Heartbeats

Well finally I have someone to sing the chorus of Gotye's "Somebody That I Used to Know" about loudly in the shower.

Always thinking positively.

Last night I went for a run along the Westside Highway. I knew I was going to have to work late so this was a good way to get my workout in and easily return to my desk to follow up on some phone calls.

I just started using PicMonkey so get excited for obnoxious color filters and weird ass crap being added onto my photos. 

So my run kind of sucked. The beautiful weather had become overcast and a little chilly by the time I walked away from my desk phone (which never stops ringing by the way!). My shoulder started acting up after a mile. Last week I woke up and the thing was smarting like nobody's business. I think I sleep on my left shoulder funny when I stay at my parents' house because it felt even worse after spending this past weekend there. I also felt weak. I just haven't been hungry for anything recently. I wish people dumped me more often...

I ran about 6 miles give or take my Garmin issues. I can never decide between waiting for the satellites to load and just getting started with my run. Damn you NYC buildings!

Now that I'm single and trying to stay that way, I've been doing some self-reflection. I've concluded that I am awesome and everyone else has a problem. Obvi. I like to do my thinking while pounding the pavement and find that semi-depressing/semi-angry songs with a great beat help my thought processes. Last night I got into "Heartbeats" by The Knife. Perfect for planning out how the idiot who ditched you is going to run into you outside the office one day and be devastated to see how great you're doing without him... Not that I do that or anything.

This Should Happen to No One

This morning I woke up and found the following things in my apartment:

Pre-cut carrots and celery still in the package by my door

Vanilla frosting in the fridge.
I knew to look because I found  frosting shmears on the fridge door... and my forehead.

Empty package of seaweed snacks in the bathroom.
There are seaweed snack flakes ALL over my freaking apartment.

Let's back track.

Yesterday I left work and made plans to run with Favorite Work Friend. FWF decided she didn't want to run so we compromised - I went to the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir for a quick run and then FWF met me for a post-run walk. I ran 2.75 miles, stretched, and did some squats. Then we did a brisk walk around the reservoir and walked home. Grand total was 5.50 miles.

Do you think people think I'm weird taking photos of myself doing weird shit?

FWF and I met at the South Gate House. Now I can stop referring to it
as the stone building thing near 84th Street.

Today is FWF's birthday so we went out for a drink last night after our walk. A drink always turns into 17 at Trinity Pub. I should know by now that nothing good happens after I kill 6 glasses of wine and switch to Dewars. It was trivia night and for the first time in years the art history classes I took in college came in handy.

This says 5.50 miles although you can't read it. Proof of Day 1 redux

I actually woke up at a reasonable hour but I decided not to leave for work until 9:15. Yesterday I brought my monitor home from work and now I have the sweetest home office ever! I can finally leave work at a normal time, hit the gym, eat dinner, and then finish up projects at home. Oh hello extended desktop. You know I love you.

The best home office ever.

I also found this text on my phone.

The recipient was thankfully not the guy who recently dumped me.

Hungry People are Mean, Happy People are Fat 3

My future self-help/weight-loss/lifestyle book is going to be a hit. I haven't had an appetite all day.

Ribbon Dancing

Today I threw back the covers and went to Zumba. It was exactly what I needed - a chance to shake and jump and punch and pretend to be a badass motherfucker who will fuck you up in between some sweet merengue moves. And to top it all off we got scarves to run around with like ribbon dancers. The Ribbon Dancer was one of my all time favorite toys up there with the Skip-It.

I got dumped on Friday. Kind of out of the blue. Now that I've dissected every conversation we ever had, I think there were some very tell-tale signs. But I was blindsided on Friday when I was getting ready to meet him for drinks. Such is life.

I figure that since I tell you about spitting up on myself in spinning class and suddenly being overwhelmed by the need to use the bathroom mid-run, that y'all should get the privilege of knowing that my love life is a cross between a Judy Blume young adult novel and an episode of Jerry Springer.

So I'm on my second failed relationship for the month of May. What have I learned from this experience? (The answer is probably nothing but let's at least pretend I learn from my mistakes and that I'm not doomed to repeat history like the Germans.)

It's time for me to be single. I've got to let go of the hurt I've been carrying around since I was 15. In many ways, I am still 15. This isn't going to happen if I just keep moving from one relationship to a pseudo relationship to a hook up buddy to another relationship over and over.

When someone tells you he doesn't believe in the Second Amendment and has an Obama campaign poster in his bedroom, you should quietly remove yourself and not come back.

Rushing into things may seem romantic, but it creates an artificial attachment. How can you really know someone and have feelings for them in a matter of weeks?

Never build a common bond on your favorite things. Now Arrested Development, a shot of Dewars with a side of Bud Heavy, One Direction, Frankie Valli, Sheep's Meadow, and hazelnut coffee all carry feelings of sadness. These are things that usually make me feel happy.

The last guy (before this one) has temporarily ruined the Museum of Natural History, Guinness and a shot of Jameson, Teddy Roosevelt, Shake Shack, and the sociologist Erving Goffman. Never share a favorite president and a favorite sociologist. You're asking for heartache.

So I took 3 days off from this running challenge. Whatever. I'll figure out a way to redeem myself. On Friday I was hungover and then spent the rest of the evening crying. Had I known that I would be dumped in a few hours, I would've ran earlier and saved Young and the Restless for the night I spent in bed.

Ciao Bella Key Lime gelato

Yesterday my mom came and picked me up. I sat on the couch in a swoutfit and felt sorry for myself/watched an Awkward marathon and cracked up a lot. Season 2 starts June 28. Can't wait.

Sweat shorts are the best invention ever.

Today I had one of my best effed up ideas of all time. In order to better understand why I am the way I am, I invite anyone I've hooked up with in the past 10 years to go for a run with me and share some feedback. You can tell me how I fucked up, acted nuts, and/or blatantly disregarded your feelings. You can also tell me I am incredibly awesome and highlight my finer qualities. All I ask is that you let me summarize your feedback on this blog. I promise to protect your anonymity and you can even choose your own nickname. In exchange for your time, I'll buy you a post-run beer. Email me if you're interested.

After going to the beach with my dad, we hit up Fairway.
I found the Magic Pop station. The fresh ground honey roasted peanut butter is delicious.

I will leave you with a parting question- Can I steal this last guy's favorite guacamole and margarita restaurant? He doesn't live in that neighborhood anymore and he was probably breaking all sorts of relationship codes by bringing me somewhere he used to go with his ex (anyone else watch The Secret Life of the American Teenager?). I think that a strong margarita is a great consolation prize.