Verified Violence.

Once again N lives up to her infamous "verbose" postage...haha some things never change. Anyway,while N has been grinding her nose on the running train, I'm still out of commission; leaving me extremely hyper due to a severe lack of an outlet for my underlying aggression. Yes, aggression. I was unaware, but apparently...I'm aggressive. I've been talking to this guy, (I'm gonna call him "Stitch" because he still thinks my name is "Lilo"...typical), anyway, I we were having a conversation about our likes/dislikes via text. Stitch happened to ask, "What's the craziest or meanest thing you've done?". Ummm, well first of all, I've done way too many crazy things to count..so I texted back, "Umm, define 'crazy' please?And as far as "mean" things I've done....I once told my little sister that the purple jalapenos on our friends' jalapeno plant were grape-flavored. She ate two. I got in huge trouble." Two minutes later, he replied:"Hahahaha whoaaa that's hilarious! Hmmm just tell me something you've done that's absurd or something idk ha." Putting my phone down, I thought about it as I began contemplatively chewing on a slice of orange. Not more than a minute later, my fingers began furiously typing a response, ( unconsciously snickering-silently under my breath (totally un-necessary: I was completely alone.)But anyways: SEND. I said: "Well, I guess the most recent thing happened the other night.." Buzz buzzzz BUUZZZZZZ. Immeaditely, I flipped open my phone, allowing my eyes to race along the screen. "Details please!" he said. Once again overcome with an unheard giggle-fit, the finger-whirring commenced. I said: " Well, every year it's tradition for the seniors on our team to go out "hard" the night of graduation. I had had a bad feeling about going, but my best friend from Texas convinced me to go. Long story short: I tried to beat-up every single male senior on my team and would've done serious damage too, if my friend hadn't intervened haha." SEND. It was a long time before my phone buzzed again. I kind of expected this ha. (I usually scare off guys pretty quickly due to my "intense personality quirks" ha) so I was beginning to think I had just scared him off or something. Fortunately, I didn't. Buzzz buzzz BUZZZZZZ. Open. "This confirms my suspicions." I stared out the window, slightly perplexed. I wrote: "What's that supposed to mean?"SEND.Buzzz buzzzz BUZZZZZZ. OPEN. "I knew you were secretly competitive, violent and aggressive hahaha" Scowling, I replied, "What?!" SEND. New thought. I commence sending another response saying: "I've never done anything even hinting at aggressive around you! What made you think that?!~" BUZZZZZ. "You're eyes are intimidating. Plus, it's always the quiet weird ones you have to watch out for haha." Great. So yeah, I unconsciously send people violent vibes.. ugh just what I need. I promise I'm not an intentionally violent person, though I won't deny I have a competitive streak (go figure).

So.... at this point, you're probably wondering: "What the hell was the point of that story?!" Well my friends, I really don't know...but I thought it was worth sharing in any case ha.

Any-who, I'm currently officially a work-a-holic. YAY. I'm at work all day everyday; and when I'm not, I'm writing and/or cross training and/or in CLASS. With that said, I'm completely and utterly alone pretty much all day, (which means I'm living in my head), so please excuse any ranty/confusing/whoa-she's-on-drugs posts. I'm starving for socialization. Stitch might be visiting this weekend, (but it's really unclear at this point.)

On that note, I'd like to introduce a new addition to "V-Blog": The Poem of the Day. I'm officially establishing this addition to the blog (on account of I'm-taking-an-absurd-amount-of-poetry classes this summer)... in which I'm expected and strongly encouraged to regurgitate multiple pieces of (debatably crappy) poetry a day. Sooo.... might as well share them, right? Haha keep in mind some of them are a little on the "darker side", but some are kinda funny(I guess)...but I'll let you be the judge of that, ha.

Much Love & Cheers.

- L

A Worthy Venue

What's up followers?? By followers, I am referring to the large number of you who I know check V-blog religiously and, upon finding that we still haven't updated, resort to reading and re-reading old posts to take the edge off your overwhelming desire for fascinating new insights into the world of N and L...PSYCH. While I know that there are a few of you who sense in V-blog an opportunity to better understand women through the raw stream of consciousness of a mouthy duo (this is the only time I will ever address you but I know you're out there!), my salutation is more of a hopeless yell into quiet woods, where our most faithful followers have understandably abandoned us, assuming V-blog is dead and that L and I will not post again. But like Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, just because the front doors closed for a year does not mean that they will not reopen, and when they do (a.k.a.-NOW, summer 2011), you can bet round 2 will be even more robust than the first. We've been on our grind just like oompa loompas for the past 9 months and now it's time to get back after it on the adventure front. Without further flowery introductions, here comes my update # 1...Bloomington Indiana.

My track season is still ongoing, at least for two more days, as I am here to race the 10k in the NCAA East Regional Championships. I, along with half of the competing squad, arrived in the corn state early this afternoon and damn does it feel good to get out of New York!! I honestly was not looking forward to traveling to Indiana at all (West Regionals are in Eugene, so you know we got the sucky end of that deal!). But, to my pleasant surprise, I have noticed my mood rising ever since we got here. The weather is awesome, not only for aesthetics but also for practicality. I understand now why old people move to Florida and Palm Springs because this heat has worked wonders for my old-woman-like hips (tight, sore, out of balance...they've been giving me hell all winter and spring, but not today!). I also got to run on more grass than I have seen since I was home, reminding me that fields are meant to be run on and experienced, rather than marked with a foreboding red flag that means "look but don't touch or the portly campus security guards will come get you." We found a delicious AND affordable restaurant, made even more affordable by an unsuspecting corner of cardboard in my sauteed spinach, which I honestly didn't mind at all but on account of which my waitress apologized profusely and comped my meal. (#winning!)

In the picture above you will find the most disturbing detail of the trip thus far--a mutilated American flag, flapping at full mast just two blocks from our hotel. Now, I am not an expert on patriotic etiquette, but I'm pretty sure flags are different from your favorite pair of jeans...in other words, destroyed is not the new trendy. I'm not sure how well you can see it from the pixely snapshot via my second rate smartphone, but that star-spangled banner is ripped all the way to the stars. I'm not sure how to interpret it because I have only just arrived, but I will be here for 6 days, so I will report back on any more anti-USA omens or possible explanations.

I should probably get to bed as Jackie will be returning soon and we have two choices for place of slumber this evening--a queen sized normal bed or a miniature pull-out that can't be much more than 4 1/2 feet long. The bed situation has cause such a debacle that the coaches purchased extra hotel rooms this afternoon. Some sprinters were given rooms of their own in this hotel but Jackie and I will be switching hotels tomorrow. Tonight however, one person has to take the doll-bed and perhaps if I am already asleep by the time she gets back from watching Biggest Loser, that awkward decision will have made itself.

Welcome back summer and welcome back to the world of V.

Vicarious Bins and Buildings

So...I have no clue what happened, but the first post I put online for the summer...mysteriously disappeared. I'm currently running a thorough investigation to solve this anomaly (although it's probably all for the best...considering the entire post was written under a heavy influence of Nyquil ha.) Anyway...hmmm where to begin...Well, first off N and I are going to be separated this summer, but no worries, even though N isn't known for her natural-prowess in long-distance relationships; (ha)I'm confident our relationship will strengthen and grow in palpable/ magnetic/intangible ways haha.

So, what is happening Summer 2011 anyway? Well, besides having hilarious catastrophes involving moving bins flying down Amsterdam, combined with continual banishments from campus facilities (on account of CUID's being wrongfully deactivated); I managed to get a SICK job in the city this summer, ( on Park-Freaking-Avenue...where I'm provided with a 30 inch Mac HD computer..baller.) Ironically, I have the V-Blog to thank for the promotion (and surprising success) of my climb up the "corporate ladder." I'm working for this brand-new company called "JumpThru"..it's a promotional/ marketing/media-type of business, targeted towards the start-up entrepenuers of New York City (ummm..who just happen to be millionaires btw). Any-who, right now, I'm in the process of planning an event, designing their websites and updating Facebook/blog/ and Twitter entries (while simultaneously editing a movie: complete with soundtrack, subtitles and special effects)...basically, I'm working in heaven and getting PAID for it.(Money in the BANKKKKKK!!!) Honestly, what kind of job requires that you be on Facebook??!! Meanwhile, N is grinding.( Nothin' new there ha), yet again in the gorgeous state of , "God's-Country"(aka Portland, Oregon.) I'm MAD jealous. I'm sure she'll keep us updated on her adventures (relatively soon), don't worry! On a more sour note, I'm currently dealing with my THIRD F*%king INJURY this year. S*&T on my FACE...UGHHHH; but what does't kill you only makes you stronger... right?! Well, while it's true that I haven't died..I don't know what's worse: DEATH...or a world without running!!!!!! haha Just kidding. Promise:) But seriously, I'm fine.Just coping with the "Annoying-As-Snot Cross-Training Wagon." ( Involving the "30-Day Challenge" sponsored by Harlem's Bikram Yoga studio and a ridiculously BADASS cycling class downtown by union square. The place is called :"Soul-Cycle" (I mean with a name like that, obviously, I'm going). Although the classes are only 45 minutes long, I emerge absolutely dripping in briny sweat.It's a beautiful thing. The classes are INTENSE. I really don't how how to describe the experience in comprehendable terms; but basically, it's like clubbing hard-core...on a flipping stationary bike. There's a D.J., a passionate instructor, topped off with carefully choreographed lighting (that corresponds with the sweet music)...ahhhh it's a sensory overload of hormones, adrenaline and endorphins, blended with a sick soundtrack over-flowing with the latest top 40 club hits, (plus a few oldies, like N'Sync and Spice Girls.) My advice? Check it out online. Go to a class. I PROMISE you won't regret it.

(Oh and P.S. for those of you who know Tansey...he's living in my building for the summer. I'm excited muhahahaha;)

PEACE OUT.

-L

View from Nussbaum

Well summer 2010 in Oregon has come to a close, replaced so swiftly by an autumnal season on the eastern seaboard that it's hard to believe it's already here. Not only have our living conditions been drastically downsized from a spacious mad-house with fully stocked kitchen to a humble walk-through double containing little more than my clothes and L's cliff bars, but the climate has skyrocketed as well. A heat advisory warning is in effect for New York City, which is an official way of announcing that only the strong will survive our workouts this week. The cross country team has been reduced to running, eating, and napping machines, stripped of most personality due to other activities' effects on precious fluid retention. Conversations are slowed, social gatherings are limited (except in air-conditioned suites) and plans exist only to the extent of where am I going to get water/Gatorade/coconut water and how can I avoid going outside.

But I'm not here to write about the weather. With the new school year comes plenty of developments, including new teammates, new neighbors, and...God, it's so hot I can't even think.

To update on the summer: Ducati left the country for Spain the day after L left for New York. He told his dad there was no point to stay any longer now that she was gone. Will they meet again? From my informed, yet un-emotionally swayed position, the question isn't will, but when. I got sucked in by one of those annoying, overly-friendly and ridiculously persistent promoters today and have now committed to getting my hair cut, conditioned and "glazed" downtown sometime before March. I honestly don't know how he got me so cornered that I forked over my debit card and signed the paper but I've been regretting it ever since. L has agreed to come with me though, as it also comes with color and highlights (transferrable to a friend) and I refuse to let dye anywhere near my head. I suppose I'll update on that stressful experience when the time comes. I hate putting my trust in a grinning stranger with scissors.

Tomorrow morning's workout will be a challenging one, but should be rivaled by the evening workout (a.k.a. grindfest) that will come to be known as Freshman Party 2010. The freshman girls exude anxiousness and curiosity, as well as an obvious love for getting down that promises to keep things very interesting, not only for Friday night, but for the reunion Sunday morning. Freshman boys are in ample supply and most of the team that was not in yet arrives today or tomorrow, so conditions are lining up perfectly.

Considering the characters in this years crew, I can that guarantee that hilarity shall ensue.

Smooth As Velvet

We already knew Ducati's moves worked on L (read: "strikingly handsome guy of 6'2, with piercing blue eyes and a suave demeanor"), but it appears he knows how to put the moves on the rest of her circle as well. I was about to take a shower the other day when I hear what I recognize to be his silky voice and sophisticated vocabulary. Tiptoeing onto the porch so as not to be exposed as the curious creeper, I encounter a humorous yet pleasing scene on the deck below. L and Ducati are seated side by side on the bench; the distance between them is small enough to confirm them as a unit in the picture but large enough to assert the appropriateness necessary when a high school couple meet the girl's parents for the first time. Ducati engages both my parents fully in conversation--my dad laughs from his position leaning against the railing and my mom glows from the table with her Mirror Pond Ale. "Charming, just charming," she later reflected to me about her first impressions. He even talked to my 13-year-old sister for a significant amount of time.

His game suggests substantial practice pleasing parents and it worked no differently with my family. Of course I'm always reserved, skeptical, and difficult to convince...

He brought me a multigrain bagel this morning after he took L out to breakfast...obviously he's bomb.

Valuable Lessons...life's weird so don't Judge a book by it's cover.

Ok so I've come to the conclusion that the longer I live,and admittedly I haven't lived very long, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a team... a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our Attitudes. Ok don't worry... hah I'm off my soap box now.

Lately though, my life has been challenging in more than one dimension( and unfortunately, it has taken a toll on my time and energy for blog postings...I apologize guys.)Anyway, although it's been rather crappy and I found myself in a place so lonely and dark I thought I'd never feel strong again. I just kept living every moment like a gift and seizing the day, even if it was a pain in the ass. Ultimately though, right when I thought I'd lost all faith in humanity, and come to the conclusion that all people are selfish, ruthless assholes with piss for brains, God smiled down and was like, hey, L, snap out of it, look at this freaking gorgeous wilderness, look at your friends, look at your school, look at your awesome life. Ha ok, so maybe I wasn't done on my soap box, but I'm done now I promise..

So...you're probably wondering, where is all this going? Well, in the midst of all this drama, I was working one day taking care of kids at the local park when Ducati rides by on his um..Ducati. He rides by me, not once, not twice, but FOUR times.Alrtight, at this point, we need to rewind and give ya some background..remember one of N's first posts regarding bad boys and Ducatis and what-not? Well, at that point Ducati and I were texting, but nothing else. We both hadn't seen, met, or heard each others actual voices . We tried on three separate occasions to meet up and "kick it", but alas, it never worked out. Eventually, we both just stopped texting each other and we both sorta forgot about the whole thing. Until....(fast-forwarding back to that fateful day at the park...)he decided to pass by , because he got word that I was there and wanted to see what I looked like...and apparently he came to the conclusion that I was pretty damn awesome. So, anyway, when it's time for me to leave the park and drive the kids home, my phone is blowing up with texts. (side-note: In oregon it is illegal to deal with any type of phone call, text, or etc while operating an automotive vehicle.)So naturally, I don't check my phone till I get back to the kids house and start making them dinner. Casually, I glance at my phone and see a very verbose text from Ducati explaining that he just saw me in the park and wanted to hang out that night. At this point, I'm like f*%# all boys. I'm sick of men. I don't give a damn. I get home and tell Noelle about the texts and invitations I had gotten from Ducati, and nonchalantly brush them aside, all the while complaining that I don't feel like hanging out. She's like, L, snap out of it, GO GET CUTEEE. Reluctantly, I take a quick shower(which is extremely out of character for me) and throw on some non-running clothes. At this point, I'm like, "This whole thing is going to be extremely humorous. Our personalities are going to clash horribly and it's just gonna be a funny disaster that I can write about later." N, sick of my negativity,( I swear I was just being a realist.) says L, come here, DRINK THIS. Suspiciously, I take this shot glass of pulpy weirdness and swallow it in one gulp. Immediately after swallowing, I take a sharp intake of breath, and scream profanities. N just juiced a freaking lime and gave me the straight juice. It's nasty shit, but it does the job.

So anyway, Ducati finally gets here. I walk down the front steps down from the street and, waiting to greet me, holding the door open, is a strikingly handsome guy of 6'2, with piercing blue eyes and a suave demeanor. WOW. So anyway, long story short, we get along perfectly. He wasn't at all what I expected. He's smart, bilingual, on a swedish reality t.v. show, humble, and has awesome theories about life and stuff just like I do. HUGE PLUS. As of late, we have become pretty much inseparable and exchange cheesy texts daily. Wow, life is unpredictable.Basically, moral of the story, NEVER EVER think you know what's coming up next, good or bad. Life's gonna prove ya wrong every time. (P.S. tons more stories to come that coincide with my soapbox rant at the beginning of the post...will be put up very shortly. But right now I have to go eat, I'm starving ha.)

A Verbose Late-Night Rant

Five days ago I started a post about a new summer fling, including expectations for our first date, and didn't quite have time to finish it. Four days ago I actually went on the date and then elected to combine two entries comparing expectations and first impressions. Now I find myself in an awkward situation after date number two, when I have decided the fling is actually over. That was quick wasn't it? Embarrassingly quick, in fact. Do I really get bored that easily? I don't think I can honestly chalk it up to bad luck given the fact that this is standard operating procedure for me. I meet a guy when I'm not expecting to, we hit it off, (or at least seem to because I am completely caught off guard) and then exchange info along with vows to "hang out". I am thrilled by the new possible love interest (a.k.a. fresh meat) and flattered by the fact that I gave a decent enough first impression that someone would want to see me again, as opposed to just giving them a temporary chuckle with some ridiculously odd facet of my personality. Assuming we do meet up, one of three things happens, all with the same result. I might discover that they're a douchebag, rude to others and generally not someone I want to associate with. Alternatively, I discover they're kind and shy and by definition awkward, meaning I have to play the role of the male and make all the moves, not something I enjoy doing and am very easily fed up with. The third possibility is that they're nice and sweet and must have been around the block a few times so they expect girls to just fall for that kind of shit. I think those are the worst kind of all.

What's wrong with nice and sweet? I'll tell you what's wrong: A sense of entitlement. I hate when a guy thinks that just because he got your number and hasn't done anything outright wrong, you're going to be head over heels for him. I'd been on one date with this particular boy before tonight (he needs a nickname but is by no means a bro...I'm gonna go with Panda because according to L, his spirit animal is a red panda) and tonight Panda was acting as if we were a freaking item. I was on the phone with my mom receiving some infuriating news about the charades of a family member and panda comes up to me, strokes my hand, and says, in a genuine-sounding, but genuinely fake concerned voice, "Are you stressed? You look stressed."

First of all, if I was stressed, you would not be able to understand, nor know what to do because you don't know me. Our first date was a movie; we've barely even talked before. Don't pretend to offer emotional support when we're practically strangers. Second of all, if you did know me, you would know that when I say "What the hell is wrong with that person?" I am not in need of any emotional support. I don't want a hug--I want to slap somebody. Which brings me to my third point, why are you touching me? Usually when you put your arm around me, it's entertaining for me to debate in my head whether you're serious or not, because if you are serious, then your touch affords nothing more than a humorous reminder of your delusions. Do other girls actually appreciate that? In this situation, I'm already pissed, so it just makes me want to smack you for being so belittling.

Occurrences like these kept me in a constant state of disgust towards Panda this evening, as we went on a double date with L and her new boy toy. Thank God Ducati was so engaging because the more time I was forced to converse with Panda and his delusions, the harder it was to resist being a cold-hearted bitch. L and Ducati continued to hit it off quite perfectly, however, which made it even more obvious how Panda and I did not get along. I tried to walk the fine line between honesty and manners--I was not interested in him anymore but he was supposed to be my date.

Finally, when Ducati professed a late night burger craving and announced that he had called a cab to take him and L there, I took the opportunity to exaggerate my fatigue and send Panda on his way. He wanted to know what day I want to get together next and I told him I didn't have my work schedule yet. Any guy would tell me I should just be up front and say I don't want to hang out again, but I elected to wait until I was a little less annoyed with him and could thus say so in as nice a way as possible. I suppose it was my fault anyway for not figuring out earlier that he gets on my nerves.

I'm fully aware of how harsh I sound, but I can't help it. Today my brother told me I'm going to die alone because I can't stand if boys call too much. Panda called me four times while I was working the day after we went to a movie...said he just wanted to say hi. That kind of stuff freaks me out. Summer flings are difficult because I'm not comfortable with the idea that someone could own you after a very short period of time so the idea of even trying to move towards that feels incredibly artificial. Panda tried to finish my sentences today and I just found it embarrassing. Let me speak for myself already and stop pretending to be associated with me. I want to speak for myself. I want to be responsible for myself. Very special people I hold near and dear in my inner circle and everyone else just feels like dead weight.

It's 2:28 AM. I've been back at my house for almost 2 hours. L and Ducati are still out on the town. Glad someone's having fun.