Incoherence

Incoherence

Can't form coherent paragraphs right now. Must rely on bullets and randomness being fashionable.

My little brother has been in the hospital since Thursday, with complications from ulcerative colitis. They had to give him some blood on Saturday, I think, and he seems to be doing better since then. I'm so sad for him though. This is too long to lie alone in a hospital room with nothing to do but think about how much it sucks.

Erik got a new job and started today. He's doing GIS something or other for some city office or something blah blah blah. All I know is he took the Prius and will continue to take the Prius. Farewell, sweet hybrid. It was nice knowing you ever so briefly.

I've ran 135 miles YTD. 8 miles this Saturday in 72 minutes. Not bad, no? I don't think I can keep this up as we start piling on the mileage, but we'll see. My motivation on the long runs is my fabulous running buddy, John. Not the John you all know from here, but John The Marine Lawyer. We can call him John v3.0. He's pretty badass, has taught me to grunt like a Marine to people we pass instead of saying "good job!" all faux-cheery, has a 1 year old baby, and is genuinely concerned about my performance, my livelihood, and if a car is going to hit me when I'm running on the outside of the sidewalk.

I told John v2.0, my dear friend/night-hiking/coworker John you all know and love, that John v3.0 changes sides when I end up on the outside of the sidewalk, and John v2.0 said all grumpily, "yeah, that won't last." He's totally jealous, if you ask me.

Erik is just glad I'm not dragging him out to run 8+ miles.

My parents hardly ever call me. They never come to visit. I'm the only one making an effort. Are they doing this on purpose to teach me a lesson, or do they just not love me anymore? Or some combination thereof? Maybe this is to make up for when I was in college and really only called them when I needed money, had totaled their car, or needed picked up at the airport. Every time I call them now, since I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO INITIATES CONTACT, my mother answers the phone with "what's wrong?"

In our group of friends, we all seem to have Nalgene bottles. This weekend, at Scott and Sarah's house, Grace was able to name each person's Nalgene, matching it up to the correct owner. She has even mastered the possessive, with my Nalgene being called "Ju-ya" [slight pause.] "ssssss." BE STILL MY HEART.

As we were rushing to meet Scott, Sarah, and Grace for coffee one morning, and we mused that when their second baby is born (April), it's going to be so great because we'll totally get to hold at least one of the babies whenever we're with them.

And then I got really, really sad because there's a chance they might move away before the new baby is even born. I know they'll still be a huge, huge part of our lives, and we'll bend over backwards to make sure we're involved in Grace and the new baby's lives, but still. She's totally reading this, too, so I'm kissing up to her a little bit. Anyway, I'm lousy with girlfriends. Really lousy. I seem to feel competitive with everyone, except Sarah -- I'm so comfortable with her and our friendship isn't high maintenance at all. I've never had a friend like Sarah before and don't want to lose her. I really only have a tiny little circle of best-ish friends, and John (v2.0) totally can't step up because whenever the conversation gets heavy at all, he'll snap into some fake accent and say "we're not having this conversation" or "you are being so ridiculous" or "how long is this going to take?"

No really, he does that. Sarah, don't leave me like this! I mean, I wish you guys all the best and will come and visit every other weekend until we can move in.

Just now, Kevin, my own personal minion at work, came into my cubicle and wasn't wearing his glasses. I asked him if he got contacts, and he said, "no, I got laser vision." I think he meant to say "I got laser [surgery and now have better] vision," but I'm glad it came out the way it did. HE CAN SEE MY UNDERWEAR AND ALL THE STUPID THINGS IN MY PURSE. If that were the case, I'd be more concerned about all the stupid things in my purse, FYI. Wait, is laser vision what superman uses to see through things or cut through things?

I'm honestly thinking about painting my dining room red.

The end.