Shamelessly, I love Jane Austen's stories (and some of the film adaptations). Her characters are timeless: strong women who learn to think and act for themselves, characteristics that bucked the trends of Jane Austen's time. Keeping these characters and the strict rules of early 1800s propriety in mind, this You Tube video is somewhat hilarious. I think even Jane Austen herself would appreciate this breaking free of convention.



(Though, after skimming Persuasion recently, I'm a little bummed that Anne isn't in the spoof...it seems only four out of Austen's six heroines made the cut.)

My first iPod Nano officially died this morning.

It was a 2nd generation that Nick gave to me back in 2006. When he got on the bandwagon with the iPods in 2007, he bought me a 3rd generation Nano so that he could use my older model for running (it was only 1 gigabyte, and I had already expressed interest in upgrading). He got up early to run before work this morning, but the little iPod couldn't get going. His run sidelined, he wasted a good hour-and-a-half troubleshooting the problem before deciding to dismantle it.

At that point, any hope I had for the 2nd generation Nano was squashed.

After work today, he bought a 5th generation Nano. I was rather fond of my 3rd gen, particularly the shape and size of it, but like a good wife-to-be, I accepted the brand new, sparkly Nano with video, built in sound, camera, and radio. I told Nick that he wasn't allowed to change the assigned name on the other one: it will always be Crookshanks.

At home, with my new old Nano strapped to his arm for a run, he asked aloud, "Wanna see what's inside an iPod!?"

I couldn't help but think of this YouTube video:



Anyway, as I saw bits of whoozits and whatzits flying about, I sighed sadly. "I cannot believe that you destroyed it. It was the first gift you ever gave me." Slowing down in his man/boy delight of destruction, he felt bad. He said that he did not realize that it had sentimental value for me.

I leaned into him, saying that it was okay. I pointed to the new sparkley 5th generation Nano syncing with my iTunes library, saying, "I suppose you got me that one too." Thinking for a second, we said simultaneously as we pointed to the iPod strapped to his bicep, "You [I] got me [you] that one, too!"

After a moment of silence, wherein I was felling pretty darn good about myself, Nick asked, "Have you ever even bought an iPod!?" Why no, no I haven't. I am rather proud of that distinction. Considering that the 5th generation is a vibrantly fiery-copper, and keeping with the Harry Potter theme, I named this one Fawkes, after Dumbledore's phoenix.

By the way, unlike the VCR above, we didn't find any salvageable bits inside the Nano…a bit of a bummer because I was really hoping to find a thumb drive and some camera storage cards. We went into the endeavor without marshmallows, so that was probably our undoing.

As you all know, one of my passions in life is ending animal cruelty. Rescue Ink is one of the coolest organizations that I have ever heard of.



Look, we all have a past. We have all made mistakes. These people feel that they were given a second chance with their lives, and that animals deserve a second chance too. Their website reads:

THIS AIN'T YOUR MOTHER'S RESCUE GROUP

You've never met a rescue group like Rescue Ink™ - an army of tattooed, motorcycle-riding street guys who have zero tolerance for animal abuse and neglect. We think abusers are losers, and we have no problem "educating" them about the error of their ways. Hey, we're no angels, and we've made plenty of mistakes in our lives, but we've been given a second chance. And we think neglected and abused animals deserve one, too.

I caught the end of a television show on dog fighting, one of the most hateful activities on earth, today. The man who had been previously convicted of cruelty for his dog-fighting activities defended himself. He tried to say that the dogs like fighting, that the videos of dogs crying are usually dogs who are new to the "game" and afraid; they have to test out the dogs to see if they will fight—but oh, it's still not cruelty, he said.

The guys from Rescue Ink were there, one of the burlier ones (and they're all pretty burly) stood up and asked the dog fighter if he'd like to be tested. People bully animals simply because they can, because the animal won't fight back, and the animal doesn't have a voice. It's gutless and despicable. It was a rush seeing someone not only stand up to these monsters, but to instill the same intimidation in them that they do instill in their animals.

There are just times when telling it "like it is" is so refreshing. I just donated to their cause...please consider doing the same. Let's help them stick up for the animals.

We bit the bullet and bought a new camera a couple weeks ago: a Nikon D90. Yes, I know that there is talk that they are getting ready to replace this one now…but from what I have read, the main areas for improvement on the D90 involve the video, and I rarely use video to begin with. There is something much more romantic about a photograph, if you ask me.

Anyway, I knew that I wanted a new camera before heading to Florida in December, and I knew that I wanted time for us both to figure out how to use the darn thing before we had the daunting task of capturing our wedding/honeymoon adventures. We bought a package that came with a bag and another lens, and all pieces arrived last Friday. We decided to go to Olbrich Gardens the next day to get some practice in.



Since it has his time to get to learn the camera too, I allowed myself to be the occasional subject. Nick was tickled that I was actually a good sport with pictures this time instead of giving him dirty looks whenever he so much as thought about getting me in a picture. Just for the record, I'd rather be behind the camera! It was good though…he practiced taking pictures of humans while I focused my attention on prettier things:



It was the last weekend of their Blooming Butterflies exhibit. I have used Kodak cameras pretty much all of my adult life, so I was having a bit of a time figuring out where certain settings were on a different brand. You can see the rest of the pictures here if you like...they're definitely a bit rough and could use some work with curves, but hey—they're not bad for being a "getting to know your camera" thing!

I have missed taking pictures since I started school, but my eyes are just so tired after work and course reading. About three months to go and I am a free woman and can go nuts as a shutterbug. There is at least one more lens that I would like for the camera (a nice macro lens). I also want a flash, but I am not decided on which one yet. Then there are several other little accessories that have prices that don't come with such weighty price tags.

Usually when we make a big purchase, there is always that period of buyer's remorse. I love this camera. No remorse from me! Nick went out and bought a handful of accessories for it the other day, including a nondescript, smaller camera bag for traveling. I am happy that he is excited too—we should have done this a long time ago. Now bring on the wedding!

So this year is about accomplishing a lot of things, one of them being to run 1,000 miles this year. This challenge requires new shoes on a much faster rotation because I am reaching that 300 mile mark much faster. I got smart in February/March, and bought two pairs of 2009 New Balance running shoe models at a heavy discount. I have been rotating between the two pair, which are different models completely, with my runs. My feet feel awesome.

The NB shoes now come with those bubble laces. I love them. My shoes never come untied. Or at least they never did, until this year. Now I am wearing these suckers down. For the first time ever in my entire life, I need to replace shoelaces before replacing shoes.

So I ordered two sets of laces, and they arrived last week. Just tonight, I re-laced my first pair of shoes. Oh my lord, what a difference it makes! Like new shoes! They hug my feet properly again! I don't have to double knot! I have another six weeks or so before I need to buy more shoes, so this is great to have the feeling of new for three dollars during the interim.

I keep telling myself to snap out of it, they're only laces—BUT, they're really nice laces without sweat stains and that new shoe smell!!! I'm definitely a lace-changing convert! Try it!

I just need to vent.

First, I took the day off from work today. Why? Because I have a 10,000 word team essay to wrap up. Boy, it will be nice to one day use my vacation time for…vacation.

As I edit the parts of my teammates—and I actually have an excellent team for this class—I am once again amazed that people can have business careers and be at the end of their undergrad degrees and still not know the ins and outs of MS Office products. It boggles the mind!

I have seen people enter manual line breaks to add an extra space between lines instead of changing the paragraph setting to double spacing! I have seen people tapping their space bar five times to indent a paragraph rather than setting a tab! What kills me is the references page: does no one know how to use a hanging indent? SERIOUSLY!? Trust me, MS Word can be your friend.

This is stuff I learned in middle school. Maybe I was just geeky and had nothing better to do with my time, but still! I will have you know that I placed in FBLA competition for word processing in 11th grade! Third in state! I take this stuff pretty seriously! (By the way, I have not achieved a major accomplishment since getting my little plaque and pin in 1998. The glory days…)

This year, I have decided to stop rebelling against the advice of doctors and have modified my activities to keep the Gods of Pain mollified. As such, I have been able to keep myself comfortable on the less potent, non-narcotic drug over the past several months. It's been great! I don't know if any of you have had to use a scheduled narcotic on a regular basis, but it makes the tummy unhappy after only a few days. Then it's a lesser of two evils thing: deal with the pain, or spend the night kneeling on the bathroom floor? I usually choose the first and supplement with adult beverages to take the edge off. It's truly amazing that I've managed to get an A in every class throughout my undergrad program considering I've been decently buzzed while writing many of my papers.

This was all until I stopped trying to pretend that there is nothing wrong with me. I have now accepted that just because I can't do what everybody else does, I am not a failure. I think of myself a decade ago, and I don't think I would have cared about physical activity at all. I would have been happy to play the victim, so I should be grateful that my idea of self worth and reliability has improved that much during my 20s!

Unfortunately, having relatively controllable pain this year has made me forget about all of the things that set off the beast. Nick entered a fun run yesterday, and I went along to watch. I would rather run in private without the fanfare which I find nerve-wracking and stressful (plus, the tee shirts from this particular race are extremely ugly), so I did not participate myself. But I did find myself standing for over two hours.

Standing for more than 30 minutes is a big no-no in my world, because it puts pressure on my already over-emphasized lumbar curve. Our modern world makes this one an easy thing to avoid. I forget about it—until it's too late, that is.

The folks at the pain clinic have suggested a surgery that may or may not help those silly facet joints, but I am not the fence about having it done. They use radio frequency waves to burn away the nerves surrounding the fussy facets, which they would also like to do with the SI joints eventually, but they will only do one side at a time (as Nick would say, I'm just really "mucked" up). I have been warned that the recovery is awful because all of the surrounding nerves go a little haywire. The burned nerves regrow in six months to a year, and the fresh nerves may be pain free or they may be nastier than they were to begin with.

Part of me thinks that I have to try because the improvement to my (and by association, Nick's) quality of life would be immeasurable if it worked. But I am afraid of the worst case scenario: the discomfort being worse than it was to begin with. At least right now, I tolerate things relatively well (with the aforementioned adult beverages). I'll consider making a decision next year, perhaps.

I have decided that it's just this weekend that I need to avoid! It was this weekend four years ago that I got that first MRI, spent a night in the emergency room to get a CT scan, and got an open-ended ticket to visit UW Hospital. It was this weekend in 2008 that I confronted the fact that the pain didn't go away like it was supposed to, and my surgeon ordered a follow up MRI...a battle between HMOs ensued, but really I just needed someone (from any ol' HMO) to tell me that I wasn't going to die any time soon because that's what I feared the most. And, it was this weekend last year that I screwed my back up so royally that I spent all of August with a TENS unit strapped to my waist, whimpering when I had to take it off to shower. I wish electricity and water played nicer together!

So, the end of July/beginning of August is just a tenuous time in the life of my low back. I am sitting here doing homework while Nick is out paddling. I need to stay relatively "with it" because I need to pick him up once he reaches the end and take him back to his vehicle. My old buddy the TENS unit is keeping me company, and I am hoping that if I keep doing the exercises from physical therapy over and over again, this will pass quickly.

---

I was scouring the almighty Internet to find a visual aid for excessive lumbar lordosis for you, and I came across this link. This link says that in some cultures, this is considered an attractive trait—hah! You just ask Nick how attractive it is seeing your significant other stuff ice packs down her pants! The real thing will have to do (below). What, doesn't everybody have an X-Ray of their back sitting around the house?



I no longer consider it a compliment when someone makes a comment about my posture—it's not me, it's my spine! Genetic malformation that hampers my independence! Sexxxxxy!

Had to share, because I felt my advancing age the other day.

I have a Blackberry. I love it in an ungodly way that no one should love an inanimate object. I never thought I would enjoy a smart phone, never thought I would use a data plan, just never thought…

Then I had a moment, shortly after getting my phone wherein someone questioned one of those useless little facts I kept in my head. Instead of spending an afternoon arguing my case, probably becoming more inebriated and less convincing as the minutes ticked by, I pulled out my phone and looked it up. Dude, it was super sweet.

The Blackberry came with a one gigabyte micro SD card. A gig is a lot of space, right? I remember when I bought my first laptop, lovingly known as the brick, back in 2000. I paid $3,500 for a computer with a six gig hard drive, knowing that no one could ever possibly use six whole gigabytes in their lifetime. Then I discovered Napster (which at the time was still legal).

So, the standards for storage have changed over the years, needless to say. I remember one of my digital cameras from 2005, another brickish device (particularly for being a point-and-shoot). For a really nice just-because gift, Miles bought me a ONE GIGABYTE COMPACT FLASH CARD...holy moly! That sucker was over $100! I remember a conversation with a support rep from Kodak wherein he strongly disapproved of such a large storage card because!-because!-because what if the data became corrupted!? Think of all you'd lose! You stupid camera user! I remember thinking, "Yeah, whatever. Just tell me what's wrong with my camera."

Now we're in an age where a gig comes standard with your phone, and the card is like an eighth the size of a compact flash card. Well, my gig filled up fast with pictures, applications, and music files. I needed an upgrade. I scoured the Internet and found an eight gig micro SD card for like seven dollars. SEVEN DOLLARS. EIGHT GIGABYTES. Madness I say, Madness! With shipping included, I had another seven gigs to play with for like thirteen bucks.

It's mind boggling, really. I also notice that I call flash/thumb drives JumpDrives, because that's how I was first exposed to them (I splurged and purchased the 256 mb back in the day!). People look at me like I'm talking gibberish. I'm getting old. I'm not cool anymore…luckily, I don't think that I ever was, so it's not a big loss.

Do you ever have those experiences where the beauty of the moment overtakes you?

In ways, I suppose that I have been blessed to experience losing a loved one at an age where I could both understand what was happening and appreciate the limits of mortality. I have also had time to think of my own life and the ugly possibilities that my own health may hold. I have come to a level of acceptance with uncertainty, but my experiences have me feeling a very wide range of emotions. I try not to take anything for granted, but sometimes I wonder if my strong emotions are actually going to be the end of me.


I seem to be hit with these moments a lot lately. My mother taught me from an early age to appreciate my own life, the stories that everyone plays out, and the richness of our surroundings. I think that many of these reminders, often accompanied by tears, are the result of getting ready for our wedding.

I have a friend at work who also lost her mother to Cancer. She read somewhere that when you dream of a lost loved one, it's really them just stopping by for a visit. I remember after my first big surgery in 2006, I had a surreal experience one night. I had bad night sweats as a result of the infection and fever, and I would often wake miserable and uncomfortable in the dead of the night.

One of those long nights, I awoke for a different reason—it was so bright. Yet, when I opened my eyes, the room was pitch black. The moon was not even out. Nick was sleeping quietly by my side; it was just me and the dark stillness. I closed my eyes again, and the lights nearly blinded me. I opened my eyes quickly…darkness again. My heart racing, I tried to comprehend what was happening. I was afraid.

I decided to be brave and close my eyes again. Maybe I was going crazy, or maybe there was something else wrong with me, but my curiosity was beginning to build. The light was still there, behind my eyelids. I turned my head into my pillow and noticed that my cheek was wet with tears that I did not know I had cried. And then I heard her voice, Mom's voice, singing the song she sang to me as a child:



And I knew then that your loved ones never leave you completely.
I had a similar experience two weeks ago when I bought my wedding dress. I was thrilled with the experience and excited that all of the planning was nearly complete, but that night the melancholy hit.

That night, I found the brilliant light again when I closed my eyes. I can't believe that she has been gone four and a half years and I can still remember her voice so clearly. I feared at first that I would forget everything, that I would not be able to preserve the memory of her. There's a lesson in that: the heart can hold on indefinitely.

I walk outside and the gentle July breeze plays with my hair. The sun warms my skin as I breathe in the scent of honeysuckle. The birds chatter amongst themselves in a conversation of song, and I close my eyes. The light is there. I love this time of year, when everything is so alive and at its prime. Our world is beautiful in spite of the hardships we face. Enjoy today and appreciate its splendor. You'll find it's difficult to stay down in the midst of such joy.

(My heart, that is!)

I love the chest strap! It's super comfortable and secure, and I think it's really neat to see how my running speed corresponds to my running pace. I also like being able to see how long I was in my target range (below). The circles represent miles—except the last one which just represents my end-distance!



It's something to get excited over, even though Simon and Garfunkel have officially canceled their concert now. Sigh I just knew it. We specifically didn't do anything or go anywhere for Mother's Day this year…one of the days I dread most all year long…because we had plans to go to the concert. It was rescheduled to July due to Art's vocal problems.

Which, come on. Simon and Garfunkel was great because it was made up of two masters: a songwriter and a singer. Without the voice, it just wouldn't have been the same (even with the great words). After jumping through all the hoops to get my refund and re-buy the tickets to see the concert at a different venue, I think I started preparing myself for the idea that this wouldn't happen after all.

So there you have it. Thumbs up for the new Nike + chest strap, thumbs down for disappointment.

I have come to appreciate that I am a metrics person. I like data. A lot.

Probably not the sexiest thing to admit, but it is what it is. I think this is why I get a high from treadmill running while others look at spending an hour on the treadmill as cruel and unusual punishment. I play all kinds of numbers games with myself on the treadmill, and it keeps my mind from wandering and dillydallying as I tend to do on long runs outside. Let's face it: some people run because they just plain like to run. I just run to be fit.

I started off my fitness journey in 2001 with power walking, and I became an excellent walker. Even so, the first time I clipped a pedometer to my belt, I felt an unexpected thrill. I actually had digital proof that I was walking so much! Suddenly, I couldn't let myself go to bed until I had 20,000 steps in on the day. Metrics help that geeky, awkward part of me that I am probably not going to grow out of after all.

I first logged onto Nike + in 2007, but I was not a regular user because I wasn't all that fond of listening to music while I run. Occasionally, sure, but not all the time or even the majority. Since the Nike + Sportband came out last July, I've been a machine though. I just crossed the 800 mile mark in Nike +, a tally of all my runs from 2007 to present. 698 of those miles were logged with the Sportband from last September on.

But even before Nike +, I fell in love with the heart rate monitor. I have a decent grasp on how many calories I burn during various activities based on my perceived level of exertion, but there's something about seeing your heart rate start to fall when you take a breather that makes you want to get going again a little faster. With wearing my Sportband so often though, I haven't been wearing my Polar heart rate monitor as much.

That all changes when my package from Nike arrives. I was uploading my Monday run and saw the news! Polar teamed up with Nike to provide a chest strap that will monitor heart rate through iPods and Sportbands, as well as compatible Polar HRMs. That means the new chest strap will work with my Sportband, iPod, and it's compatible with my existing Polar model so I can wear with with my non running activities! I love it when a plan comes together!

I am totally stoked. I love the community at Nike +, and I admit that I have become a bit of a Nike groupie, but this just seals it (particularly since I had a similar style replacement chest strap in my amazon.com saved list, but hadn't made the commitment to buy since I didn't have the opportunity to wear it that often with all the running this year). You just know I'm going to look at some of my runs with this thing and think, "Yeah, I could have pushed it more." NO EXCUSES! Totally stoked. Seriously.

I need to vent, and then I'll go back to school work.

As an adult, I have come to believe that if a person sets out to do something, they should do it to the best of their ability or it isn't even worth trying. I have approached my education this way, and for me that means maintaining an A average. I know I am capable of A work, so why should I be content to settle for something lower?

This is not to say that I have been able to float through the last few years without a care in the world. I wish! Anything worthwhile requires a lot of time and effort, and my GPA is no exception. I knew the sacrifices I would have to make going into this degree, and Nick knew the sacrifices. It was going to be around three years of really hard work. Nick was going to have to pick up a lot of the household chores and I wasn't going to be able to have a lot of free time to go boating, biking, or hiking which are hallmark activities of our life together. Nick is a good partner, and I respect him for doing his part to allow me to complete my education with excellence.

All this being said, all of these sacrifices being made, I am so mad I could spit (because that's what mad people do, apparently). Throughout my program, I have had issues with team assignments and people not pulling their weight. I can think of only three classes where team assignments were completed without issue every single time.

I took the leadership role in my team this week, and laid out the assignment with specific due dates on each section, which was necessary because it is a progressive paper where the person who signed up for part C needs to have part B done first. I think I was even an ass and stated "Please pay attention and adhere to the due dates when you sign up" because I had a problem with the last minute scrambling to turn in the paper last week.

It is now Sunday afternoon and one of the parts due Friday night is still not turned in. Other people are waiting on that part. The team member in question leaves a message late last night saying, "Guys I am working on my part. I know that we all have things to do, but I'm really having hard time both working and doing my assignments." I just can't stop rolling my eyes.

Maybe I am tired to the point where I no longer have sympathy for people, but this whole working full time and going to school full time? Yeah, it sucks. But I knew that going in, as everyone should have. What bugs me the most is that because people cannot figure out how to manage their time, they throw everyone else off. I am sick and tired of people being irresponsible.

And maybe I am at my tipping point because I now work in a position wherein deadlines are extremely important, and if you can't make your deadline you need to appeal to the big dogs for an extension. Maybe I am just oversimplifying the situation, but everyone has a busy life and you usually do not get time to rest in between activities. Grow up and be accountable!

Okay, now I am off to pick up the slack in my team. It sure is lucky that I don't have anything else going on in my life and can easily step in to save the day.

My little brother turned 27 years old last Thursday, and my cousins—good, big-hearted people—threw him a surprise drinking bash last night. I had a card and birthday present for him, so I agreed to go for one drink and then head home.

See, they couldn't get the party started until 8:00 PM. Guys, I'm usually in bed by 9:00! Not only that, Nick was already scheduled to kayak the Kick¹ today, while I had plans to go into work for half of a day and then spend the other half BSing my way through a 1500 word essay on marketing research tools.

Nonetheless, we walked in, and Uncle Rick—Uncle Rick of parallel bathtub Euchre fame who knows how much I value flattery and told me last night I look younger every time he sees me—set a pitcher of free beer before me and Nick. By the time they whipped out the glow sticks and mardi gras beads, I was primed.



In conclusion, it was so nice to see my brother tickled that people would come out to celebrate him, and we were in bed by midnight: you can never hold your resolve once you have a little buzz and the small voice of what you really want to do, responsibility be damned, speaks over all others!

¹ I am pretty sure that "Kayaking the Kick" is just a Laura/Nick phrase indicating a day that typically starts at about 5:00 AM to travel to the Kickapoo river, and then spend six hours kayaking downstream before heading back home. It's one of my favorite things in the world to do, but I'm just too bogged down between work and school right now.