesome. Nor is it any way to gain followers. OH well. I’m back (For now).

Something I can be thankful for is having been able to spend 26 years of my life with my paternal grandparents. So many people say their grandparents/parents/sister are “the best”, but seriously, my grandparents are THE BEST grandparents on the face of the Earth. Not only did I visit them for weeks at a time growing up, but they’d spoil me silly, take me to do whatever the heck I wanted, loved me, played with me, take me on shopping trips to Nordstrom, support me no matter what, and always say how proud of me they are (and how I’m, um, their favorite grandchild… they’re also very honest).

Well, my grandmother passed away three weeks ago. You never think it’ll happen, but it did. It was sudden and unexpected, but the way she passed was probably one of the most peaceful, least suffering ways to leave this lifetime. I miss her so much. We all do. But she was 92 years old, lived an awesome live, and I’m so fortunate to have been loved by her for 26 years.

My grandfather lost his life partner of 66 years. I don’t know what the future holds for him. He’s obviously overwhelmed and feels pulled in a million directions. But I am SO LUCKY to be so close to the best guy I know, and probably the best I’ve ever known. Our bond is undeniable. He’s the father figure I never really had, and he knows it, and is so proud of it.

It’s funny how death can bring people together. For my grandmothers funeral, I met my great aunt, uncle, and second cousins for the first time. And you know what? They’re awesome people. I hope to get to know them better, because they’re cool as shit! Who knew?

Fortunate for grandparents. Because they’re the best.

Grow Up or Down?

On Saturday, October 16th, I grew up! Not only did I turn 26 years old, but I partied like an old person. As in, BFF and I left three (actually, no, four) bars because THERE WAS NOWHERE TO SIT! Imagine?! On a birthday, turning down alcohol because there’s nowhere to sit?

It gets better. We returned to her house and proceeded to drink red wine and play with her cat. Are we 50?! Perhaps the only redeemably youthful part of the evening was the fact we were watching Jersey Shore.

On Sunday, October 17th, I reverted to my teenage years. Saw Jackass3D and drank slushies with vodka.

I mean, how awesome is this? The fact I’m so “fortunate” to have had two completely birthday celebrations, with two wonderful people?

And agknowledging the “cooky” part of my blog title, I have a Weight Watchers lasagna in the microwave. Hashtag. Fail.  You can’t win them all.

I Throw My Hands Up In The Air Sometimes

Allow me to be narcissistic for a second and brag. 

Today, Meg and I finished our BAA Half Marathons. And we killed it. Sidenote: Meg and I were led to believe the course was flat. WRONG. #FAIL! LIES! I’m actually quite sure there wasn’t a single straight mile of flat course for the entire 13.1 miles. My training had all been straight and flat, so to say I was surprised is an understatement.

I AM the case study for not following any of those half marathon training schedules you can find online. When I decided to run the half marathon, I losely followed a training plan… making sure that I got in one long run a week. Does celebrating your birthday two nights before a half marathon sound appropriate? How about barely running for two weeks beforehand? Nah.

I’m not saying anyone can go and run a half marathon. But what I am saying is that I’m learning not to take life so seriously. Including training for a half marathon. If you put your mind to something, you can make it happen. Mind over matter. Relationships, work, athletic accomplishments. Don’t overthink them. Just do it!

Happy Sunday, y’all. Enjoy your evening. I’ll be imbibing, enjoying the crisp Fall air, and staying off my legs as much as possible. OK, well… I may throw my hands up.

BAA Half Marathon

So for some reason I thought it would be an awesome idea to sign up for the BAA Half Marathon.

Let’s backtrack a second. Running is hard for me. REALLY hard. When I was a competitive gymnast and working out six days a week, I couldn’t run a 1/4 of a mile. In gym class when we “had” to run a mile, I was lucky if I clocked in at 15 minutes. I couldn’t breathe, would get sharp pains on my sides, and literally be on the verge of tears.

About three years ago, I decided the gym wasn’t a waste of time. Slowly, I started off with the elliptical, stair-master, then spin class (I was really intimidated and would purposly avoid spin class), and finally, outdoor running. The planner that I am, I attempted to stick to a half-marathon training plan. No luck. With work, socializing, family, and personal time, I’ve created a half-assed training plan. Many fitness and healthy living bloggers would say I’m screwed. Oops.

In attempts to convince myself I can run the milage, last Saturday (after too much to eat and drink on Friday night… also haden’t run in a week), I ran 13.1 miles. It wasn’t easy. But honestly, it could have been a LOT worse. I clocked in at about 1:57:00 and would be thrilled to make it under two hours on Sunday. Actually, no, I just want to finish. I’m concerned about an unpredictable, unfamiliar course. Crowds of people. Weather.

Keep your fingers and toes crossed for my completion on Sunday. And if I make it, cross your fingers and toes that I survive the after party. I kid, I kid…

Minu, Munchkin, Mooka, and More

I was suppose to be born on October 4th, the day of Feast of St. Francis of Assisi. For those of you who don’t know who is he (and most people, um, don’t), he was Catholic deacon and preacher who was known as the patron saint of animals.

Many chuches have a “Blessing of the Animals” on the Sunday before the Feat of St. Francis of Asissi, demonstrating the literal blessing animals are in this world. My mother swears it’s no coincidence my due date was on the day of the feast. While I’m not entirely convinced, I’m the first to admit I am a HUGE animal lover. I’ve been fortunate to have many animals be a part of my life, starting with Minu who was a gift on my 7th birthday. I’m not sure any birthday present will ever live up to my 7th birthday. I was by far the happiest girl in the WORLD when I got him, especially considering my mother said we’d never get a cat because she was allergic. In his 15 years of life, that cat went through a lot… from being taken to an Indian restaurant the evening I got him as a gift and sleeping on my lap the entire meal, to being dressed up in doll clothes, painted nails, adventurouing out in the woods of Wilton (he was an indoor cat), my relentless attempts at potty training him. The list goes on.

By far the sadddest day of my life so to date was when I had to put my cat, Munchkin, to sleep. He was only one year old and though it seemed he was suffering from regular cat cold, in 24 hours, I had to put him to sleep because he was in liver failure. He was an AWESOME cat… a Munchkin cat who had the body of a dachshund, but in cat form. He was a huge cuddler and best friend of my hamster, Bella. I know, you’re probably  wondering, “What the HELL is going on in Sara’s apartment?”. No worries, it’s all good.

Since my 7th birthay, Minu has unfortunately passed away to kitty heaven, but I’m not the proud mommy of Mooka, a hyper black and white shelter cat I adopted about two years ago. Sounds crazy, but I typically like animals more than children. They never talk back, are relatively clean and low maintenance, and are always there to comfort in good times and in bad. While I’ve never owned a dog, I understand how a dog can literally be “man’s best friend.”

I am so fortunate to have experienced joy from animals in my past, and continue to now and in the future. I wish I had the time to be able to volunteer at MSPCA-Angell like I did in the good ol’ laid off days… but until then, I’ll be making my monthly visits to the Animal Rescue League, gawking over people’s dogs in Beacon Hill, and enjoying the company of my Mooka.

While it’s sure to be a day of torrential downpours, hurricane-force winds, and the inevitable rainout of the Yankees/Sox game I have tickets for (it’s cool, rain date of this weekend would probably work better anyway), today ROCKS? Why, you ask?

Because it’s Friday. We love Fridays. It’s October 1. October 1 is my absolute favorite month (Halloween, pumpkin, comfy sweaters, sweet potatoes, leaf piles, birthdays, seasonal candy). Also, I’m wearing my houndstooth rainboots! I effing love houndstooth!