Source: momsbyheart.net via Ashley on Pinterest

You guys....something has happened to me. Lately, I'm obsessed with running.

I wake up and think about when I'm going to run. And I plan my meals around that time so that I won't be too full or too hungry. I run in the cold. I run on a squeaky treadmill. I get cranky on Wednesdays because I don't have time to run on those days.

Don't get me wrong...I'm not addicted and running for hours every day. But that 30-60 minutes I spend working out has become one of my favorite parts of the day, right up there with the first step into a hot shower and eating. (I still love eating the most.)

I'm actually considering a half marathon (crazy? probably) which I said I'd never do. But I want the challenge. And I'm thinking about going to a running store to be fitted for fancy running shoes. Because the Nikes I got a few years ago are starting to die...and I'm having some minor arch pain.

All those motivational running quotes start to feel true and right, like when you are really into a guy and suddenly sappy love songs on the radio make sense. I'm like that, but my man is the open road (or more often, my roommate's treadmill).

So. Who wants to run a race with me? Not necessarily a half (because I'm questioning my sanity) but a 5K? 10K? I'll buy you donuts at the end.

I would apologize about the girly nature of this post, but once again, it's my blog. And the majority of my consistent readers are ladies (but alas, not commenters, haha) and thus have lady parts and understand what I'm talking about.

So, without further ado, how I can tell when I'm PMSing:
- I listen to "Bridge Over Troubled Water" over and over again, because Simon & Garfunkel really get me.
- I usually cry when listening to it.
- I go through a lot of Hershey's syrup.
- I listen to Taylor Swift a lot, because she really gets me.
- Every five seconds something else sounds good to eat. This also happens when I'm really hungry though.
- My room feels SO CROWDED and I debate throwing everything away to live as a minimalist.
- I have a sudden urge to read through old journals/blog posts.
- I start hating all my clothes and feeling fat and the only remedy seems to be a face mask because it's the only action I can take in the moment.
- Lauri and I talk on the phone about eating entire pans of brownies. We don't actually do this, but we threaten.
- I suppress the urge to call my parents because I know I will only end up crying when I realize how much they love me.
- I spend days denying myself a Carl's Jr. Oreo shake because I know once I have one...all willpower will disappear.
- I bite my nails. Weird, right? I only noticed that I do this recently. The rest of the month I'm fine but PMS hits and suddenly I can't keep my hands out of my mouth.
- My lips get chapped - what is that about?

All right, I have to go throw out everything I own and make a black and white shake. Sometimes I'm so cliched.

PS - Since I'm talking about girly stuff...sometimes my roommate and I like to gross each other out by talking about lady medical things in really specific terms. Like instead of a period we say 'my uterus is shedding its lining (in homage to a college roommate of mine) and we say words like 'mucous plug' and 'placenta' and 'cervical dilation' until we're laughing hysterically/about to vomit. Love that girl.

omg edit: right after I posted this the next song on my itunes shuffle came on and it was a recording I made of my childhood music box that I now use as the ringtone for my parents...yup, crying. 

I am still here. Sort of.

Yesterday I opened my fridge and found cereal there. I'm not sure how long it had been there without my noticing it.

I've also misplaced all my white socks. They are not in the hamper and not in the laundry and certainly not in the sock drawer. I wore black socks with my Chucks today. That happened.

In laziness/forgetfulness I drove my car with 1/8 of a tank of gas left. And then had to find a gas station open at 3:30am out of fear that I would run out of gas two blocks from home.

This sentence came out of my mouth yesterday: "If I'd known you were going to be here, I would have worn pants."

I've been watching a lot of 30 Rock while I grade/fall asleep doing work. There's this one episode where Jack is 'Reaganing' (a hilarious joke about doing everything right for 24 hours straight). If you watch the show you'll understand what I mean when I say that I've been 'Lemoning' this past week or so.

I'm shocked I have even been feeding myself. Although in all honesty, I'm not really sure what I've eaten besides half a pan of brownies I made at 11 the other night. And rootbeer floats from Hires (which will always be hi-res to me).

I haven't shaved my legs in ages. AGES.

I've been keeping a cold (sort of) at bay by pounding OJ and Emergen-C and eating a lot of clementines. I'm not sure how long I can count on citrus to take the place of my immune system. Which Jacob and I determined is like the Maginot Line.

Last week I decided to be irresponsible for a day and went to a movie in the afternoon. We talked into the wrong theater and spent ten minutes saying 'doesn't this feel like it's ending? No, maybe it's the beginning and we'll find out about this later....'

Suffice it to say, I am so ready for this semester to be over. Friday can't come soon enough.

Source: sombreboite.tumblr.com via Christy on Pinterest

I'm in a script writing class this semester. Scary, right?

It is to me.

We have to write at least 60 pages. And we have to do a reading at least 4 times this semester of no shorter than 10 pages. Basically, you print out copies of your script and then listen to other people butcher the lines. (I'm appalled at the reading-aloud skills of my fellow students.) It's exciting and sort of painful and sometimes really helpful.

The hardest part, obviously, is writing. So to force it out of me, I've come up with the following motivational exercises.
1. I drink a lot of water (I mean a lot) and then don't let myself go to the bathroom until I've written a certain number of pages.
2. I get really hungry and tell myself I can have something to eat when I've written x number of pages.
3. I turn off the internet on my laptop and give myself an internet break only when I've written a couple pages.
4. I take off my clothes and open the window until I'm pretty chilly and then add something every time I've written a page. (A shirt is usually the first thing back on.) It's like reverse strip poker. But for school.

These tactics may seem a little crazy, but you'd be surprised how fast you can write when you really have to pee.

Torture. It works.

Have you ever noticed how as soon as you try to stop doing something it's all you can think about doing?

Like if someone tells you not to scratch, your skin suddenly crackles with dryness and the desire to be scratched. (sidenote: don't you hate when people say they need to itch something?)

Or when you decide you're NOT going to look at someone's facebook profile because it will only lead to hours of melancholy and Adele on repeat. And before you know it your fingers are starting to type the name in the search bar anyway through some sort of muscle memory that has decided to mutiny after years of conveniently remembering piano songs and now only wants to type in THE ONE NAME you don't want to type.

Yeah. That's awesome.

Recently I had to reset my iPhone, and as a result, iTunes re-synced all my music from the iTunes store. It alerted me that five songs I'd purchased weren't in my library and one of them was this Jason Mraz song.

I've been listening to it nonstop since then (maybe a week ago)...and I remembered that it's also the music to one of my favorite routines from So You Think You Can Dance. So, I decided to share the video for that. But seriously, go listen to the whole song, it is running my life right now.

Disclaimer: I'm having a bit of a rough time, and music is one of the only things getting me through it. So apologies in advance if there is a lot of sappiness for a while.

Have you ever had one of those nights that is almost perfect, but because there is one little thing missing or wrong it feels like the whole thing doesn't mean anything and you can't focus on the good because that one little piece isn't there?

No? I'm not making any sense because it's quarter to 1 in the morning?

OK. I'll go to bed. I just hope this is worth it.




*Obviously that poem is "Almost Perfect But Not Quite" from Where the Sidewalk Ends

This clip from Scrubs sort of perfectly describes me this week:

Except, I would never do that gross skin thing.

Please tell me I'm not the only person that gets this way...