Seeking Harriers

I'm not sure how to do this, but I want to start my own Hash House Harriers group...sans alcohol.

Scratching your head asking, "What's a Hash House Harrier?"

It's a group of drinkers with a running problem.

Only I and most of my friends don't drink alcohol, so I'm thinking maybe we could replace the alcohol with chocolate? Or something else for Tiff...let's see...how about the Harriers Who Run for Virgin Coladas?

Okay, that's going to take some thinking, and I can see that you're still sitting there wondering what the heck is a Hash House Harrier.

It goes a little something like this:

You get a group of people whom we will now call "Hounds." But one person is the Hare who plans out and lays a trail with flour in advance of the event. The hounds then have to track down the hare by following the trail of flour. The trail breaks off here and there, and the hounds all sniff around for it. Once it's found, the finder yells out, "ON! ON!" And the chase continues.

At random points throughout the trail, a cooler of beer is found and consumed by the hounds. Here's where we have to figure out what to put in the cooler...it can be a complete surprise....Hare's choice! Or just a marker or something...anything!

After the race, everyone converges on a spot (a restaurant, a house, a park) and eats and drinks more of something other than beer, in our case.

I ran with harriers in Charlottesville, VA. It was SO FUN! And a fun way to get in some exercise.

Who's with me?


GelaSkins Inc.

The Ongoing Saga With Mommy Dearest

So remember how, when she received my birthday and Christmas gifts in the mail, opened them, and told me she was, "Mighty disappointed," among other unpleasantries? And how I cried like a ridiculous baby for 2 days while trying to pull the dagger out of my heart?

I called her this morning just to chat. Why? I have no idea. I still cling to the outrageously ridiculous hope that she will one day wake up and be a good, loving mother.

So she informs me that she's going to send the candy back that I had sent with the other gifts. I say fine. She tells me my brother told her that would be rude. I let out a clipped laugh.

Then it just comes out in a stream of tears and pain. I tell her how her reaction to our gifts was beyond rude, it was hurtful. I schooled her on the proper etiquette for graciously accepting a heartfelt gift, even if you were "mighty disappointed" by it. All the while, I'm choking back tears.

Her reaction?

She hung up on me.

And so here I sit, once again a wounded little child, swearing I will NEVER,

NOT EVER

call her again.

But of course I will, because I see all the other mothers in the world, who are not perfect, but who TRY and who love their kids and I wanna be one of those kids. I'll get my hopes up. I'll call. She will destroy me. I will let her.

It's a vicious cycle. I just want off this ride.


GelaSkins Inc.

Sledding in Flagstaff

Despite my feeling like I was on my deathbed, I was DETERMINED to see snow this year and knew this might be our only opportunity to go, so Friday we packed into the 'burban and headed north to Flag. (For those of you wondering where to go: if you have teens, the two places on the 180 toward Nordic center are fine, but crowded. If you just have little kids, just go to NAU and find a hill!)

Bryce loved the snow, but was cold and shivering after about a half hour, so that was the extent of our sledding adventure. I was actually back in the car about 10 minutes before Todd and Bryce. But I loved seeing the snow! It was so pretty!

Allie stepped over the fence and into calf-high snow. Brrrrrrrrr.


The San Francisco Peaks...AZ's highest elevation at over 12K feet. Isn't it pretty?

I would like to live in that house...okay, maybe not, but what a great spot if you don't mind cold winters (I do).

And finally, me, freezing my buhjoinkas off:

Tracey, Are You Out There?

Growing up in the "State Streets" in Woodbridge, VA, I had a lot of great friends, some of whom I've mentioned recently after reconnecting with them after over 25 years.

One I haven't found yet is Tracey Bradley. I would love to find her. I want to remind her of the time we sat in my basement with my broken tape recorder and how we laughed so hard we could barely breathe.

My tape recorder was "broken" for all intents and purposes, but to us, it was greatly improved. See, if you recorded something, then flipped the cassette over and hit "play," whatever you recorded would play backwards.

We said everything we could think of backwards: our names, places, random words, the alphabet (did you know that "H" backwards says "sh!t?" It does, it really does!)

Our tape recorder hijinks memories came flooding into my head just now after Allie showed me a funny video she and her friend, Cayli, had made today with Allie's new Flip (a very fun thing, by the way; I wish Tracey and I had had one of those back in the day!).

I hope Allie and Zane...and someday Bryce will have great memories like the ones I have from the State Streets.


GelaSkins Inc.

No Crapstain

For those of you who've been wondering why there have been no posts for the past week, I have been sick sick sick sickly sick.

Coughing, sneezing, aching, stuffy, runny...whiney.

I was sick in bed all of Christmas day. So fun!

Friday I perked up enough to take a drive to Flagstaff to see SNOW SNOW SNOW, but haven't uploaded the pix yet. Well, I started, but then the upload crashed. Will do the rest soonly. Here are a couple that made it on; nothing great:

Saturday I was okay-ish. Sunday Todd and I gave talks in Church (mine on missionary work; his on unity) and I coughed and hmmm-hmm'ed through mine. But it went well; I'm grateful for the chance to give a talk.

Yesterday I had the most ginormous headache, and still have it today. Off to NSA to get my head put back on right! Then a stop at Sprouts for some zinc (since mine expired last April) and some olive leaf extract to kill anything in my body that doesn't belong there. (Thanks to my friend who suggested those things!)

So that's it! Yuck-o-rama!

Happy New Year!

GelaSkins Inc.

crapstain in the News

Go make one for you!

GelaSkins Inc.

The Twilight Before Christmas

BIG HUGE shout out to my sis in law, ERIN, for sending this flipping hilarious video!!!!!




GelaSkins Inc.

All I Want for Christmas is a Mother

This year for Christmas, I sent my mom a package with these yummy fruit and nut candies that Todd thought she'd love and a couple of games I thought she would enjoy playing with my brother, since he recently separated from his wife and moved in with our mom. I should have known better than to send her anything.

I called her this morning and asked if the package had arrived. She said that it had arrived yesterday. I asked her if she had opened it and she said, "Yes, and I tell you I was mighty disappointed. That candy is nasty; I might as well have opened a jar of jelly. And I don't even know if your brother likes card games." (One of the games was Phase 10; I thought she would like it because we grew up playing Rummy and it's similar.)

My heart sank. Why, why, why did I bother? Why do I do this to myself? Will I never learn? After 39 years of living with her special brand of evil, will I never stop seeking that motherly bond that I cannot seem to stop craving, even at this age? Even though I have a family of my own? Will I never stop allowing her to stab me in the heart?

I see other women with their loving moms...arms around each other in a warm embrace. I see the love in their eyes. I long for that. I ache for a mom to call and share things with; one who will understand and just try to comfort. Instead I get the lecturing, negative, everything is wrong in the world mother who is so very skilled at making me feel like crap. She's not the hugging type. She doesn't say, "I love you." I think I moved 2500 miles away so I wouldn't have to experience the pain in person. It's not quite as hard over the phone.

Diamonds are lovely, chocolate is divine, vacations are exciting, but all I really want is the love of a mom.



GelaSkins Inc.