Granite State Comicon; yet more evidence I am a geek.

I went to my first Comicon today! I’ve always wanted to go to some sort of SciFi convention, I’ve just never had a chance. When a friend mentioned it this morning and I found out that there would be Star Wars characters there for pictures I just knew I had to bring Josh! Apparently I had to give birth to another geek just to get someone who would go to these things with me!

We had way too much fun:

Awe. Some.

There’s lots more (Boba Fett! Sand People! and C3PO!) on my flickr if you’re interested. 🙂 You know, if you’re a dork like me.

Btw, the Empire guys are from 501st New England and the Rebels are from Alderaan Base. You all were great with the kids, thanks!

hey local peeps!

FYI, the women’s group I volunteer for is having a charity yard sale and bake sale at the Merrimack Town Hall parking lot from 9am -2pm tomorrow (Saturday.) Stop by and say hi if you get a chance – I plan to be there all day! Btw, there’s always lots of good toys for the little ones. 🙂

And, I made cupcakes…you know you want one:

fascinated by flowers

I love to peek inside of them!

I put up some new stuff on Flickr if you want to check it out.

Memorial

His name was Joseph Ernest Lapointe.

He joined the Quebec Regiment of the Canadian Expeditionary Force in August of 1916 and he was soon transported overseas to France to help fight the invading Germans.

We don’t have a photo but I can surmise from the only description we have that he looks much like the rest of my father’s family: black hair, brown eyes, dark complexion. He was 5′ 6″ but I bet he was wiry, and strong. A farmer’s boy has to be strong. A soldier has to be strong.

His last months were spent with the 22e Battalion in Northern France near Arras. We only know this because that is where he ended. Killed by enemy fire on April 22, 1918, somewhere in the Pas-de-Calais. He was only 22 years old.

What we don’t know is exactly where he died or what battle it was part of. We can speculate based on his burial location at Wailly Orchard Cemetery that it was part of the Battle of the Lys, but perhaps it was a skirmish that didn’t really belong to any identifiable offensive.

All we really know is that he was family, he was loved, he was a hero, and he is remembered. Always.

Memorial Day is so much more than just a day off from work. It’s more than hoping for beach weather and having cook-outs. Remember one, remember many, but just remember.

alone and running, in a good way!

I’ve had a crazy, busy, but mostly good week, and the weekend is about to get even better.

I get to be alone! I feel terrible saying that, but seriously, I know you all get it. Sometimes you just need to be alone.

In about an hour I’m heading out to bring Josh to my MIL for the long weekend. She loves to take him and do lots of stuff with him. I imagine the beach will be involved, as will something to do with horses, as always. We get him back on Monday. That means I get to sleep, completely soundlessly, for three whole nights. Don’t hate me!

So I did go running again yesterday, and it was hard but it still felt great. My calves were burning, but my lungs weren’t. I think that’s progress! I’m going every other day right now, just until my body gets more used to it.

I’m going to do my first 5k on July 4!! My friend Nicole and I are going to do it as a practice one. We’ll walk as needed – for both of us! She broke her toes a few weeks ago so it will slow her down enough for me to keep up. 😉 Heh.

Here’s the best thing – the running has helped me break through my plateau – I lost about 4 more pounds! Woo-freaking-hoo!!! The combination of that and going back to writing in my food journal and watching my calories again has made a huge difference. I really need to remember that the next time I hit a wall.

So my plans for the weekend are to run/walk, clean the house, nap, garden, shop (alone! OMG I can try things on!), watch whatever I want to on TV, maybe hit some yard sales, and go see Star Trek.

What are you doing with your long holiday weekend?

even the downhills hurt

Yesterday wasn’t a fluke. I managed the run/walk in 45 minutes again just now. I actually ran a bit more than yesterday, but I was a bit ~ahem~ sore so going fast was impossible. Heh. It was more of light jog. But still, I did it.

I can’t even tell you how much I appreciated all of your comments yesterday. The support and encouragement I get from you all means everything to me.

I think I need to go throw up now.

Kidding!

I probably just need a tylenol. Oy.

run walk intervals

Okay, I’m going to tell you all something that isn’t going to seem like a bit deal to most, but is a very big deal to me.

I went for my usual 2.5 mile walk this morning and somehow I was motivated to do a few running intervals. (Okay, this might have motivated me a bit – go read it!) I do that once in a while but frankly running has never ever been my thing. Today it didn’t seem quite so…hard. I ended up running a bit more than I walked.

That loop typically takes me 65 minutes when I walk it. Today it took me exactly 45 minutes. I took 20 minutes off my time!

Here’s another good thing, I took 5700 steps so far today, and of those it counted 5550 of them as aerobic. Woot! So my whole “walk” today was fast enough to be aerobic – not easy to do!

BTW, I finally got my pedometer to count closer to correct. Last time I took the same route it counted 3800 steps and only 850 were aerobic! (Generally 1 mile = 2000 steps, but my legs are short so I think I take a few more per mile.)

I may be a sweaty mess, and I’m not sure which is going to explode first – my heart or my lungs (!), but I’m happy. Like I said, it may not seem like much to some, especially if you’re already a runner, but it’s a milestone for me.

Do you know what thoughts were in my head when I was running? I actually considered training to run a 5k. I can’t stop thinking about it even now. Huh. Imagine that.

book gluttony

Have any of you ever been to Booking Through Thursday? It’s a cute unassuming little blog with a ton of readers and every week they ask a new question for you to answer on your own blog, or in their comments. I’ve never participated but I’ve been reading for a long time. I think it’s fun to get a glimpse into other people’s reading habits, as much as into their gardens! 😉 Yep, I’m nosy.

This week’s question made me laugh:

Book Gluttony! Are your eyes bigger than your book belly? Do you have a habit of buying up books far quicker than you could possibly read them? Have you had to curb your book buying habits until you can catch up with yourself? Or are you a controlled buyer, only purchasing books when you have run out of things to read?

Heh. I laughed because (duh!) I have a book problem, as in a serious addiction. I am in fact a book glutton.

I rarely, very, rarely buy new books, but I have a thing for used bookstores, yard sales, flea markets, book swaps, anywhere I can get books cheap. My parent’s house is the cheapest…free!…and with a fantastic selection…gee, I wonder where I picked up this habit eh? Ahem – hello Mom & Pop???

It doesn’t help that I hate getting rid of books either. I like my books, I like to look at my books, I like to pick them up and remember reading them. If I can’t remember much, or if I loved it particularly well, I read it again.

My bookshelves are stuffed, just the way I like them. I keep areas set aside just for all the books I’ve picked up along the way that I haven’t read yet. When I’m in a mood for a particular type; mystery or scifi, history, or yes, even romance, I know I have something sitting there, just waiting for me to pick it up.

I have a pile by my bed, a pile on my desk, a pile next to the couch. I have massive built in book shelves in the basement that my darling husband (and enabler) put in for me. Well, okay, he’s not so much of an enabler as a co-glutton. But don’t tell him I said so.

I’m turning my kid into a fellow book lover too. He’s got heaps of them in his bedroom. Even though we’ve culled the baby books they still don’t all fit on his bookshelf. I always find a mountain of books on the floor next to his bunk bed where he drops them before he turns off the light each night. He loves to troll the used bookstore with me, and I don’t think I’ve ever said no to him when he’s asked for a book. It’s not the worst way I could be spoiling him, right?

This is one addiction I don’t plan to change!

other people’s gardens

It’s a beautiful day today, the sun is shining and a light breeze is blowing. When we went down the road wait for the bus it was about 50 degrees. A perfect day for a long walk. As soon as I got Josh off to school I headed up the hill.

I took a slightly new route this time and I walked for just over an hour. My pedometer tells me I went 1.4 miles but Google maps says the route is 2.8 miles. Hmmm. I think I’ll believe Google this time thanks! I’m assuming since I was walking fast I was taking longer strides than what I set my pedometer for!

When I walk through neighborhoods I catch myself being a bit of a peeping tom. A typical nosy neighbor who can’t keep her eyes to herself. But it’s not people I’m looking at. (In fact the fewer people I see while I walk the happier I am.) It’s their plants, their trees, their landscape design that I’m checking out. Or lack thereof.

While I truck along I take it all in. Perfectly set rock gardens with phlox and alysum, mulched beds overflowing with gerberas and tulips, and shady spots filled with bleeding hearts and hostas. I love the big flowering trees, huge lilacs, and sweet weeping cherries. I wish I had space for all of them.

I have a soft spot for cute little japanese maples with delicate spidery red leaves. I had one at my old house and I loved it. I want one here but I haven’t figured out the perfect spot yet, and they’re expensive.

I glance a bit jealously at sunny yards, mine is so much shade. I envy the ease in which they can choose plants, everything is harder to grow on my lot and I have to carefully research what will survive here. But then I remember August and how my lawn will stay cool and green, if a bit mossy, while theirs will dry up in the heat. Maybe those people walk by my home and envy my towering pines and maples, even though they make my soil turn acid.

I keep going and I wonder at the houses with the neglected plants, weeds choking out the flowers, and overgrown bushes and dead limbs crowding my sight. Do the owners forget about it all out of hardship or just apathy? As I walk on by my brain can’t help but plan out their space. A rhododendron would be perfect here, a little trimming of the forsythia there, some grass seed to fill out the lawn.

Eventually I make it back to my own driveway. My critial eye takes in the stretch of land I work so hard on. I judge it harshly, but I remember how much worse looked when we first saw it a few years ago. I look at my thriving stonecrop and lilies and bee balm and I know I did that. I love the new butterfly bush and azaleas that I bought on mother’s day.

Other people’s gardens fascinate me, but I love my own little bit of earth.

black out

I’m a fainter.

When I’m in pain my brain shuts off and my vagus nerve takes over. And I pass out. Vasovagal syncope. Out cold.

<Disclaimer: If you’re either squeamish or male you might want to skip this post. Trust me.>

The earliest time I remember it happening was in the dentist’s office when I was first in braces. My mouth was already pretty sore and when the dentist started telling my mother some last minute thing to do with my teeth he didn’t just point toward my gums, he poked them. I’m sure he didn’t mean to, he was the nicest dentist I ever had, but yeah, dang that hurt! And down I went. Right in front of the receptionist’s desk. Scared the crap out of everyone! My poor mother!

My family and friends got kind of used to it but it was always shocking, not to mention, frankly, pretty freaking funny, whenever it happened.

Like the time I was at my neighbor’s house and we were all playing in the woods. I slipped on a rock and landed on my tailbone. Ouch! I leaned against a tree for support but it didn’t help. I woke up lying on my back in a small stream of water mud with my friends standing over me. I certainly wasn’t more than nine or ten and they were younger than me! I can’t imagine what they thought happened but they sure were laughing their butts off!

Truly the funniest one was when I had my ears pierced. My mom and my 2 older sisters with me. Like a rite of passage or something. Typical mall kiosk, typical ice cream shop for lunch afterward. What wasn’t typical was the conversation – which was my oldest sister Lisa telling us about piercing her own ears with an ice cube and a needle. Eww!

I woke up under the table.

It’s okay to laugh. We still do.

I think can hear Carolyn laughing right now.

I even passed out at school in 7th grade. But no one knew. I didn’t feel good ~ahem~ because of the “cramps” <don’t say I didn’t warn you guys> and I was sitting in the principal’s office waiting for my mom to come pick me up. The principal and his secretary had both stepped out for a few seconds. Just long enough for me to find myself waking up on the floor, face down, right in front of the open door. I picked myself up, dusted myself off, and sat back in my chair. Right before they walked back in. Gee, I don’t know why he told me I looked pale!

The most embarrassing, (yes, there was one more embarrassing then sliding off my seat under the table at a very busy restaurant) was when I was about 16 or 17 and working at a summer job at at pizza place/variety store. I told my manager I didn’t feel well, (those pesky cramps again) and instead of sending me home she sent me to the basement to shred humongous blocks of mozzarella cheese. You know, so I wouldn’t be around customers. Duh.

Do you know incredibly bad massive quantities of shredded cheese smells? Especially when you don’t feel well to begin with? Ugh. So gross. But I finished my task and went back upstairs to tell her I was worse. She was flirting with the bread man and ignoring me so I leaned against the soda cooler. And BAM. On the freaking floor. Only they couldn’t get a hold of my mother. (These were the days before cell phones, of course!)

So guess what they did? They called a freaking ambulance. And then kept sitting me in a chair instead of letting me just lie down! Dumba$$es. So I kept fainting, over and over! After they called the ambulance they then called my poor father at work to meet me at the hospital, FOR CRAMPS!! The horror. Oh, the horror.

Can I just say one thing here? Does anyone else see a pattern? Really, am I the only one who uses the word cramps as a euphemism for BEING STABBED WITH AN ICE PICK STRAIGHT INTO MY UTERUS???? Because seriously if “cramps” just means like just a little discomfort or some $hit to you all then I really hate everyone right now.

Ahem.

Sorry.

Can you tell I have cramps?

And that I had vasovagal syncope recently? As in Monday. Because of a dang pap!!! And the ensuing effing CRAMPS!!!!!!

I really did warn you.

I’m probably going to really regret hitting publish.

ps. I can give blood with no problems whatsoever. Go figure.

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