The countdown has begun.

July 7, 2009.

The pain begins. . . again.

Artwork by Allie Lee

 

Lately I've been having these horrible flashbacks to embarrassing moments from my past. Most of them happen as I drive to work each morning. They are vivid enough to make me shriek out loud as I relive them.

It's not really a shriek. It's a more of an, AAAAGH GOD JEEZ WHUUU!

Now that I'm writing about these embarrassing moments, I can't remember any of them. There was a toga party when I danced with a really cute girl and she shoved me away from her because I kept stomping on her feet.

No. That's not one of them. I'm focusing on the ones that really meant something. The moments when I screwed up so badly that it actually altered the course of my life.

AAAAGH GOD JEEZ WHUUU!

Suddenly more than a few of these bad memories have come to mind but I'm really not going to share them with anyone; at least not right now.

I have on new underpants. They are expensive, high-tech underpants. It may seem foolish to spend money on technologically advanced skivies right now but I have a good reason for buying them. For one thing, they wick moisture away from your body.

I often wonder when I read about these space-age fabrics where the moisture goes once it's wicked away. Turns out that the moisture is transported directly to the outside of the garment. I know this because. . .

I wouldn't consider myself a fastidious person but I'm not altogether slovenly either. I'm clean. I keep myself clean. However, there are those rare occasions when I haven't tapped my wing-wang enough to insure that I have completely voided every inch (foot?) of my urinary tract of fluid. This means sometimes a few drops may make their way into my underwear.

Usually my cotton, boxer-briefs absorb the extra moisture but these new high-tech skivies sucked the pee away from the inside of my underwear and distributed it to the outside. I know this because of the curse of tan pants.

I looked down, panicked and then I silently went over the few tactics you can employ in this situation:

1. Find an object to hold in front of the area to hide the watermark as you make your way to safer territory.
2. Splash more water on yourself to make it look as if there was some plumbing accident that soaked your crotch and not your careless ding-dong manipulation.
3. If there's a hand dryer you can remove our pants and hold them beneath it while you pray no one else wants to use the bathroom.
4. You can go into a stall and get two wads of toilet paper. Place them on either side of the wet spot and rub them until the friction destroys the toilet paper. By the time the toilet paper wads have disappeared in your hands the mark of shame has probably vanished.

I chose option four. Should you find yourself in a similar situation, I strongly recommend option four.

I should go now. I've got my underpants, a stopwatch, a blow dryer and a huge glass of cranberry juice. I am prepared to devote the rest of my evening to science.

 

They had glow-in-the-dark! I'll never understand why she chose pink over glow-in-the-dark.

 

She really isn't smiling all that much these days.

 

She ran and ran and ran and then. . . she ran some more.

Allie's first 5K was a success. It was raining this morning and a little cold, but that made for perfect running weather.

We arrived early and walked the grounds while we waited for Girls on the Run group photos and the start of the race. Allie's coach found a break in the fence and we snuck in line to reach the start which meant we wound up toward the front of the 11,000+ racers/walkers there with us. As we jogged to the starting line Allie asked me when we were going to start. I looked at her and I noticed the start banner was well behind us and said, "We're racing, Allie!"

She did great. The majority of the race consisted of speed play where we'd pick a sign or a person and run to that point and then slow down for little up-tempo walking. I pushed her a little harder than she might have liked a couple of times, but for the most part Allie maintained our 80% running, 20% walking mix on her own.

Slapping her hand against the big mile marker signs as she ran by became small goals for her to accomplish along the course. Her biggest obstacle was a hill that everyone seemed to be walking up that Allie pushed herself on. She made it to the top running all the way as people out on their lawns, drinking their morning coffee, cheered her on.

The best part of the race? Allie says it was getting a drink of water and then being able to just drop the cup on the ground without getting into trouble.

For me it was looking to my right and seeing her grin, all rosy cheeked and panting, as she gave high fives to people along the course.

The only part that we had trouble with was finding Deb and Julia after the race. They waited for us at the finish line but didn't see us cross. We walked up and down the line and then waited for them at the Girls on the Run tent but didn't see them. No cell phones, no contact. Allie was a little disappointed and while they didn't actually see us I know Allie felt great knowing they were there.

We were very fortunate to be a part of an event that holds a great deal of significance for many people that goes far beyond a first-time fun run. I found a clip from today's race that does a far better job of illustrating this point than I could:

http://www.madison.com/video/?id=4335259

 

We met Evelyn at the book store. She was in a wheelchair accompanied by a man with a big growth on his neck.

Here's what Allie, Julia and I learned about Evelyn in approximately three minutes:

• Evelyn was blind for four months.
• Now she can see again no thanks to that dumbass doctor.
• She off the medicine and feeling much better.
• She's writing a book entitled, "You Think Your Life Sucks You Should Try Mine".
• She's seriously going to write the book.
• She grew up during the Great Depression.
• When she was a girl she would stand in line for hours to get food that had to last her family an entire week.
• She wasn't invited to a wedding a few years ago because a family member called her a dirty slut.
• Evelyn has a tiny Green Bay Packer duffel bag filled with new $1 coins that she hands out to kids who are adorable.
• Evelyn was molested by her father.
• She loves her grandchildren.
• She's very fond of her granddaughter who lives far away.
• Evelyn has a photo mounted on a small piece of cardboard of her granddaughter sitting on a couch with four men sporting camouflage T-shirts and tattoos.
• The man with the growth not only pushes Evelyn around in her wheelchair but he also softly affirms or rephrases everything Evelyn says as he looks for books.
• Evelyn has two cats.
• Evelyn carries around pictures of her cats mounted on small pieces of cardboard.
• Evelyn punctuates many of her sentences with bad words.

 

Mom,

This year you asked me to get you a Mother's Day card.

So, I did.

This is what it will look like:


This is what it will look like when you open it up in a few days or so:


I know you don't speak Spanish, and neither do I, but this card seemed to capture the nuance of what I wanted to express this Mother's Day.

In any language - I love you very much, Mom. You are, indeed, una Madre tan especial.

 

These days a tour of the Whitehouse requires congressional clearance. According to the Web site: Requests must be submitted through one's Member of Congress and are accepted up to six months in advance.

I've walked around the Whitehouse. I've been waved at by, then, President Clinton as his motorcade pulled away from the rear gate (you could barely see the guy through the bullet-proof glass). I've chit-chatted with a uniformed Secret Service agent at a side entrance (those aren't hand warmers beneath those leather flaps). I've even stolen a few leaves off the lawn for Allie.

I still want to get inside someday.

This will have to do for now:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/whitehouse/