The big 4-0....and all I've learned so far.

I've learned a ton during my 40 trips around the sun. I don't think the lessons have been anything special in the larger scheme of things, but since I've been happier in the last few years than ever in my life, I am gathering that I actually did LEARN from all my experiences and have steadily made improvements in my choices and the general direction I'm taking in life. I'm hoping that bodes well for my next 40 years.

Ah, but starting at the beginnning, well almost the beginning, at least as early as I can remember....I learned to tie my shoes, color inside the lines, and that boys who chase you on the playground probably like you. I learned I loved gymnastics and running as fast as I could, to try to beat those boys, probably because I liked them. I learned my best girlfriends sometimes got jealous and wouldn't be my best friend for a while. I learned some of my friends got along with each other and some just got along with me. I've been able to keep friends for many, many years because I figured that one out.

I learned I liked boys and liked having a boyfriend, even if it was in name only, and we rarely were in the same space together, but wrote tiny love letters and passed them through our friends.

I learned I would be shorter and smaller than all my friends, and wouldn't need a bra until well into junior high. I learned that wasn't a bad thing because the boys popped girls' bra straps. A lot. I learned to wear shorts under my Catholic school uniform skirt because those same boys would fall down and try to look under our skirts.

I learned that older boys in high school liked the freshman girls but not for long-term. They were bored with their same-ole, same-ole girls and dabbled with the fresh meat. I learned they quickly bored with me and took off back to their junior or senior girls. I learned that the upperclassmen girls disliked me on the spot because of this. I finally learned to stop taking the taunts from those bitchy girls and fight back to save my own sanity. Eventually I learned to not date the older guys because they were not worth all the trouble.

I learned there was a boy who could love me because we were friends first and he respected me because he was brought up right, and was that kind of boy. I learned what it was like to depend on someone, and trust someone, and enjoyed my senior year with him and my other life-long friends.



I learned what I wanted to do as a major/career and which college I would attend to pursue that goal. I learned that I was ready to live on my own as soon as my parents left me and my roommate in our new apartment for the first time. I learned to keep my old friends close, but to make an effort to meet new ones and expand my circle of friends beyond my hometown.



I learned that fraternity parties were dangerous, and mixing alcohol was very, very stupid. I learned that skipping ONE class wasn't the end of the world. I learned not to put metal in the microwave. I learned that turning off your heater when you leave for Christmas break isn't smart when it freezes and the pipes burst, spewing water all down the inside of your closet and flooding your apartment with 4 inches of water. I learned how to pay bills, use a credit card responsibly, and balance a checkbook.

I learned to love another boy, who also was an old friend first, and who became my best friend and boyfriend for those college years, until we both outgrew each other (it happens at age 21) and then I learned heartbreak, and lost myself for a while, not knowing myself and because of that, not knowing what I really wanted in a man.

I learned to trust again from a nice boy who wasn't going the same direction in life that I was, but who listened to me and made me laugh and who didn't ask much of me. I took a job far away from anyone I knew and learned I could live really on my own, although I learned I did not like being truly THAT alone. Evenutally I learned this boy would stand by me and was never jealous or intimidated by my successes, and he came from a good family, and I thought he would a good husband and father. I learned I was finally ready for marriage and to begin my adult life.

I learned what family is. I learned how to build a household and make a home and be part of my own family, our team. I learned what real responsibility is, and became the person to handle the business of our little family.


By this time I was close to 30 years old. And it was then that I learned to fully and completely love someone. My babies. My little girls. They taught me I was able and willing to live my life totally beholden to them, without question. And I learned my goal in life is to be the best possible guide to a good life for each of them.

My 30s began with Motherhood in full swing. There were some rough patches. I learned that I was beginning to find myself and wasn't always happy with the choices I had made. I tried to figure out what to change, and made mistakes, but I learned from them. I learned to take care of me, for once. My babies were growing up and not as needy, so I learned what to do to lose the extra weight I'd carried after having them, and that I loved biking and running. This time with myself allowed me to examine what I was doing, and if I was happy. I learned I was not. I learned that I had a desire to see more of this world and to have friends who shared some of the activities I enjoyed.

I clung to my girls as I knew I couldn't live without them, but I had learned that their dad and my's time was up. I arranged my life so that the girls wouldn't be uprooted or jossled around, and that they knew their parents loved them even though we no longer lived together. I learned a failed marriage and a broken home made me very, very sad.

I learned I could be happy and love again, then with Romeo. I was able to have the travels I wanted, and the friends I wanted, and the confidante and best friend I'd been missing for so long. It also gave me the time to understand so much about my adult self-- the opinions and standards and needs and limitations that have grown within me over all of these 40 years, but I ended it on my terms and for my own peace of mind.

So now I am hitting this new milestone. A half-way point? Possible, but not probable. I am proud to have taken in all these lessons and have come out as a 40 year old with solid convictions, and physical and emotional strengths, and life knowledge. That sounds like a superhero, but I am most definitely not that.

I'm just a girl, who happens to be 40, and has learned to love it.

Alone on an Iceberg, er...blog.

I'm not sure what I thought I'd be doing on this blog when I started it. I thought I'd put down funny thoughts and stories and make my few readers laugh with me or when I'd throw out a problem perplexing me, have someone offer advice. But now I feel like I'm avoiding it. Like I wanna whine and bitch, but don't want anyone to know how NOT-together I have it. I wanna blog for me but this forum forces me to publicize my wailings. I guess it's good for me to get it out of my head and into the light. I'm not one for airing my dirty laundry with just anyone, but the essence of a BLOG is to do just that.

Blog...what a stupid word.

Blog. Blog. Bloggity-blog, blog, blog...blaaaahhhhhhgggg....ok, I feel ready now.

Nothing really joyful is going on right now- only a lot of things to worry about, and wallow in, and mope around about. I am about to turn 40 in a two short weeks, but I'm in good shape for my age (except for my GD eyesight which has the nerve of betraying me by getting weaker), so that's not it. I guess what's weighing on me is that I have a big, effing question mark to stare at which is called "the next 40 years" of which I have no control over and don't have a clue how it will turn out. As a young person, like everyone else, I assumed I'd have my shit together and set in place at 40. Married, kids growing like weeds, work, friends, and stability and travel plans on the horizon. A nest egg to add to and depend on for those upcoming Golden Years.

I have a lot of these things, so I shouldn't be all piss and vinegar. My work is solid even in the most unsolid of economic times. My friends are awesome. I have several to choose from when I need a shoulder, or an ear. My nest egg is holding steady, maybe even growing, and since I have the stable job, I haven't dipped into it. I've traveled. My house is my own. I can buy myself or my kids things we need and even things we want. We have health insurance. We have dental insurance. Both kids have Nintendo DSes and bikes and new shoes and the cutest Walmart, Kohl's, and Target clothes you ever did see. These are the good things I have, and I recognize I am blessed.

For myself, finding a life partner is that current blackhole in my future. I was supposed to have that deal already wrapped up by now. I envy my friends who have stayed with their first loves, although there aren't many of them left. Either that or the "marrieds" are staying far away from me out of fear I have something contagious. I don't feel I even know what my type IS after my few experiences in my recent foray into datinghood. I'm starting to resent Match.com for dangling guys with alleged potential in front of me, and who I can clearly see have "viewed" me, but who apparently aren't interested no matter how high my "match percentage" is to them. Trust me, I've tweaked my profile and winked at guys in efforts to start something going, but the pickin's, they be slim.

Even the few good ones I've talked with or met I have a hard time mustering up the interest to keep it going, and apparently they feel the same. Bachelor #4 went away out of sheer neglect. That and the fact that chatting with him was about as exciting as watching paint dry. I'm starting to feel I don't want to meet my future love this way and I should maybe take a break from all the online action. The Austin area is teeming with divorced dads and I'm bound to bounce off of one without even trying. Yeah, sure. Eventually.

I also am tired. Tired every day. Plain ole' worn out, physically and mentally and emotionally. All 3 wrapped up in one big ball of apathy- and that ain't good. I drudge through my weekly routines and commitments and haven't been feeling the joie de vive, not like I think I should. I am happiest out on my bike, especially riding with friends, but all my other priorities limit me to only get rides sporadically. My kids need me and they are verbal enough to tell me that, and I feel a mountain of guilt if I take off for my own joy at the expense of theirs.

My kids' JOY is my other worry. My oldest, Lil Lady, is hitting puberty and has a mouth on her that can cut through cement when she's unleashing the angst upon her mother. She saves it up all day at school, when she doesn't understand a math theory, or her friend tells her she doesn't like her outfit, or she has to stay at the Y-afterschool for longer than she'd like...she saves it, and before we've even made the full 3 minute ride home from the Y to our house, she's begun with either hitting her sister, or telling me everything I do and say is wrong and it must mean I don't love her. She is quick to pull out the "you don't love me" when she's feeling particularly wronged. We go 10 rounds before I finally wise up and stop responding to her tirade and giving her the satisfaction of ignoring everything around me to concentrate on besting her. I finally wise up and shut my mouth and ignore her, and after trying to goad me back in and failing, she literally deflates and my sweet Lil Lady comes back to me. She still calls me "Mommy" and likes to chat about things like shaving her legs, growing out her bangs, and her future career (she's always trying to nail down her future job). When times are good, we love to snuggle on the couch and watch Modern Family and CSI together.

Then there's Chillgirl, who never knows when her sister will start to scream or hit, and because she's the littlest in the house, gets the brunt of her sister's tirades. Its quite possible (Lil Lady's counselor thinks so) that even though I divorced their dad when they were 4 and 8 years old, Lil Lady thinks the addition of Chillgirl was the beginning of the end of our marriage. She truely may believe that having a sister come into the picture complicated things between her parents beyond repair. I've told LL many other reasons why her parents are not living together, but she says she began her admittedly drama-filled persona at about 4 years old, coincidentally when her sissy came along.

But I shouldn't underestimate her sissy. Chillgirl looks at me with those big brown eyes and will still throw me a goofy face, even in the midst of a meltdown by her sister. This kid has a million funny faces to show me, like that poster of little cartoon faces showing all the different emotions they use with kids in therapy, and she will make me smile even when I've got steam coming out of my ears. Now Chillgirl is not always totally without fault. I sometimes can watch the gears moving behind those eyes and she's fully aware of how to passively-aggressively ef her sister up. And when karma works its magic, she gets her back. Oh yeah she does.



This is not to say these two little girls don't love each other. They usually play happily together and watch out for each other at school. I've walked into the Y and caught them laughing together and I've listened in the house and heard them playing "teacher/student" or "store clerk/customer". Its hilarious when they role-play. I think about growing up with a sister and she was definitely my target when I wasn't in the mood to be nice to anyone, so I keep telling myself this is all normal growing pains. This is the last week they will be at the same school at the same time together. Ever. I'm sad about that, so why shouldn't they be?

These being my biggest concerns in life, I look back on this buh-buh-blog and realize I have so much. I am in control of my own happiness now.

I now know why I started blogging in the first place.

Clarity.

Lessons in Humility: "So It Goes"...

Firstly, I want to thank the guru of love who came up with the splendid idea that single people should go online and post pictures of themselves, write about themselves, and basically only represent their absolute best, yet probably untrue selves to show the world. Put on display for others to view if they are looking for someone of the same age, or proximity, or "he likes felines too/he's a middle child too" (really?).

I do see the value in this form of what I'm loosely calling "dating". I have already met some nice guys. I would not have the opportunity to know so much information about a man I might meet in a bar, or at one of the kids' ball games, or in passing during my day. I cand reply or delete at will. That I get. Unfortunately now I have the eerie feeling that everywhere I go, there are men from Match.com around me, and I'm paranoid they are looking me with quizical looks on their faces which could mean "where have I seen you before?" and me doing the same. It's really an odd sensation that surprises me I'm out in public these days.

Daily on my email I am confronted by the never-marrieds, the divorcees, and the widowers who are supposedly my matches. Some are only 86% my match...WTF is that, you ask? The guy will be "athlete and toned", but he'll be agnostic. Or he'll love dogs, but never wanted kids. Uh, ok..hello, Match? Have you even LOOKED at my profile when you sent me this prize of a man? I have two kids. Count 'em, two. So if this freak doesn't want kids, then I'm going to venture a guess that he doesn't want me. The other bathos bit of knowledge is that MY profile is being sent to THEM as a possible match. I cringe to think of them looking and answering Match's question "Does she interest you? YES/MAYBE/NO" and then them going, "eh..." and moving on to the next female 30-45 on their list.

I've had six weeks of feeling like a piece of candy, stepping out of the limo, to meet my next prince, or frog as the case may be. The four guys I've actually met have probably been good catches/matches for some woman out there, but I'm not sure Match got it right for me. These guys emailed me, based on what they saw on my profile and I answered them if I liked what I saw on theirs.

Bachelor #1: Decided to talk to him because he ran and cycled and did triathlons, and because I needed to get off my ass and meet someone finally. He was 50 years old but I didn't want to rule him out, so I gave it a shot because I knew I'd have plenty to talk about with him. We had a nice lunch but when he mentioned he had a granddaughter a year older than my youngest, I was pretty much out.

Bachelor #2: This guy was my age, divorced with kids close to my kids' age. Good job and liked things I liked. I met him for coffee and it went well but then after that, nothing much more. It was a bit dry from the start, and I hoped we'd talk more but he only emailed and texted and it never got off the ground so I stopped answering him. He'll be good for someone a lot less chatty than me.

Bachelor #3: He was a lesson in what NOT to do. He emailed and I replied and we already were making each other laugh by then. He called and we talked for 3 nights before we met and it was plain ole fun. We met at lunch and the great repoire continued. He asked if he could kiss me when I was leaving and I told him no. Then I got in the car and he leaned over and kissed me anyway. More calls and opening up about our exes and kids and families. It even worked out for him meeting me out at a live-band event with our kids there, and all went well. He kept saying how great I was, and we talked of a Friday night date the next weekend when we were both kidless. But then as that work week began he seemed a bit stressed about work and issues with his ex and daughter, and less talkative and then he said I wasn't talkative but I didn't think I was acting any different than the week before. I had made the last call on that Tuesday to him during the day to chat as we'd done the few days before. I was so stupid to ask what we might do that Friday night, and he said he hadn't even thought about it yet. But we ended the call in what I thought was good spirits, but he didn't call again that night or the next day or the next. I wasn't calling him again so I wouldn't appear stalkerish. I later thought about our last conversation and me asking about Friday on a Tuesday--that DID seem geeky and a bit desperate. Ugh. Rookie mistake.

Friday came and my BFF Cora and I already hashed out that this guy was a jerk and not considerate enough to check in with me after 3 days of no talking to either cancel the date or confirm it. I still had hope because he had been such a fun guy and I thought we had something starting. But noon came and went and then I began to think, well this is just RUDE. At 4:30pm, he calls. Starts right in with what a shitty week he's had and that he wouldn't be good company and he just needs to stay in tonight. No big surprise for me, but how do I handle it? Act shocked and/or pissed, or cool and aloof? I chose cool and aloof. Told him jokingly not to blame me for his female bosses irrationality and his ex-wife's bitchiness. That I'd been "nothing but nice"...ha...ha...ha...<<<< this was said jokingly but is typed sarcastically, as in, WTF, you are in a bad mood so you prefer to go wallow in it over going out with a cool chick (that'd be me) and having fun and forgetting your troubles? He said we'd have to "try again", and I said alright I'll talk to you later VERY non-chalantly. But in my head I was saying, Hey dude, go EF Yourself....that's what I wanted to say, sure, but nah...HE AIN'T WORTH IT. Girls! Did you hear me on this one? NO GUY is worth allowing them to pull this crap, especially when you are in the "getting to know you so you better fake the nice guy crap to me for as long as you can" phase.

Too many other profiles to scan...

Bachelor #4: So far-so good with this guy. Experienced as I am now, after 3 other whole meet-n-greets, he's doing everything right so far. No, its not fireworks and sex-talk quite yet, but he's interesting, likes skiing and cycling (BONUS!), is unattached from his ex by 6 years, and has a child who he puts first. We emailed quite a bit before talking on the phone, where not overly too much was shared, but a date for coffee was agreed upon. An email the day before the coffee-date was sent by him to check in with me and confirm the coffee-date, and the coffee-date happened as advertised. That went well, an hour, not too long, and we left each other with only a hug. I worried that couldve been it but by the time I checked my email a few hours later, he'd written a "Follow-up" letter to say thanks for meeting him and hopes to get together soon.

Yay Mr. Nice Guy...you're doing great!

Adios and Muchas Gracias, Costa Rica!

"Located in the Central America isthmus, immediately north of Panamá, with ports in both the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans and 153 highway miles between them.
Our country holds a privileged place in the world, being found in the center of the Central American Isthmus. On its east lies the Caribbean Sea and to its west, the Pacific Ocean. It is bordered by Nicaragua tothe North and Panama to the South.

A small tropic country, Costa Rica lies between two oceans. This, combined with its complex mountainous topography, gives rise to a extensive variety of habitants. These range from tropical dry forest and lowland rainforest to páramo, with a corresponding difference in climatic conditions. In general, temperatures vary between 14 and 22 degrees Centigrade in the high Central Valley and between 22 and 28 Centigrade in the lowlands. Temperatures remain relatively stable throughout the year, although some slight changes take place according to whether it is "Summer" (the dry season) or "Winter" (the wet season). Summer usually prevails from December to April and Winter from May to November. These seasons are clearly defined on the Pacific side of the country but are much less noticeable on the Caribbean side where the precipitation is much more evenly distributed throughout the year."
http://www.costaricamap.com/ing/aboutgeneral.html#9



I am a lucky girl. I have been able to travel to beautiful places. But I had a new opportunity- to travel to a beautiful place OUTSIDE the USA. I had not gone out of our states before. Had a passport that was lily white clean. I got it for a potential trip to Canada. Didn't make that trip. Last week I got my very first stamp in my passport. Costa Rica.

Had to look on a map to remember where the country is. It's in Central America for you geographically-challenged folks (like me). Wedged between Panama and Nicaragua, with water on both sides. The Caribbean on one side, and the Pacific Ocean on the other. Flew into San Jose, the capital, which is directly in the center of the country. This trip was planned by my boss, Red Bird, because he owns a home there, so I really did not know much about about where I was going and what I would be doing. This was the way to go. I had no stress about it and no expectations. People would ask, where are you gonna be there? I dunno, I would say.

Jaco. HA-CO. Red Bird's house is on Jaco Beach. In the cuidad of Jaco. Its an hour from the airport by van, zipping through the countryside, our driver barely stopping at street signs and passing slower-moving cars or big trucks. Would've been quite scary if I had been paying attention, but I was chatting with my friends and admiring the landscape. Oh, one thing about Costa Rica. HOT and HUMID. At least 86 degrees with 100% humidity so you immediately sweat when you step outside and you don't stop. If I'd stayed longer I might've gotten used to the climate, because the locals didn't look as uncomfortable as I felt, but my sweatpores were in revolt and oozed liquid full blast. Anyone headed to this area of the globe? Take as few clothes and as light of materials as you can find. We stayed in or around water as much as possible.

The locals in Costa Rica are great. They are poor but they desire work and work hard when given the chance. Every one of the folks that helped us, whether they spoke much English or not, tried so hard to accomodate us and gave us smiles that were genuine. We did a river raft tour, a canopy (forest zip line) tour, and an ATV tour and each time our guides were so informative, so polite, so gracious. I have deep respect for the Costa Ricans.

On my last day there, I spoke with the van driver at 4am on our way to the airport and he told me of his common-law wife, his older daughter who is now married but still his "sweetie girl" and his two young children who are 10 and 4. We talked about our kids' favorite tv shows and video games they love and how his older daughter works a job but still needs her dad to help her when her bicycle gets a flat tire. Our ATV tour guide told us all about his travels, but how he still loves his home of Costa Rica, for its beauty and laid-back style of life. Carlos, our housekeeper/cook, was in the Columbian Army with bullet-wound scars to prove it, asked my boss for work around his house and kept telling him he wanted to cook for him, and when Red Bird finally agreed, he found out Carlos was an excellent and creative cook who gets pleasure from our clean plates.






Their stories all are rags to riches, but their riches are big happy families at home, enough food on the table, and a job to go every morning. They could be annoyed with us Americans, or their long hours, or their small pay, but they seemed to take pleasure in helping us out and teaching us about their country, and making us welcome. It was the cherry on top of an already super sweet dessert of a vacation. I appreciated it immensely and hope to visit them and their beautiful country again real soon.

There might've been one local who was glad to see us go....


Hasta Luego, Costa Rica!

172 miles later...reflections on my Tour de Awesomeness

It started as a pipedream. To ride over 100 miles in one weekend. It has become a reality. I gained a lot more than just mileage over last weekend. Good friends, great sights, cycling comraderie, and oh yeah, an aching body and about 5 extra pounds of water weight.

I learned a lot about myself though- about my drive to finish something I start, how I can push myself to go beyond my own expectations, and how my competitiveness is my best quality.



The ride was for a cure for MS, which is so much more important than anything I took from it, so knowing all 13,000 of us were there to support that cause made me feel like Oprah or Angelina Jolie, minus my hot Brad Pitt hubby. Like we were rock stars, with people yelling well-wishes and thank yous, some in wheelchairs with signs saying "I was diagnosed with MS...",reminding us why we were there. It gave me chills every time....



I had a great team to ride with. The five of us packed up a buttload of gear and took off to Houston Friday night. The great part of this ride is it starts in Houston but we are riding HOME. The Finish Line is in front of the state capitol building in our hometown of Austin, TX. So it was a bit of a trek to make to get to the Starting Line but well worth it on the other end. We got a hotel within a mile of the Omni hotel, the official starting point of the MS150. Our sponsor team, Team Dow, due to its size planned to start at a secondary start location which actually would've made our first day trip 20 miles shorter. I was pumped about this idea. Only 80 miles the first day instead of 100? Oh yeah, count me in-- that sounds doable. Never mind that my longest single day trip before this was only 54 miles long and that wasn't my best biking-riding-attitude day. I was sure that with my training along with the frequent stops and the comraderie of this big of a group ride, I would be able to pull off 80 miles. But due to logistics with getting our bikes there and some of the team (the guys) wanting to do the Omni start, we as a group (I got vetoed 4 to 1) decided to go for it and do the Omni start and the 100 miles. In one day. With a second day of over 70 miles. WTH am I thinking? Horrible butt-pain, weakened muscles, dehydration, mental failure, bike failure, general body failure were a few of the things I was thinking...

So 5am came and up we were and away we went, into the dark rainy morning, over to the huge group of folks amassing around the Omni Hotel. As with all organized rides, 80s music was playing and an announcer was announcing loudly on the PA, so quickly I forgot it was only 6am and I was getting jazzed to head out. Rolling our bikes closer to the Start, we hear a bang and looked over in time to see some poor dude fall over with his bike, still clipped in. BEFORE the ride. If that'd been me, I'd have crawled back to the hotel. Not even out of the gate and you're already sniffing pavement. Blimey!

100 miles on a bike is called a Century Ride. This would be my first. I never in a million years thought I'd do my first Century Ride with another 70+ the very next day. Ay-yi-yi, what had I done? Off we went...the first 25 flew by and we were at the first (actually the 2nd, we bypassed the 1st) rest stop on the ride. This was a massive amount of happy cyclists in a grassy and because of the rain, muddy, area with bikes laid around everywhere and people chatting and snacking and waiting for the port-a-potties, which was where I headed. Then I grabbed a banana (my first of many on this ride), an orange, and a pack of Grandma's PB cookies (so yum, and so naughty but perfect for a workout kick), and refilled my water bottles.

After that we didn't stop again until lunch, in Bellville, TX. Another great part of the ride was the scenery-- all farmlands and fields among the small Texas towns with Main Streets and water towers and wildflowers that held the MS150 pitstops with pride. Props go to towns such as Industry, Nelsonville, Fayetteville, Winchester, Bastrop, and of course La Grange. Probably the MS150 ride was one of the bigger events of the year in their towns, with folks sitting in lawn chairs and on their porches to wave to us and cheer us on. There'd be banners and signs welcoming us, and good luck wishes on their store signs and church marquis. One man, with his yellow compact car, would stand by his car and swing a noisemaker around and jump up and down cheering for us and pointing at us and yelling who-knows-what as we rode by. He showed up no less than 4 times in 4 random locations along the way. Always excited, always happy, always cheering. Thanks to that happy Dude, because he was a welcome sight each time for us weary riders.

We rode the rolling hills through Central Texas that afternoon and ended up in LaGrange for the night. This was tons of tents set up on the fairgrounds with all the different teams and individuals bunking there for the night. We got bused to the showers at the nearby high school and back to our fancy tent for an excellent fajita dinner with our Dow team. Sleeping on cots in a huge circus tent with 200 others was a new experience for me.

I was pleasantly surprised, and my 100 miles of riding-fatigue knocked my ass out so I didn't hear the snoring, the rain, or whatever else was going on in there. Dow did it right and our tent was awesome and even the squeaky camping cots didn't suck to crash on. One BIG surprise in my quasi-camping experience? The port-a-potties. Yes, I said port-a-potties. These were no ordinary nasty open-hole p-a-ps, these were swanky, upscale p-a-ps. I could NOT believe it. They were lighted, with bath mats, and a shelf in there with bath items, kleenex box, and pot pourri. A mirror, a sink with water pumped by a floor pedal, and a toilet that flushed like a airplane potty, but with foot pedal like the sink had. I didn't ask the men if they had the same ones, but ours said WOMEN on them. Why would I ask them? Its our little secret as far as I'm concerned. I know, I shouldve taken a picture, but I didn't. I do have manners.

The overnight rain cleared just in time for our mass exodus from LaGrange and all 13,000 of us took off (in waves so it took a while) and rode off into the semi-dark for another long day in the saddle. But all I could think is, I'm going home. It made it easy. I'd heard the lore of the hoop-lah awaiting us. And 6 hours later, Austin did NOT disappoint! Tons of people lining the roads into downtown cheering us into the Finish Line. I don't think I've ever felt anything like it. They knew we'd just rode all the way from Houston. They knew we'd raised millions of dollars for Multiple Sclerosis. They knew we were tired and our butts were sore. The sheer number of people there, cheering with the majestic Capitol building in the background just filled me to the brim with pride and happiness.

I'd completed my first Century Ride and a second 72-miler day, both of which are now officially my PB, or "personal best". I pushed myself longer and harder than I'd ever done before. I flew past athletes in better shape than I, or younger than I, because the speed and the cardio is what I love on the bike. I was able to plan and execute a 3-day ordeal of which I didn't grasp the hugeness until it was finally over. And now, as my muscles are starting to feel normal again, I'm thinking about my next long ride already, as a mother with a newborn forgets her miserable pregnancy and labor pains and dreams of baby #2. And yes, I am thinking I would like to be a part of the MS150 again next year.

By golly, I think I'm addicted. Who knew?

The Tale of Two Sistas

My girls. My offspring. My little mirror-images of myself. They love me, they hate me...and Lord help me, they aren't even teenagers yet!

Everyone is supposed to have a sister to be there through thick and thin, bound by blood, if only to conspire against their mothers from the moment they can talk to each other, right? I have one. Can't imagine growing up without her. Can't imagine now not having her live 3 miles away and intermixing our families on a regular basis. My poor brother never had a close sibling to commiserate with or lean on because my sister and I were less than 2 years apart, shared a room, and did pretty much everything together. We were bookends, a matched set, wore similar clothes, hairstyles, had matching dolls (mine was a white baby doll and hers was a black baby doll~~ sure, why not??). We played with the same friends, attended the same schools, and even dated the same guys (at different times- she'd love 'em and leave 'em and I'd come around a few years later and date 'em!). My mom threw her hands up at the two of us, let us pretty much run our own lives, only occasionally putting her foot down on our curfews, or how much we were able to spend on clothes (Mom was a sale-watcher, the bane of our fashion existence), or offering opinions on boys we brought home (don't think Mom ever liked a-one).

Sis was(is) younger so she was constantly up my ass, hanging around my friends, my boyfriends, needing something, whining about something, instigating something. I fully admit there were hellacious times of knock-down, drag-out, chase around the house and into the street fights. Ok, I'll be totally honest-- I knocked her down, dragged her around, and chased her around the house and into the street. I guess I was the aggressor to her instigator. We fed off each other...at time I'm sure it was a nasty sight. Now that I think about it, it explains a lot of my mother's current behaviors. My dad walked around quietly, head down, trying to stay out of it. He still does that, come to think of it.


Now, back to the two blessed mini-me's.... Karma is biting me in the oops-I-made-my-mother-a-nutso ass. Now I'm the lunatic Mom who is always a step or two behind them. Case in point, just this morning:

We get up for school/work, and as usual Lil Lady took her sweet time getting out of bed- It's after 7:00 (we leave the house at 7:30am).

Lil Lady: Mom, I just remembered I have to work the school store at 7:20.

Me: Uh, it's 7:14 now. (whining starts) Dress fast and grab an apple on the way out! Chillgirl, let's go!

Chillgirl gets her stuff and makes her way to the car, then stops.

Chillgirl: Wait I need something! (runs back in)

Lil Lady flips out: Oh My God! Leave her!

Chillgirl walks back out, in no special hurry, to us waiting in the car, to her sister who is panicking.

Me: What were you getting??

Chillgirl: A dollar, to buy 5 pencils.

This child KNOWS she doesn't need 5 pencils. She knows we are in a hurry. She suddenly didn't know how to tie her shoes this morning either. Her sister is having a conniption and she's strolling along like its a Sunday morning walk in the park. Master Instigator. I see right through that innocent act. She's a plotter, that one. The youngest ones always are. (Sis, you know exactly what that means) Build 'em up with idolization and praise, and tear 'em down with Jedi mind-tricks. Chillgirl should consider a career in the CIA. Or a spot on the next season of Survivor. Lil Lady may need therapy, but she's not without fault here. I can come up with many stories where the drama's on the other foot between these two. The know each others' buttons. And mine. I'm screwed.

Ah, the life of single mom. I am the constant referee of interactions such as these. Its two against one, and sometimes I just put in my iPod headphones, turn on my music and walk around the house oblivious to the turmoil and strife brewing around me. I get through it the best I can, and love them the most I can, and teach them when I can. Thank God we are Catholics, so guilt works really well. "Jesus would NOT like what you just did!" is commonly exclaimed around our home.

If I'm lucky, they'll grow up and stay close, and be there for each other always. I'm lucky that way, so I wish that for them. They will have different personalities and lead different lives, but they have the common ground called Family, so they are bound by that, and will thrive because of it.

Butt in saddle for 2 days/160+ miles...worth it for a good cause.

Seven days and counting for my debut in the MS150 bike ride. I joined my Austin cycling buddies on the Dow Chemical team to fundraise and to ride together. The Dow team alone as raised over $120,000 for Multiple Sclerosis. Donations in my name are still accepted (hint, hint folks)! We ride from Houston to Austin in two days. This is a big deal. A big deal for the cause and a big deal because I have never ridden so far in one day, let alone two days in a row. About 80 miles on Saturday, and close to another 80 on Sunday. Why is it called the MS150, you ask? Beats me, because that route is well over 150 miles.



I decided to do this ride with my friends back in January. They were doing it,and I jumped on the bandwagon, thinking April was soooo far away. Uh, hello! How did this year go into warp-speed and it's ended up here already?

Bring it on! We are ready. We have trained. And trained. We've rode long hours in all weather conditions, cold, wet, windy (oh hells yeah, the winds this winter/spring have been a big ole booger for our training), and Austin has some of the best roads and hills to train on. I have my trusty Cervelo bike, "Dash" as I call him (her?), to carry me along the way. I've been cycling these roads for 4 years now and am proud to say some many of the hills that used to eat my lunch I have now conquered time and time again. Not to say they don't wear my ass out, but I am no longer defeat-ed, I defeat those sumsabitches!

I have battle scars. Every person who's consistently rode a bike, and especially a bike with shoeclips, has fallen down. I mean Fall...Down. Picture an old useless building being imploded and toppling down in one big piece. That is a cyclist who can't unclip before he/she hits the ground. Boom. This usually causes scraped knees/shins/hips (clipped feet and legs taking the brunt of the fall) or bruised wrists/elbows/shoulders (uselessly trying to stop the ground from coming at you). I've slid off roads onto grass and into curbs. Passing cars have sprayed gravel at me. And especially fun has been some jerky motorists honking, yelling, or shaking their fists at me and my companions. Even had one brainiac threw a full can of Sprite at us, and it barely missed my friend's helmet. Not complaining here. These are the facts of life on a roadbike.


Here's the evidence of my cycling activities today...rode out around Pflugerville and Hutto and Elgin today with my friend. Forgot to spread the sunblock all the way down my arm. The white mark halfway up is my watchband. My hands stay white because I wear gloves. I went sleeveless today to try to cover up the tan line from when I've worn half-sleeve jerseys before. My feet are white too and I have a line on my mid-thigh. Not pretty. Cycling is not conducive to the upcoming bikini season...

But as I've said before, I love it. Right now the bluebonnets and other wildflowers are rampant and beautiful, sprawling across the farms and fields we pass. Today we rode over a bridge and looked off to the side below and saw two gray mules (donkeys?) grazing hip-deep in pretty purple wildflowers and tall green grass near some woods. I wished I'd had a good camera to catch the sight. When the wind is at your back (as all cylists wish it always was), you feel like you are flying. My body is moving Dash but the wind is carrying us both.

The MS150 is a long trip, but with my friends rolling by my side, and great support from the Dow team and the MS150 ride coordination for the break-stops and lunch-stops, and our overnight stay in LaGrange at the half-way point, we will glide into Austin to the Finish Line with sore butts, but smiles on our faces.

My personal donation page:

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR/Bike/TXHBikeEvents?px=7622378&pg=personal&fr_id=12962