tiny bubbles v.5

"each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive."

~ anäis nin

exactly

last night while lounging in my hotel room after a little treadmill work in the gym, i flipped through the march issue of san fran mag to find a really interesting article about the work being done to prevent memory issues as we age. the author, one gordy slack said something that hit pretty close to home (except of course for the kissing a girl part).

"i'm not afraid of a falling butt, thinning hair, and lengthening teeth. what wakes me up in a cold sweat is the fear of losing the titles of my favorite movies and books, of forgetting the name of the first girl i kissed on the way to san jose. i dread the prospect of losing myself."

i concur gordy. since having lost a grandfather to parkinson's and a grandmother to alzheimer's, a pebble of thought has been planted in the back corner of my mind and it was nice to hear that pebble's contents echoed by someone else (isn't it always?).

gordy then lays out the more surprising part of the article: believe it or not, we begin to lose the powers of our attention and memory at around age 30.

great. thanks gordy. i just turned 30. honestly i thought i had a good 'nother 20 years before i needed to really worry about it.

luckily the gordsters gives us some hope for prevention (much needed after the age 30 bombshell) in the form of a list of of tips to keep our minds humming at a steady pace:

Exercise (still looking for a way to have someone else do this for me)

Eat well (second verse same as the first)

Challenge yourself and make it fun (i've got this one covered with the crosswords, thank god)

Relax (hmmm...that's gonna take some work, but if i have to, i have to. can someone please get meadowood spa on the horn?)

Take off your shoes (yes, that's right. apparently having an intimate connection to the earth and our surroundings helps us out. thank god i just got my tetanus).

now the trick is to just remember it.

new rule

facebook and twitter must just combine and get it over with.

today facebook released their new homepage design and dare i say i have already logged endless minutes trying to figure the shit out. now in their defense i am not so good with change--especially when it's bad, but now they don't even pre-populate the "is" in my status box?? i mean jesus, what has this world come to? i depended on that "is". let it guide my beloved third person status updates and allowed it to comfort me when i really didn't have anything to say.

in addition, just like twitter, i now see all status updates in real time. gee, thanks facebook. who has the time to sort through all of the messages about kitten adoption events, "25 things about me" lists and video links of the daily show? i just need to know where my peeps are, who's posted the most embarrassing set of photos and just how desperate all of my friends are to end the work day.

so here it is. my desperate plea for it all to finally to come to an end. start twitterbook, go on oprah to announce it and sit back and let the money just roll in. i'm weary of updating both anyway and let's face it, what this country needs right now is some more corporate integration. get on with it and save me the impending carpal tunnel.

and while you're at it, give me my damn "is" back.

march meet madness

event: 51st annual march meet

parties involved: does it matter? they're all hooligans

why we go: cause we love the smell of nitro in the morning (but not really). not to mention, it's just how we roll.


friday
drove down. took me 5 hours with one stop for gas. my god it's a long drive and i always forget. thank god for the ipod.

i arrive at the track and it's packed. at the end of everything, rumors abound that over 100K showed up. 500 race entries. they actually turned some away.

i begin drinking and i don't remember much after that. besides hiccups. a lot of hiccups.

saturday
it's cold. deathly cold. as i lay in bed trying to wake up i think to myself 'i don't know what my face and hair look like right now, but i know it can't be good." i'm 30. can't drink like i used to apparently. but i still try. and will continue.

lots of back slapping and people watching. and a lot of camo. not to mention the bakersfield gang unit is on site. didn't know that the gangs were problematic at the nostalgia drag races. something sniffs of overtime and tax dollars, but i'm never able to confirm.

night begins to fall. ice chest dives become more frequent and laughs become louder. i walk the pits with the dad. i love it.

sunday
wake up in the morning thinking the same exact thing as saturday morning. i see a pattern. i decide to take on more water today. hydration is key.

watch some races. chat with some folks. reminisce about the weekend's festivities. realize that i'm a lucky gal to be a part of this. not just an onlooker. i'm in it. the middle of the madness. and for a few weekends a year, there's no other place i'd rather be or people i'd rather be with. the word 'cool' has nothing on these peeps.

brilliance, pure

linecook's 2.27 post. doesn't get much more authentic than this.

new day(s)?

so i'm officially trying to get back on track with eating/life. i'm praying it sticks this time--it did once before, so i'm hoping it does again. my eating of late has been so horrible that i have begun likening it to vh1's 'the sober house'. except my piece of crack is a hamburger from the habit and my aluminum foil pipe happens to be straw with which i schuck the milkshake from the cup.

yes, it's bad.

so back on the wagon i go. back to the land of mini babybel cheese, escalated water intake (the roughest one for me) and being accountable. but on second thought, maybe being accountable is overrated? i mean really, do i need to be responsible for what i do and eat? there are plenty of people who aren't and they totally get away with it. well they sort of get away with it. there is that little thing of having heart attacks or diabetes. and that can't be fun. ok, right. so back to being accountable i go.

someone get me a fiber one bar, stat.