Yesterday morning I opened a new box of cereal (off-brand Kashi Go Lean from Aldi, it has something called “fiber sticks” in it) and had some sort of cartoon moment. As I was contemplating grabbing a knife or scissors to hack open the unbelievably tough waxed paper, I decided to give pulling it apart one more go, and KA-BOOM– cereal exploded everywhere. In the toaster, under the coffee maker, probably into the T.G.I. Friday’s margarita glasses on top of the fridge, but I haven’t looked there yet. A good three bowls of cereal were now strewn into every tiny nook in the kitchen, and the cleaning process took minutes out of my precious breakfast time. At least the toaster’s now empty; I found a chunk of charred toast way down at the bottom when I was banging on it upside down to get all the fiber sticks out.

The girl next to me in the River Room just had the audacity to look over and judge my sanity while I was singing a song to Neil about getting finishing my article. Not many people know this, but I’ve become quite talented at making up nonsense songs and singing them to NPH, who always at least pretends to be entertained. We’ve become quite the musical duo– me making up lyrics about a little cat in a trash can, while he takes more of the Weird Al parody route. I’d like to think I’m the more musically gifted one however, as Neil just takes popular songs and replaces certain words to be about Fergus. My favorite will always be Elton John’s “Fergus Day Nights Alright,” though I am enjoying “Who’s that Hound?” to the tune of Rihanna’s “Who’s that Chick?”

As you can see, I’ve completely given up on academia. Since I have zero, zilch, goose egg to do tomorrow, I suppose I’ll troll the Internet begging for post-graduation employment. Oh, I’ve run twice more since Monday’s doomsday workout, and while it’s gotten a bit easier, I’m still not going Olympic distances. Which frustrates me greatly because I was apparently born with a much larger “All or Nothing” part of my brain than the average person.

Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhh, haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuhhhh

Oh, I’m sorry. That was my lungs greeting you good afternoon. ‘Tis a lovely day for a run, no? There’s never really a great day to pick up running after neglecting it for… an entire season… so I bit the bullet and figured why not today. Well, I’ll tell you why not today. Or at least why not an hour and a half after lunch. There’s a reason I prefer running first thing in the morning– there’s not pita and hummus sitting in my stomach that about a mile in creeps up and talks hold of my esophagus screaming, “You idiot! You idiot!” and slamming on my insides to let it back out the way it came. No, I didn’t puke, but holy poor digestion, it didn’t feel great. I suppose I could say it felt kinda nice to get back out there, though more seems to jiggle and my form is for shit. (You’ve seen Phoebe on “Friends” run, right? No?)

I didn’t exactly share her enthusiasm, but that was generally how graceful it went down. Overall, I pounded out about 2.5 miles– you may save your standing ovation for later– and I’m thinking about registering for the campus 5K on Sunday. (There’s also a 10K, but after taking a look at the course, I believe I had what you might call a “hell no” moment.) Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready to go hear Michele Bachmann (yes, that one) speak on campus later. I’m all about being open to opposing points of view, and I’m genuinely interested in what she could possibly have planned to say to a group that is mostly turning out in hopes they’ll witness her burst into flame onstage.

The thermometer outside one of the banks downtown read 64 today, yee-haw. It feels more like April than February, and I’m experiencing some major Germany flashbacks. I took full advantage of the above average temps and went for my first outside run of the year this morning. I did about 2.5 miles which actually really helped some of the lingering soreness from boot camp, though my lungs and legs seemed to be in a contest of which wanted to make me feel more out of shape during the whole thing. Fergus and I also went on a walk after class, though when his very low to the ground tummy meets this melty/muddy/puddle stuff, let’s just say either I’ll be investing in a lot more dog shampoo– not exactly likely since baths are not his favorite– or we might just have a dingy pup for the entire season.

The concert on Monday was, in a word, amazing. In two words, holy crap. We went to dinner at Bier Stube where they had an impressive imported beer selection and a semi-authentic menu that did not disappoint. (I mean, it was no Germany, but for Moline, Illinois it was pretty legit.) We got to the venue right as the doors were opening, and we wasted no time finding our seats which were really good. It’s not that big of a place (they play arena football there which as Neil informed me is the size of only half a football field) so it seems there aren’t many seats that could be deemed nosebleed. Both of us were quite surprised by the amount of preteen and grade school-aged children in attendance. Granted, many were with their parents, but they all had their own Ozzy shirts and appeared to be just as big of fans as the leather-clad, ruffian (thanks for the spelling lesson, Kayla) middle-aged chaperons. (I JUST LEARNED THAT ‘CHAPERON’ DOES NOT HAVE AN ‘E’ AT THE END. Holy schmoligans.)

Slash came out at 7:20, even though our tickets said the show didn’t start until 7:30, and played through lots of Guns ‘n Roses songs as well as some from his recent solo album, all with Myles Kennedy singing vocals. While he was no Axl, he’s not at all a bad singer and it was a really good performance. Of course I am in no way biased. Seeing Slash play Sweet Child o’ Mine and Paradise City in person (shirtless!!) made every single one of my adolescent dreams come true. It was so. awesome. Ozzy’s set started with a super funny parody video in which he was CGI-ed into pop culture stuff. For example, he was an Avatar, then he was Mike “The Situation” in a clip from Jersey Shore, then he appropriately became Iron Man from a clip from the second movie, and he was Beyonce in Gaga’s “Telephone” video which was absolutely my favorite. He finally came out, long black trench coat and hair a-waving, launching into most of his greatest hits, and generally still owning and rocking out on the stage despite being in his sixties. The entire concert was amazing, I had a huge smile on my face the entire time, the crowd loved, two thumbs up to all involved.

And with that, I’m off to make sure my car is super, sparkling clean since it’s my job to pick up our keynote speaker for PR Day (which is tomorrow!!!) from the airport.

Ouch. That is all that can describe how I feel right now, and it’s only perhaps twenty minutes post-workout. Let me back up here a bit…
Yesterday while surfing around on the university’s CRWC site, I saw that at 5:30 tonight there would be a Zumba class which I immediately decided I need to be a part of. Roomie Lauren had to work, but Rachael and I arrived at the rec today at about 5:20, super eager to get our Zumba on (or basically get our heart rates up in any fashion besides the damn Dreadmill.) The facility was PACKED– unless you have no other time to go in the day, avoid the rec center like the plague anytime after 5 pm. Every machine was full… and so was our Zumba class. And Winter Break isn’t even over yet! Feeling quite pissed, but not defeated, we went up to the fitness track to pound out a mile before deciding there was probably something streaming on Netflix that could give us a nice workout in the comfort of our own apartment. By this time, Lauren was home and graciously offered up her new Jillian Michaels’ Yoga Meltdown DVD.

Sweet. I’ve never done yoga before but have always wanted to try, so we fired up that beast.
I HAVE NO STRENGTH ANYWHERE, AT ALL, IN MY BODY. This DVD was asking muscles to be moved and stretched in ways I could never have imagined while Jillian’s telling me to “melt your heart to the sky” and “focus on your breathing.” I’m sorry, I can’t really focus on much besides my severe lower back pain due to my inability to do any of these moves correctly. Needless to say, it was intense. It felt really good afterward, of course, but we are all already walking pretty slowly, and I’m not at all looking forward to what waking up tomorrow morning will feel like. Caitlin tells me a beer helps soreness, but that would require getting off the couch, something that’s not in the cards for a while. So what have we learned today? The rec center is insane and will only get more so in the weeks leading up to spring break; sign up for classes early; people who can do yoga are amazing. I will persevere and one day be one of them (or break my back trying.)

…and of course I can’t blog today without mentioning what I’m thankful for (but seriously, every time I go to do it, the first thing that pops in my mind is a food item. Today it would have been the bomb-tastic muffins Roomie Lauren made over the weekend. I had one this morning, not really sure if I was supposed to, but I’m pretty glad I did. Way to go, Fiber One Apple Cinnamon mix.) Instead, today I am officially thankful for running. I suppose I could also say my legs. Or the random urge I got to run today. You get the idea. It’s been a while (ahemtwomonthswhaaaat?!) since I’ve gone on a run, and today’s was glorious and strong and reminded me that I can just go out and do it and not get all mentally tweaked on adding mileage every single day and calories in vs. calories out and 13.1! 13.1! 13.1! I’m sure I’ll register for another half marathon in the spring, though I’ll need to keep my head in check while training for it. With the semester I’m looking at, it’ll be a miracle if I’ll have time to breathe (exaggeration? You wish) but perhaps that’s just the sort of thing with which running can better help me deal.

Today’s friendly reminder: the Class of 2011 graduates six months from next week.

Day Nine: Two smileys that describe your life right now
…are you kidding me. I refuse to do this one, mostly because I’m not sure they’ve invented an emoticon with the gun-to-head motion (it’s been that kind of week.) Thus, hold onto your pants, readers because YOU are getting to the END of this damn thing one day early (rejoicing, dancing in the streets, tears of unadulterated happiness– I get it.)

Day Ten: One confession
…this could be dangerous ground, though. I feel I don’t have much to confess seeing as this is a forum for my stream of consciousness anyway. The things I do have to confess have remained secret for good reason and thus I will now confess something mostly for accountability’s sake:
I haven’t run for like a month. And it’s not like I’ve taken up cycling or Zumba instead. Basically, I am an unmotivated lazy ass who has taken up far too much beer drinking and fried food-consumption all in the name of Hawkeye football. I don’t exactly have the metabolism of a 15-year-old boy, thus am getting– and I’m just gonna put it bluntly– kinda chunky. Or chunkier. Either way, it’s high time I get my act in gear because, quite frankly, it’s just not attractive.

Because I just got back from running five miles and am apparently delirious with endorphins, here’s a list of things I LOVE:
1. Comments. Not that you people write many of ‘em, but when I do get ones, nice ones that say “I’m reading! You’re funny! (Blush) You write better than my seven-year-old nephew!” I get all warm and fuzzy inside.
2. My new apartment. I will be posting pictures with roommate permission soon (no, not so you can know where I live then break in and kill me in my sleep– you best know I read that issue of Cosmo.) We have so much SPACE! I look around my room wondering if I should buy more things (shame on you, capitalism.) I literally have so much room for activities! In my past four or five– I move a lot– places I’ve lived, there have been multiple flights of stairs, leaving my father and other strong-armed helpers extremely agitated at my inability to use any sort of common sense when choosing places to live. Not this time; FIRST FLOOR, baby! Also, my roommates are kinda the shit, and we’ve already named our dining room (!!!) Booze-a-palooza because of the unhealthy amount of shot glasses we’ve used for decoration. In the classiest way possible, of course.
3. Running. You knew this, but here’s an update– half marathon training is going (knock on wood) really well, and I’m constantly surprising myself and getting really proud of how far I can run. Cue the Rocky music or get Oprah on the phone because I am becoming that person.
4. NPH. Only because he’s taking me for sushi today since we still haven’t gone after our foiled attempt on Memorial Day. And because he helped me move in yesterday. But those are the only two reasons.
That’s gonna be all for now. My runner’s high is crashing and I’m now ready to chew off my arm– sustenance is greatly needed. Ohhh that reminds me of another thing I’ll add to the list:
5. Restaurants with food before the food. I’m talking bread baskets, chips and salsa, peanuts, etc. If I go to a restaurant, I’m hungry. The WORST wait in the world is the one between ordering and receiving your food. Ok, maybe not the worst, but dare I say it’s comparable to the wait on Christmas morning? My stomach is audibly growling here, Server, let’s get a MOVE on putting my order in.

I’m up weirdly early on a Sunday, filled with anticipation for picking up the keys to my NEW APARTMENT in a few hours. I haven’t actually seen the place– I trust Lauren and Rachael’s judgment (ooh new people to blog about)– and am itching to have my own kitchen, bed, whatever-as-long-as-it’s-not-713 in Iowa City again. Forget that I was just in Vegas less than two months ago when I tell you this, but I wanna go somewhere. Perhaps Colorado to visit D-Bag, or the Caribbean, or Vermont. That last one was only because I’ve never been there, but I imagine it’s nice. Class starts in three weeks, I am quite ambivalent about this, though the mighty job/ internship hunt is ON for the school year. A little part of me dies each time I see NO next to “Is this a paid internship?” on the UI’s Employment Expo (best. invention. ever.) but I’ve accepted that I will probably have to have a paying job not related to my major and then an unpaid internship on the side. And if this all could not take up any time on Saturdays during the months of September and October, that would be ideal; we’ve got some mighty tailgating plans this year. Oh, I ran almost eight miles yesterday. Pretty freakin’ ecstatic with myself. I’m hoping everyone else is town is too hungover to move in right away as I plan on doing– parents in IC, illegal parking, unloading heavy furniture, spider webs in my storage unit all give me unnecessary anxiety. I’m wearing a lovely pair of jorts for the move, be jealous.

Today I learned an important lesson: do not buy the cheapest thing on Amazon. It will come with poorly translated directions and generally frustrate the hell out of your already exhausted self who only needs this music player to get her through her very early run tomorrow morning. Yes, I’m officially on a training plan for the half marathon and it feels AMAZING and I have renewed faith in both the heavens and my shoddy left knee. While I’ve been suffering through with just my thoughts (RIP iPod, you went above and beyond the many years I asked of you) now that I’m going 5+ miles, some heavy dance beats do wonders for my morale. In Iowa City this weekend I did my first “long” run with the help of NPH’s iPod (which he gave me, then TOOK BACK when his newer one broke. Goddamn Indian Giver. Is that a racist term? If it is, I apologize. That’s just literally the only term I know for someone who gives you something then takes it back. Other than Giant Butthead.) I move into my apartment THIS WEEKEND and am beyond excited to have my name on an apartment in IC again after eight months of separation and/or couch-surfing at 713. I’m also looking forward to resuming a somewhat normal blogging schedule since perhaps life around my peers will inspire me more than life working for the man (albeit a very fun, exciting “Man” who has been an amazing experience) does. Back to individually converting MP4 files to MP3 to go on this new piece of shit contraption even though I’m sure there’s ten other easier ways to do this AND I should be in bed if not staying up to watch the season two premiere of Jersey Shore. How I got into this show (just recently! Over the weekend!) is a tale for another post. Or maybe never because I’m very, very ashamed I know what “GTL” stands for.

Currently I’m supposed to be putting in some hours at work, but the kindness of my boss coupled with a signed doctor’s note for rest means I’m off today.  To SLEEP!!  And let my blood return to normal.  Won’t you come along with me for this emergency room tale?

So it was after dinner about an hour or two and my head HURT.  Like, oh hey this headache is kind of getting in the way of me doing normal things and is generally making me very agitated.  I woke up quite tired yesterday so chalked it up to that until a massive wave of nausea hit like OhmygodI’mgonnapukeNOW (but thankfully didn’t.)  I was officially sick, so decided to just go to sleep.  Laying down wasn’t great, however.  Methinks I psyched myself out a bit and got oddly scared about what it could be– I just felt off– so instead of trying harder to sleep, I went downstairs.  And ate a brownie, but that’s just normal me, nothing to see here.  That’s when I noticed I felt kinda dizzy and my eyes were blurrier than my normal terrible vision.  NOW I’m freaking out, and spend a good chunk of time wavering between “Oh it’s nothing” and “I should text NPH because I’m not living through the night.”  I tried laying down again and this is when I noticed there was a massive pressure on the right side of my head and upper arm, like something was pushing on me.  This spread into a numb, tingly feeling along pretty much the right side of my body, and about now is the point when I went downstairs and alerted T-Bone that something was up.  My mother was oddly calm about it as I’m sitting on her bed crying because the room’s kinda going in and out of focus, and after listening to what’s up she decided the hospital is probably a good bet.  She suggested something about drinking a G2 since I could just be dehydrated after my run, but I assured her I had drank so much water afterward, that would be impossible (and I really did.  Heinous amounts of water.  And a very nutritious meal.)

Thankfully the ER was deserted and they got me in right away, first finding out that my blood pressure was pretty freakin’ high for me, though I was was equally freakin’ nervous about being in the hospital.  I also had a low fever and was shaking because apparently Methodist West has a harem of polar bears roaming the place who need the air conditioning set near arctic temperatures.  I got dressed in a hospital gown (and was wearing my most God-awful, way too big, really old undies because I had THOUGHT I was just going to bed) and got a bunch of blood drawn and got hooked up to a blood pressure machine and got a saline IV hooked up in my arm.  Methinks perhaps the giant needle stuck in my arm for three hours eventually hurt worse than anything I was in there for in the first place.  A bunch of people came in, each one asking if there was any way at all I was pregnant, causing my mother to possibly need medical attention more than myself.  The doctor kept asking if I was on “street drugs” and then did a bunch of coordination/ strength tests to see if I’d had an acute stroke (um, no.)  He sent me for a CAT scan anyway, which thankfully came back negative (so did the pregnancy test– rest easy, mother) though my blood work showed a pretty low potassium level.  They gave me some giant horse pills and a prescription of potassium and told me to eat lots of prunes daily because they actually have much more potassium than bananas.  My sodium levels were also off so we had to wait until my IV had dripped its full liter of fluid in me before leaving.

My mother, while I’m thankful for her driving me and remaining calm while internally I was quite freaking out, is not perhaps the best to have in an ER situation as 1.) She’s no good after about 1 am and I feared she’d rip the IV out of me herself so we could go home to sleep and 2.) “I don’t want to say I told you so, but I told you so.”  Because THAT’S what someone in a hospital bed wants to hear.  Yes, some of the reasons I was in there could be chalked up to dehydration, though not because I didn’t drink plenty of water after my run.  It’s actually because I drank so much, I peed all the time, and your body naturally gets rid of a certain amount of potassium every time you pee.  All the water diluted the salt in me, so even though I had SALTED nuts after my run and a bunch of other things you’d think would have nutritionally benefited this situation, no dice.  The doctor said this also could have been a progressive thing– lack of potassium in my diet + lots of sweating during event set up at work + running + only drinking water and not “watered down Gatorade a small pretzel” = feeling like shit.  And low potassium can cause the “tinglies.”  And he thinks there was a migraine somewhere in there.

In conclusion, sorry that was so long.  I feel better today though very tired, so will nap in between the timing of my football-sized potassium pills.  At Adventureland on Saturday I’ll have to drink something other than just water, and boy oh boy I sure can’t wait til prunes become a staple of my diet.