Spring. BREAK!

You know what?

I think I am an optimist.

You know, one of those people who finds the silver lining. Hey! Look. That glass-- that one right there? It is half full.

All I can think is how great it is that I didn't really do much in the way of rest and recovery last week after the marathon.

Because otherwise, this week?

This week would be really frustrating for me if I was all rested and raring to go but couldn't because not only is it spring break for the kids but Atlanta is all decked out in her pretty yellow dress. I posted that picture to try and show you how hazy it is here from the pollen but also because those turtles chilling on that log? That's me.

No worries, I am not a total turtle but my workouts have been slow and way easy. And I think that is okay since I wore my butt out last week and then got myself schooled at yoga on Sunday. So I am welcoming the easy workouts I've been doing this week. Today, for example, I did an easy bike at the Greenway while Lala and the kids played with clay and bird watched:
Truth is that my workouts are easy because in part it is all that I can manage physically. Not to mention, all this pollen makes me sleepy. My first allergy symptom is always fatigue. Next the ball (or rather the snot)will get rolling with a sore throat and not end until I have a sinus infection. Upside is that I always lose weight when I have sinus infection--and the worse the infection the greater the weight loss. See? Silver lining.Optimist. I don't know. I just liked that picture of the ducks. They're a couple. They were sleeping. I took it today on our bird watching hike. I am burnt out on bird watching, by the way. (Wes, I feel for you. Your childhood. I can only imagine . . . Lala referenced your Dad's book a bazillion times.)

Anyway, I am combating the pollen as I am not optimistic about what happens to me once grasses start blooming. I was preemptive and took my first ever Claritan today. Maybe I can avoid the snot after all. Word on the street is that you need to have the allergy meds in place before you get attacked.

So yeah, look at me. All chill on my slacker workouts. Not stressing at all. Really. I'm not. Promise.

Okay, a little but I am not letting it get in the way of fun even if I am not spending spring break at the beach.

Yesterday, I hosted a play date for kids and Mommies. Unfortunately not all my Mommy pals could make it and as it ended up it was as expected- just the "Losers": Memee, DeeDee, me, T, oh and all the littles.
I made Momosas: Champagne, Orange Stoli and a splash of OJ. Bwhahahahaha. . . So everyone had fun! We even invited the husbands to come play when they got done at work. So it was an eight hour play date.
Meme on the electric razor:

Deedee on Carmella's bike:
The kids had lots of fun too as not only did they get play all day with their oldest friends but also because I gave them chocolate and Tara gave them cupcakes:







The rest of this week is going to rain which will be great because it will wash us clean of the pollen but bad because I will have to think up indoor stuff for us to do. Admittedly, I am not so good at the indoor stuff but I thinking maybe it is time they both learn to roller skate. . .

My Friend Carrie

She leaves messages on my voice mail. Not messages like: "Hey Nat! It's Carrie! Call me." But messages that are more like random blog posts that she is too lazy to write about--especially since she doesn't have a blog.

Carrie and I have been friends since we were 13. I moved one street over from her and she decided that I had cool enough clothes that I could be her friend. I liked her because she has red curly hair. As a kid I tended to gravitate to the red headed girls as my friends. Just call me Charlie Brown.

Wait, ready for some shits and giggles?

Here is a picture of Carrie and I all dressed to go to our 8th grade dance. No we didn't have dates. We were 13 but had we been old enough to date? Well you know that the boys would have been beating down our doors. I think Carrie's mom made her dress. Mine was my mom's dress from a dance she went to in the 60's. Look me in my vintage southern belle couture.

There are more pictures of us dancing and acting like we are in love but I think just these outfits alone are embarrassing enough. Seeing us swoon at each other might be enough to make you poo a little in your pants or at least snort whatever you're drinking out of your nose. I mean, seriously, look at my hair. I naturally have stick straight hair. I have no idea how I was able to get it do that. I must have been some sort of hair genius. That is some talent. But mostly I can't believe my parents were willing to shell out that much money for hairspray as it must have taken a lot to achieve that look.

Anyway, so that is Carrie. Now that you have a picture all in your head I will go on with my story.

Last week, after I finished running I saw that I had a message on my phone. I do take my cell phone with me when I run but I don't always answer it. Especially if it is Carrie since for some reason she finds it particularly absurd that I will run down the road while chatting on the phone. It is hard enough to run much less when someone is making fun of you.

So I was sitting in my car listening to the message she left. She doesn't say "Hi Nat this is Carrie" or anything normal like that but instead it sounds like maybe she accidentally called me or maybe her one year old Luke has her phone and called me because all I hear is her singing. She is singing Blister in the Sun.

She sings for whole first verse:
When I'm out walking I strut my stuff yeah I'm so strung out
I'm high as a kite I just might stop to check you out
Let me go on like I blister in the sun
Let me go on big hands I know your the one
Body and beats I stain my sheets I don't even know why
My girlfriend shes at the end she is starting to cry
Let me go on like a blister in the sun
Let me go on big hands I know your the one...

Oh Hey, yeah, I'm just listening to the radio. I'm listening to the Violent Femmes--you know their song about masturbation. Actually, it isn't the song but a Wendy's commercial and I am having a hard time trying to find the connection between Wendy's hamburgers and a song about masturbation. The big hands are making the hamburgers? The hamburgers are as good as maturbation? What? I don't know but it isn't encouraging me to want to go get a hamburger from Wendy's anytime soon.

And that was it. That was the message. I didn't call her back. I didn't really know what to say. But I definitely haven't gone to Wendy's lately.

On Wednesday I got this message:

Er, Natly, Dis is CarREI and I don now quit my job. I er, guess I'll be needing to come o'er and see you and get some welfare stamps since I all unemployed now. Okay, hey seriously this is Carrie and I have resigned from my position. Sigh. I guess you are probably running. Or thinking about running. Or about to go running. Or wanting to go running or maybe you are shopping for running clothes or running hair things or something running.

Again, no bye, give me a call or anything like that.

I did call her back and she actually had a question. She wanted to know how to run. I told her all about how you put one foot in front of the other much more quickly than when you walk. She has called me everyday since to update me on her running progress. Yay, another convert!

And to all my other friends. Be warned. I have pictures of you too.

Losers

I know I have mentioned in various posts that I have a group of friends and we call ourselves the Losers. The "core" Losers are the 6 pack but really anyone can be a Loser.
Really!
All that needs to happen is that around a big holiday--like say Christmas or New Years-- you find that you have been invited to no parties. You are then eligible to come to one of our Loser parties. Please keep in mind that this is not a case of shopping around for a better offer. If you have the luxury of shopping then you are not a Loser. To attend the Loser party the Loser party must be the only offer on your table.

Calling ourselves Losers has not been problematic until recently when Carmella ran past me and Bubbles (my mother-in-law) and called out: "See you losers later!"
I thought it was funny.
Bubbles did not.
And I do realize I am doing my child a disservice since she will probably go to school and call one of her classmates a loser and they won't know that this is a term of endearment and Carmella will have to go to the Principal's office and I'll get called in for a meeting to discuss my daughter's vulgar language choices. And it really will be all my fault--sure I'll blame TV but I'll know better. Sheesh. I told you this parenting gig was hard!

The other Losers have been bugging me about pictures. I have a couple cute ones of the kids but not really any great Loser or 6 pack pictures from all our parties. I guess I am not so much a loser at the Loser parties as it would appear that I am too busy to be snapping pictures. Or maybe I don't want a gazillion pictures of you Losers. Whatever. Here's what I got:

Summer Loser gathering. This party actually never moved out of the driveway and garage. Funny how even if you are in neighborhood with $500k homes it is still redneck to sit in the front lawn and drink beer in folding chairs.
Little losers on my bed at a recent gathering of the Losers.

Little Losers at Christmas:
The "core" Losers at Christmas:

I can't tell you how many pictures I have of this cock-eyed Loser. Not sure exactly why I have so many but probably because he is usually the first to pass out and it is funny that he does it on the couch where we are still hanging out. I decided to just pick one and lucky for him I chose one where he is not sleeping or drooling or looking too lecherous.

Okay, I know you really just want to see the kids and don't care about us Losers so here you go: