Friday, April 29, 2005

The First Crush

Since returning from my fabulous trip to Europe to hang out with Jared, I have discovered that a certain little someone has a little crush on me. It's evident in many ways--the calls every night at his bedtime, the extra kisses, the cards he presents with flair, the flowers he brings me from the back yard. When I'm not around, he likes to look at my picture. His mom tried to move it from his nightstand (which is two inches from his face) to his dresser one night, and he moved it back, stating, "I need Mary close by." She told me that he announced to her that, "Mary is prettier and faster than you," and when I gasped and said, "Oh, no!" she laughed and explained, "I know he has a little crush on you."

His first crush is on his nanny. How cute is that?

So cute that you must know I'll need to torture him with this information when he's older. Sorry, buddy. Can't be helped. (But I sure am flattered nonetheless.)

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Classic Mary Liz

Exhibit A
(An old announcement with a new twist.)

Mary Liz: Know what I want to be when I grow up?
Mary: What?
Mary Liz: A mommy.
Mary: Oh, good plan. I'm sure you'll make an excellent mommmy.
Mary Liz: Yeah, because then I can teach Mommy how to be old.

Exhibit B
(This from the girl who begs every day to turn the radio on.)

Mary Liz: I don't like that apple thing [my iPod].
Mary: Oh, really? Why?
Mary Liz: Because I don't like songs now. I hate songs.
Mary: You liked them earlier today. What happened?
Mary Liz: I changed my mind.
Mary: Well, that's too bad for you. You're going to lead a very sad life if you don't like songs; they're everywhere.
Jack: I like songs. So does Mommy.
Mary Liz: Well why don't you marry them?

Sunday, April 24, 2005

Mary Shall Not Live By Chocolate Teddy Grahams Alone

But also by Little Debbie Pecan Spinwheels and pink lemonade.


Friday, April 22, 2005

And I Would So Totally Look Good In That Seafoam Green Sparkly Gown, Too

How right on can a quiz be?

You scored as Viennese Waltz. You are Viennese Waltz! Elegant and exhilarating, you are more fun than a barrel of really dizzy monkeys. You love merry-go-rounds, tire swings, and those office chairs that spin around. When you walk into a room everyone goes “Ooooh!” and “Aaaah!” and wishes they could be as awesome as you.

Which ballroom dance are you?
created with

Because It's Scarier Than Death By Tornado, That's Why

This evening as I was getting in my car to come home, Jack leaned out the front door to offer me one last bit of information, lest the blessed silence of evening start all too soon. "MAAAAAAAARY!!!!" he yelled, "MS. RUTH SAID THERE MIGHT BE A TORNADO!" Um, thanks, Jack. Sure enough, as I was driving home, the alert sirens began to sound. I continued driving, and when I got home, what with the obnoxiously loud sirens to warn me of danger and all, I marched right upstairs into my second floor apartment, where I proceeded to get a snack and settle in front of the computer to get some photo work done. I have a basement, but I didn't go. I didn't even take time to consider it.

The last time I heard the sirens was at 3am in the summertime. The wind was loud and strong, the rain hard, and I laid there, debating whether or not to make a run for the basement. I weighed the pros and cons. There was just one pro, really: safety from the possibility of tornado. The cons were endless: I don't have a carrier to take the cats down there in, so they'd have to be transported in a duffel, then let out down there so they could wail the night away and then hide when it was time to come back upstairs. I wasn't sure where my keys were, and the basement is entered from outdoors. I didn't have a flashlight, and the basement has no lights. The basement is old and...and...(here's the real reason I didn't go) VERY VERY VERY SCARY.

In fact, after dark it is scarier than death by tornado. For real.

Thursday, April 21, 2005


I got this from Shiz, who is even richer than me.

I'm the 614,282,019 richest person on earth!

Discover how rich you are! >>

I am in the top 10.23% richest people in the world, and there are 5,385,717,981 people that are poorer than me. That's a staggering number. Seems kind of ridiculous that I ever complain about not being able to afford something, doesn't it?

You're probably rich, too. Let's share some, shall we?

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

My Brain, It Doesn't Work Anymore

Someone asked me to do something Friday night, or suggested the possibility of doing something Friday night, and I can't remember what it is or who it's with. If it's you, please tell me, and accept my apologies for my brain problem. I plan to get it fixed as soon as possible. That is, if I remember to do it...

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Warning: Running Geekery To Follow

2000 miles
Originally uploaded by marymuses.
Yesterday I went to my running store of choice, Garry Gribble's Running Sports, to pick up a new pair of shoes. I'd just run through my latest pair of New Balance 765s and needed new ones. I knew that there was an updated version, the 766, that, while much less attractive, had some decent improvements. The 765 was still available, but based on reviews I'd read in magazines and folks I'd spoken to that own the shoe already, I knew that the update was a good one--better stability and better cushioning--so I decided to plunk down the extra four clams and try them for myself.

I've run in them twice so far, six miles each time, and so far, so good. They seem both more cushiony and more stable, but then, new shoes always do when I'm switching from the ones I've just run into disrepair by spending 500 miles in them. At home I dug out all the old 765s, wondering just how many pairs I'd gone through since I switched from the previous model. I found four pairs. Lined up, they represent 2000 miles on my feet. I have run the equivalent of the scenic route from Kansas City to San Francisco in this one model of shoe. Looking at them all lined up, it's kind of hard to believe. It's difficult to wrap my head around that kind of distance when I'm pounding it out one mile at a time in the same neighborhood every run. I am in awe of the fact that my body was created in such a way that it could manage that. I never would have thought it was possible, but here's proof, lined up and on display.

From here the shoes go various places. That last pair, which I wore when I helped Anita do some remodeling last fall, are in sorry shape, and will go to the trash. The next ones over, stained with red dust from Colorado, will go to my memory box in the basement; they are the shoes that took me on my first marathon at Pikes Peak. Of the remaining two pairs, one will be kept around for everyday use and one will be sent to Goodwill. It seems like a pretty good plan, and I'm glad to be moving them along to where they belong.

Still, as much as I like the new shoes, I already kind of miss the old ones. After 2000 miles, they start to feel like friends, even though they're only shoes. So thanks, New Balance 765s. You've done me right for all these miles.

Monday, April 18, 2005

This One Hit Me Right In The Heart

"When someone is giving you their theology, their God words, you should listen hard and be very gentle. The time to deliver your God words is when you are asked."

Read the rest of this story from Real Live Preacher here. There's a lot of wisdom there.

A Little Monday Morning Fun

I got this from Holly (Hi, Holly!), who is always taking quizzes and sharing them with the rest of us. If you want to find a variety of quizzes to take, visit Holly sometime (or all the time).

Your Linguistic Profile:

60% General American English

15% Dixie

15% Yankee

10% Upper Midwestern

0% Midwestern

Friday, April 15, 2005

Tongue Twister Failure

So I was asking Mary Liz to go get her Hello Kitty shoes this morning so I could help her put them on, and she started giggling and saying, "But I already have shoes on!" Sure enough, she was wearing her dad's shoes. What I meant to say next was, "Please take off those shoes and go get your Hello Kitty shoes."

But I tripped over all of it and said instead, "Shoes--take off the shoes and get the shoes that are your shoes, the Hello Shitty shoes."


Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Four Months--The Experiment Update, Just A Couple Of Days Late

I'm blaming the lateness on jet lag, just like I blamed my pre-breakfast snack of chili (yes, chili, the stuff with meat and beans) on jet lag. It's been four months since the advent of my experiment, and this last one has gone the mostly quickly of all. It's hard to believe that I'm one third of the way through the year already.

This month flew by primarily because I was busy, and part of that busy-ness was being out of town. Being out of town meant two things in terms of my experiment:
1. I got to buy a lot of food just because I wanted it; when one is not at home, one cannot eat what one has at home. It was nice, I'll admit. I got a little bit spoiled, especially in Europe.
2. The temptation to buy clothing, shoes, and accessories was stronger than usual. I found the cutest shoes ever in Nice, and I couldn't even try them on. I wish I could say that I walked out of the store a stronger, better person, but really I walked out disappointed. I also mourned over the monchichi t-shirt, which is pretty pathetic.

And now there's a whole new month: month five. I'm two days into it already, and my main problem is that my jet lag makes me very hungry--not just for chili at 7:27am, but for the potato chips that taunt me from every endcap at Target, for the waffle cut fries that send their aroma into the street for my special torture. At home I still have food, which I will still eat until it is gone, and I will be thankful. In my closet, I have clothes that are cute, and I will wear them and be thankful. In my shoe basket, I have at least fourteen pairs of shoes, all ready to be worn so I can be thankful. I will stitch up the elbow holes in my favorite sweater and be grateful that I have a favorite sweater at all. At least, those are the goals. Here's to month five...

Monday, April 11, 2005

So Cute I Can Hardly Stand It

Today Jack got upset because Mary Liz allegedly hurt his stuffed bear. I told her that it wasn't kind to do something that she knew would make her brother cry, and she willingly and sincerely apologized. I dismissed her from the room and turned to Jack.

"You know, buddy, it doesn't really hurt Bear when she does things to him. I know you don't like it, but maybe it would make it easier on you if you remember that Bear isn't alive, so he can't get hurt like you can. If he gets knocked around a bit, he's no worse off."

"But that's not true," he sniffed, "because I made a wish on a shooting star."

"What was your wish?"

"That bear would be real."

Ah, I see. I stand corrected.