Monday, Dec. 22, 2003
Dear Diary:

Yesterday being our 29th wedding anniversary and all, that morning I went on-line to see what the traditional gift to mark this much 'Til Death Do Us Part might be and found that it rates bupkiss.

Yes, that's right, a big fat zero.

You can well imagine my bitterness. If I can gut it out until next year I can apparently lay claim to some serious bling bling. But this year's anniversary � did I mention that this year's anniversary entitles me to, uh, NOTHING?

We spent the day in my office-to-be, putting up a knotty pine ceiling. Because, you know, anniversaries are All About The Romance and as we all know nothing says, "Hubba Hubba You Still Gots It Babe" quite like installing a knotty pine ceiling. As an added bonus, we got to bicker endlessly because I am ... oh, how to put this delicately? ... Insanely Anal About How I Want This Room To Be.

He muttered things under his breath about how if I was one of his clients he'd throw himself under a moving vehicle. I muttered under my breath that his carpentry clients get his best work and he doesn't put nearly the care he could into our own home.

We were still speaking, but it was in the slightly formal tones that one uses when one is trying to mask the fact that one is very, very ticked off with the other person. It was a wonderful way to spend a special day. No. Really. I mean it.

That never going to bed angry rule is a good one. I apologized to him for being anal. He was generous enough to say the room will be more polished looking because I have been so fussy. There was smooching and other stuff.

Afterwards, mushy things were said. I was getting alarmingly saccharine. Sensing his advantage, he solemnly tried to make me promise that once the room's finished I will go into it at 7 p.m. sharp every night and relinquish total control of the tee vee remote to him for all night as long as he lives.

Sometimes I think we have held on this long simply because we still make each other laugh.

Normally, we'd back off this room until after Christmas, but we need a place to put our daughter and her sweetie when they show up the evening of the 23rd. We have to get this room into barely habitable shape by that night--we're currently aiming for spider hole painted tastefully in M*rth* St*w*rt's Heirloom Rose pale yellow paint.

Early in December we thought we had a buttload of time to get it to that state. Now we realize it will be right down to the wire. Yeesh. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

There was a time in my life when I would have either stewed for days over this or indulged in some serious chocolate therapy. This morning I'm going to spend a few hours in the gym blowing off frustration while the spousal unit takes his mom out to wrap up her Christmas shopping. Nothing like an hour of weightlifting followed by some serious interval training to put life into perspective.

Yep, Friday I started the formal training for the 10K Milk Run. The run itself isn't until June, but I'm trying not only to get my stamina up so I can actually run 10K, but also to pull my time down appreciably. To that end, I'll be training in three eight week cycles. The first cycle is just aimed at getting me to the point where I can run 10K. After that, I'm going to try to build bonus stamina so I can run it at a pace that won't make turtles smirk.

Oh be quiet. It could happen.

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 548.33 miles (857.9 kilometers)
met goal Nov. 7
Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Half way smoochTen percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers

Going Nowhere Collaboration

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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

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