Yeah, yeah, yeah, OKC Marathon

I met the devil today, and his name was "the last five miles of the Oklahoma City Marathon". It took me 3 hours and 49 minutes to run the 26.2 miles, which is an average of 8:46 minute mile pace, but I ran the first 21 miles at an average of 8:20 minute pace. I'm pretty pleased with my results considering how much I undertrained for this thing, and apparently it is the four hour mark that separates the runners from the joggers, so my time is respectable in the marathon world. So everyone can just cram that in their cramholes and smoke it, and then bow down to me as supreme goddess and admire my amazingly hard core awesomeness. Hahaha. "J" slash "K"!

Before (If only I knew what was about to go down, only one of those thumbs would be up):



Middle: (Actually, only about 8 miles in - that's why I'm still smiling)


After (I seriously couldn't walk for a good twenty minutes):


But at least I didn't have to deal with "monkey butt", which is apparently a problem for truck drivers.

Boxing leads to 23 cent profit!

I decided to go to Miami, OK (pronounced my-am-uh), last night to watch a boxing match. My friend's trainer was fighting after the main event. I've never been to a boxing match and not sure I'd enjoy watching one, but this was going to be on ESPN 2, so there really wasn't much of a decision to make. The event was at Buffalo Run Casino and started at 7:30 p.m. Time we left Tulsa to go to said event: 7:16 p.m.


We got to the casino at 8:45 p.m., where we then spent the next 15 minutes circling the parking lot. We had to find the perfect spot. We weren't too concerned about missing the match because it was last. We finally found a spot that saved us from walking an extra 20 feet, and arrived just as the main event was about to start. At the ticket booth, we learned all the cheap tickets had been sold out and only the expensive seats remained. After weighing our options, we decided we'd rather gamble the money than pay to watch two men bloody each other up. To the black jack tables we went.

What I hate about the casinos in Oklahoma, or one of the many things I don't care for in the casinos in Oklahoma, is that you have to pay an ante for every hand played. For every bet I made I had to pay a quarter or fifty cents. It's a dirty little greedy trick in my opinion. But we played anyway. We sat at a table with who I assume was the casino regular drunk. At first, he was entertaining, but then he got annoying. I probably came to this conclusion at the same time he called me out on my poor singing skills. I forgot to mention that the casino, though cowboy themed, was bumping some really great 80s music, which I can not not sing to. The table drunk asked me where I spent all the money I was supposed to use on my singing lessons. I told him I gambled it all away, but he did shut me up and I could only sing along in my head after that. I started out by just making five dollar bets, but then I got the gambling itch. I was up about twenty dollars, so I put out a fifty dollar bet. And the adrenaline roller coaster begins: I can't watch. Awesome. First card is a face card. Okay, come on dealer. Paint that baby with an ace. Woohoo! Black jack! Phew. Man, I can't handle this. To most a fifty dollar bet isn't that much, but with gas prices on the rise, I'd much rather not lose it. I feel relieved, but decide to let it ride. I can't watch, and it's a good thing, because I lose. Well, it's all or nothing. I go ahead and put the rest of my chips out there. An eleven. I HAVE to double down. I take out more cash and lay it on the table. Please give me a ten. I can't handle this. Hooray a ten! I win and leave. That is way too stressful, and I won about $30. Just enough to pay for the gas to get to Miami. (We could have done the same thing in Tulsa in a much nicer casino.) I'll consider it warm up for my trip to Vegas next month.

On the way out, we decided to play one dollar on the slots. Where we won a combined amount of twenty-three whopping cents. I should go to boxing matches more often.

"Don't cry out, Cease fire"

Last night there was an amazing thunderstorm and the lightening was hitting so close that when the power in my apartment went out, the lights still stayed on fueled by all the static electricity. Okay, I made that up and highly doubt that would even be possible. But it was an awesome storm, and lightening was striking very close and more than twice. I spent the night watching a movie that made me appreciate the rare type of love where the rest of the world can't interfere and the mind loses its logic to the heart, but then it made me wonder if such a thing truly exists, or if it is a charming notion created by Hollywood. I started speculating that the characters in the movie wouldn't have behaved the same way if they weren't so young, which took me to the conclusion that love changes relative to age. But then that would mean that I've missed out on being able to share the innocent, willing to dive in head first, nothing else matters type of love because I am old enough to have become somewhat selfish in my own passions. I also started to think that love can be distracting and not necessarily a good thing. So, I tabled the thoughts and decided to solve my dilemma with the answer I use to solve all of my dilemmas where I feel like more thought and analysis are required than I want to exert: it's all subjective. I can't believe the film made me consider love so much, especially when Valentine's Day is already over this year and I am not one to be a sappy romantic. Maybe it was the storm/movie combo that did it, or maybe it is myself trying to fill my head with other thoughts than my upcoming race. I still like the notion that people do make others happy, and some may get to experience a beautiful Hollywood romance. I also like a band I newly discovered called the Shiny Toy Guns. Check them out here (I really like the song, "Don't cry out"):

http://www.myspace.com/shinytoyguns

Chances are you have no say in who I am anyway

My sentiments exactly:

I must tell you
That I should really like to think there's something
wrong with me -
Because, if there isn't, then there's something
wrong
With the world itself - and that's much more
frightening!
That would be terrible. So I'd rather believe
There is something wrong with me, that could be put
right.

--T.S. Eliot (from The Cocktail Party)


Summer, whether technically or not, is outside my window, and I feel like the past 12 months have been a crazy surreal experience where nothing really happened and my perspective lost against the rest of the world's. I still refuse to change it, my perspective, that is, though. I know I am right; I'm just waiting for affirmation. And if it did happen, something, that is, I can't sort out the details, nor have I learned the lessons that inevitably come from those some things that may or may not happen, depending on your perspective.

This little piggy went to market, and these little piggies went to Pig Olympics in Moscow.

And I find this hilarious.

"Piglets compete in swimming after being thrown into the water during the Pig Olympics in Moscow April 15, 2006. Four-legged athletes from seven countries compete on Saturday and Sunday in disciplines such as running, swimming and svineball - a ball game played with the snout." REUTERS/Thomas Peter

It also reminds me of the time I caught a greased pig at the Corn Boil Festival in Griswold, IA, when I was 11 and won $10. Luckily, that pig wasn't training for Pig Olympics or I may not have been able to catch him.

I hope you got a big trunk, cuz I'm putting my tandem in it!

I like to ride my bicycle, I like to ride my bike. Especially to a lot of different bars all over Tulsa on a pub crawl. We made it through the night with no BUIs.

You might be a redneck if...

...you stay out all day in the sun and don't put sunblock on the back of your neck. I think it's funny that this happened to me just after I made fun of the rednecks I saw at Autozone. Karma, baby.

Oklahoma, you never cease to amuse me

I sometimes wonder why I am still in Tulsa and the great state of Oklahoma, but then I run into a one-toothed redneck couple at Autozone and realize there's nowhere else I'd rather be.

Yesterday, I had to go to Autozone to get a new battery for the Sat. While there, I had the pleasure to witness a couple come in with, and I am dead serious, one tooth between the two of them. The woman asked her boyfriend if he wanted a pop, and his reply was, with a stereotypical southern drawl, "the only non-alcoholic beverage I drink is beer." Haha-I love it! This made me feel a lot better about having to buy a new car battery instead of new shoes (and my car is running nicely now).

Randomnessnessness

-track makes me really excited and last night the team i'm coaching had a track meet. and this may not mean much to a lot of you, but my team has got some crazy talent, like an 8th grader running a 400 in 55 seconds followed by a 200 in 24.9 (with no events in between), followed by a 57 split in the 4x400, and a win in the high jump. dang, son.

-mtv's "my sweet 16" show really saddens me. i don't watch it, but sometimes i see the commercials and want to cry when i hear that $100,000 or more gets spent on a spoiled brat's 16th birthday party who will never contribute to society except by spending daddy's money and giving mtv material to make more crappy shows. but what really sickens me is the fact that if i was loaded, i would probably throw myself a super, expensive, outlandish birthday party too. you're all invited if it happens, i'll send my private jet to pick you up.

-i wish i was more artistic. i can't draw or write well and i can't play a musical instrument. i tried to teach myself guitar, but that has resulted in my possession of one dusty guitar. and i don't really have an "eye" for photography and such. also, artists who produce art that is confusing on purpose or just because they refuse to be mainstream really annoy me. think of all the good songs, essays, pictures, etc., we have probably missed out on just because of principle.

-two things have genuinely freaked me out lately. the first being that i discovered my iron face down on my floor and it was on. what freaks me out is that, i hadn't ironed in about five days and i was gone for a weekend while it was on. i could have come back to a burned down apartment. however, i refuse to believe that i am so careless not to notice that i left my iron on for five days as it sizzled into my bedroom carpet (i am pretty ocd about leaving my iron and my curling iron on and usually unplug them immediately after use. actually i don't even leave my blender or toaster plugged in.). so here's the creepy part: either someone came into my apartment and turned my iron on and set it on my carpet, or my cats knocked the iron onto the floor, plugged it in, and then turned it on. and this brings me to my second freak out. i have two kittens (Snarf and Rocky) in my apartment right now. i'm sure you're thinking, "how cute, kittens". i did too. i even thought it was cute when they slept with me at night and cuddled up on my pillow. but now, i know they are plotting to eat me. i keep waking up in the middle of the night to both of them right by my head staring at me. i know a lot of pets will eat you if you die and you aren't found for a few hours (a recent fact i learned; something about pack mentality), but if i happen to be found dead in my apartment soon, just know the cats didn't eat me after i died. they killed me by eating me.

-well, maybe the iron is my fault, but i still don't want to believe it, mostly because i have an external locus of control sometimes. i will consider myself lucky though, and if i come home today and it is on, i'm moving and getting rid of two very adorable kittens.

The First One Bites the Dust

This past weekend I went to HOTlanta for the first of four weddings I am going to this year. It was such a good trip; a mini old school TU track team reunion. I do have to wonder though, why is Atlanta where all the playas play? In my opinion, that city smells like urine and is accurately referred to as the Dirty South. We actually stayed in Decatur, which fortunately didn't smell like pee, but instead smelled like dogwood trees. I understand what people mean now when they use the term "Southern charm". The wedding was fun and fabulous, and set the bar high for the other three.

Friday night before the wedding. All I can say about this night is "yikes". Well, I can say a lot more, but am not going to.


It's always important to get in your gay wrestling matches before a wedding.


The groom.


Andy, Ben, and Blake. So handsome in their suits.


No wedding can be complete without a lion watching over the ceremony. We named him Larry. (The wedding was at a natural history museum. There were dinosaurs too, but they weren't next to the altar like Larry was.)


Dille and me.


We ended the night forcing our English friend, Andy (with a little help from Aaron), to sing Rapper's Delight at the reception. He made the mistake of singing us that song five years ago and we haven't forgotten that he knows all the words. English people rapping is funny.


I took this picture, because at the time we were both talking on the phone to the same two people on a 3-way call. I thought it was ridiculous because we were sitting next to each other and talking on the phone to each other at the same time. We were those rude cell phone people at the airport.