What a difference having a job makes. You might not see it, but I still blog. I've written many angsty and run-on-sentence-laden rants on my breaks at work -- with a pen and a notebook, all old school style. Speaking of work, I do enjoy it, despite that it requires thick skin, and that's all I will say about that. I'd rather just talk about myself all the time...
So, back to me. I just ran 18 miles. I'm not just blase and bragging, because running was particularly difficult today. I can feel my body has aged; I'm not 19 anymore. At any rate, I always come to a point in marathon training, typically around the day I have to run 20 miles and then again the day of the race, when I get annoyed with myself for signing up to the pain in the first place. I tempted myself with the idea of cutting my run short, but considering I ate half of a large pizza last night, I convinced myself not to waste the "carb load." Eugenio ate the other half of the pizza and a few beers. I'm not sure what he's training for...a lifetime of meals with me, perhaps. Anyhoo, I made it through and now I have chaffed boobs, my least favorite part of long distance running. Next week is the 20 miler, the longest run I'll do to save my chest before the marathon. I have a goal in mind, but I'm not telling you. I don't want to write a blog after the race justifying why I missed my goal, but I'll definitely brag if I do make my goal time.
In other self-absorbed news, Eugenio and I have our wedding bands, which are gorgeous. His costs more than mine, just so you know. He's a diva. I kid, I kid. His wedding band doesn't come close to the total of my engagement ring and wedding band combined. And his tux is probably a lot cheaper than my two wedding dresses. Two wedding dresses? Yeah, it's a long, melodramatic story. In short, I finally realised that my dress, though absolutely pretty and romantic-- except the poor tailoring job -- does not look good on me. I bought a lovely dress, but it wasn't right for my body type. I actually cried like a bridezilla in front of people once I realised this. I had ladies jabbing me with their fingers saying "gordita, gordita" to point out the flaws. Hey, I might not be fluent, but I understand you're saying that my armpits are fat! Lo and behold, Eugenio's mom and sister lovingly and patiently went with me to another store to find "the dress," one that I love AND fits me correctly AND is as reasonably priced as the first one. (Albeit, two reasonably priced dresses isn't exactly reasonable.) Now I just have to not loose any weight and try really hard not to get knocked up before the wedding. (I'm watching "16 and Pregnant" which makes me paranoid, annoyed, and thankful I'm not 16 or pregnant all at once. )
Considering there are hungry, homeless people in my presence on a daily basis, I'm a bit embarrassed by my two dresses. I have my original dress on eBay. If it sells, I'll donate a portion of the money to sooth my overspent soul. Anyone in the market for a size 4, A-line wedding dress?
