So.Tired.

Today was my 8 mile run and it was loooooooooong.  I was actually doing pretty good until about mile six when the pain in my knees set in.  I would describe it as someone taking a can opener and going all the way around my kneecaps.  Not great.  Mile seven was about when I thought I was going to crap myself.  Looks like I need to start taking Imodium before my long runs.  I came home and was doing pretty good for about half an hour, but then my stomach started hurting.  It's really unbelievable how running long distance can give you diarrhea.  I haven't experienced anything like that since....my period last week.  The good news is that after three hours in the bathroom, I got lots of reading done!  Finally, I just had to pull myself together, Chris Traeger style:

I took Oscar for a walk-Andy ignored me when I asked him to come, and just curled himself into a tighter ball on the couch.  More jealous, I could not be.  I made it through the walk with Oscar just fine, but was ecstatic to be back by a bathroom again.

While doing my run at the gym, I had another encounter with that girl from last week-the one I POLITELY informed was in the wrong class, only to have her turn it against me.  I WON'T FORGET THAT, CHICK.  Anyways, I was somewhere in the six mile area when she came out of the spinning class with her giggly idiot friend and some other jagweed.  The three of them started to walk (at a snail's pace) around the track, and the first time I came up behind them, it was awkward because they took up the whole width of the track.  I had no way to pass.  Here's the thing.  I'm a stickler for gym rules.  There very clearly are two signs posted on the track that say to keep to the inside.  Not hard.  Stay against the railing unless you're passing someone.  The sign also clearly says to not block the track and be mindful of people trying to pass.  Hear that, ladies.  BE MINDFUL.  Anyway, so I come up behind them, and rather than them scoot to one side to let me either pass on the right or left, the middle girl just side-steps a little awkwardly so I have to run right through the middle of them while they're talking.  Hmmm seems like there has to be a better way to do that.  I figure, bless their hearts, they're obviously dumb, they'll get it next time.  So the next lap, I'm coming up behind them, and they're kind of casually looking over their shoulders, seeing me coming and AGAIN nobody moves except the one girl just a bit so I have to squish my shoulders and go through.  FIGURE IT OUT, CLOWNS.  They'll get it next time, sure they will.  So again, I'm coming up behind them and SHO NUFF, they are clueless.  Again they start to open up just a little bit so I'll have to run through the middle, but then the girl on the end moves a bit towards her friends, cutting me off, so I, STUPIDLY THINKING SHE'D READ THE SIGN, figured she was going to let me go to the inside.  So I am literally one step behind them, on the inside, when this idiot goes back to where she was, cutting me off without enough time to react, so I slam into her.  Hard.  I nearly knocked her over, even though I wasn't running very fast.  I had my headphones in, so I don't know if she apologized, since it was very much her fault, but I was like "ugh, sorry" and kept running.  I'll remember you, idiot.

  I'm guessing either the three laps they did were so exhausting they had to quit, or her head hurt from the impression of my front teeth I left, because they got off the track.  Good riddance, fool.  AND DON'T EVER COME BACK HERE AGAIN!

Today was kind of like Christmas for me, because when I came home from the gym, there were four packages at my front door from FedEx, and the UPS guy was parked at the end of the driveway, getting out another three boxes for me.  YAY!  I haven't opened any of the packages that were for me, they're our light fixtures.  I really don't want to open everything and then not be able to get them back in the box right.  Currently our apartment is filled with giant boxes, which I used to my advantage tonight during dinner.  Hello, makeshift tv-tray!  Also, I had ordered a new collar for Andy, his was getting too tight since his winter coat is coming in and making his neck fur even thicker than before (ew, what if that was describing a person?)  I really like the collar because it matches his coat so perfectly:

The thing is, I loved his old collar more than you'll ever know:

First of all, I got it from PetCo for a QUARTER, which is pretty amazing.  Second of all, it is so perfectly preppy, which is EXACTLY what the little Nard Dog needed.  As much as I want Andy to "be comfortable", it was breaking my heart to take his charms off the plaid collar.  I was saying things like "Andy, you can't keep getting bigger, you're my baby!" and "You're never allowed to grow up!" and "But this one is so cute and little!"  Ugh, I can hear myself saying these things to my children, and I already feel like I need to apologize for smothering them.  I need to make sure Jacob doesn't let me do things like this with our children.  "But Jacob, these are the first shoes we ever bought him, we can't just get rid of them!!  He still likes them and wears them!"...

 Cut to when he's seven years old and the shoes are hanging off his big toe....Seriously.  I don't want to be that crazy mom.  Or the one who's asking Gymboree to special order extra large sizes for my daughter because they don't have anything that fits her in the store.  Store clerk:  "Sure, we can special order something.  What were you wanting the dress for?"  Me:  "Well she really needs something for graduation, something with extra bows!"  Store Clerk:  "Oh how sweet, almost out of kindergarten."  Me: "Nope, eighth grade."

Another package that came today is a shirt Jacob bought me as a surprise:

I really really really love it and can't wait to wear it somewhere.  The problem is it actually fits like a real shirt, as opposed to the t-shirts I wear everyday that are super blousey and perfect to workout in.  I don't ever go anywhere except for the gym, so I'm not sure where I'll wear it.  Maybe Applebee's?!?!?!?!  Although, to be honest, the last time we went to Applebee's (last weekend), I wore a sports bra, t-shirt, and dirty sweatpants.  Truly I looked no different than the gypsies that live at Walmart.  Cleaner nails, maybe, but that's probably the only difference.

For dinner tonight I made Queso Chicken Pasta, which might sound weird, but is actually really good.  Pretty easy, too, the only thing is you have to have the cooked chicken ready when you start making it, which for me, means I need to boil some chicken sometime during the day.  And for Oscar and Andy it means they get a tiny piece of boiled chicken during the day.  Anyway, I definitely recommend it.  It's creamy, cheesy, and has a bit of spice to it, and I'm excited about having the leftovers for lunch tomorrow.  If you're interested, here's the recipe.

Tonight Jacob and I watched Birdemic: Shock and Terror, which is even worse than it sounds.  If you have Netflix streaming and a WILLING (key word) person to watch it with you, it's probably worth the hour and a half for a good laugh.  I can say it was honestly the worst movie I've ever seen in my life.  I have never seen special effects look so awful.  It was kind of mind-blowing actually.  Jacob got pretty bored with it about 20 minutes in (I'm not even sure we'd heard any dialogue at that point), but I was so in awe at how poorly it was shot and acted, that I couldn't take my eyes off of it.  If this was a movie I had watched with my friends in college, I think the commentary from everyone would have been legendary.