boot on the town

Despite popular opinion, the boot has been painting the town red. Here it is at Cinzetti's. While out and about, it gets sympathy from friends and strangers alike. This time, friend Lindsay tooke her shoe off for the boot. You know, to make it feel like it fit in a little. A plan gone strangely awry if you ask me, but a plan still. It made the boot feel good for a moment. Like it wasn't alone in a sea of well-manicured toes and summer sandals. Until the boot saw this picture and felt like a total clunky goober. At least the boot's owner was sporting a totally sweet mustard tote. She thinks it diverts attention from the boot to her shoulders and mid-section.

closer

the atlantic was born today and i'll tell you how
the clouds above opened up and let it out.
i was standing on the surface of a perforated sphere when the water filled every hole.
and thousands upon thousands made an ocean,
making islands where no island should go.
oh no.
those people were overjoyed;
they took to their boats.
i thought it less like a lake and more like a moat.
the rhythm of my footsteps crossing flood lands to your door have been silenced forevermore.
the distance is quite simply much too far for me to row
it seems farther than ever before
oh no.
i need you so much closer

-deathcab for cutie

when too much seems like too much and too little seems like not enough, how do you know. where is the instruction manual. where is the person who can tell me what to do. exactly. with confidence. why won't God appear to me and sit down and let me ask him things. like why i've gone through so much in my life and what the purpose is. why won't he speak to me in audible words and phrases and with emphasis. why can't he be easier to figure out. why can't i be easier to figure out.

a slow day for news

You have got to be kidding.

though she looks so sad in photographs...

this is the story of a girl
who can't sleep at night if she is alone
who would rather sweat in an 80 degree house than turn on the air
who is drinking a "no fear" sugar-free energy drink
who is worried about the fact that the energy drink contains creatine
who is considering taking up pilates
who is concerned that it won't burn enough calories
who is so tired, she's dizzy
who is so dizzy, she's tipsy
who is at work trying to be creative
who has a headache from the effort it's taking to be creative today
who is worried about a friend
who is afraid she's losing another
who is wondering if the brownish capris and black shirt she has on clash
who is watching a plane take off out the window
who ate a yogurt parfait for lunch
who wishes she ate more
who also wishes she ate less
who is begining to realize how messed up she still is
who knows she hasn't been giving enough away to Him
who wants to know Him more
who wants to sing to Him like she means it
who realizes again why trying to be in control of her life is futile
who needs to hand it over, again
every day
with conviction
and total humility
because while it's too much for her,
He can take it all
and though that doesn't mean life will always be easy and healthy and safe
the eternal promise and the belief in something real
is so worth waiting
for what is to come

work?

Some of the guys I work with and Danny Woodburn. Danny played Mickey on Seinfeld. Maybe you've seen him?

boot blog

Per the suggestion of a friend, I am starting a boot blog. Check back for daily fashion trends featuring my fashionable-all-by-itself- aircast boot.

I've had the lovely accessory in my posession for only 4 days, and so far, because of the boot I've met 3 people, I've seen a complete stranger's leg surgery scars and I had another injured runner/complete stranger tell me about her 10 pound weight gain in the first two weeks that she was injured. She said, and I quote "I'm a bigger girl, so you can't tell as much when I put on weight, but you, Jessi, you won't be able to hide it like I do. Everyone is going to be able to tell." Boy, this boot breaks down personal space bubbles as well as the get-to-know you stage that typically preceeds scar showings and weight gain forecastings.

oh, glory be.

Day 9: Black T-shirt, blue tank, black and grey striped skirt, red cuff watch, black beads, black and white cameo, one black rocket dog flip flop. one forced smile and my gray aircast walking boot. Yes!





Day 6: Red pleated skirt, white T-shirt, blue tank, one white and pink flat and one grey aircast walking boot. H-O-T.




Day 5: At the end of a long day, I sit tired, a little shiny and really aching for a long run. To emphasize the boot today, I chose a black and white horizontal striped T-shirt, a jean skirt, my red cuff watch and one black Rocket Dog flip flop.




Day 4: 80s insipred tee, jean skirt, lavendar tank, red cuff watch, one pink and white flat, one aircast and one of many cups of coffee.



Day 3: Green fitted polo, grey tank, one flip flot, one aircast and one pair of shorts. Why shorts? Because it's a whole lot easier than trying to figure out what to do with my left pant leg.

at least i look hot.

This is a picture of somebody else. But that's pretty much what I'll look like for the next four weeks ( minus the leg hair, white shoe and pulld-up tube sock. ) I have to wear this boot everywhere - even to sleep. It also cost $350. You'd think it was a pair of jordans or something. To top it off, I may not be able to run for six months. Nice huh? At least I can ride a stationary bike if I use my heel. And at least I can say I look like a storm trooper.

and

the vet called. while gus' stool sample turned out clean, they want to check him for prostate cancer or a bowel obstruction. my stomach hurts.
and, my bone scan showed possible digenerative joint disease. i think it's because of the eating disorder i had in high school. i told you, i'm being honest. and this is my life today. and i'm crying.

is it okay that i want to cry?

i have two stress fractures. a large on in my mid-foot, and a smaller one in my second toe.

i read that it can take up to 6 months to get running again after one stress fracture. what about if you have two? i'm scared. to not run. to not get better. to not be able to exercise. to figure out that running is what helps keep me sane, and that there isn't an easy replacement.

now you know

A dog in heat has a memorable scent. It’s remarkably similar to the blossoms of a Bradford pear tree, which is why Bradford pear trees are both beautiful and ridiculously disgusting. This weekend, I discovered that the floorboards we will lay down before arranging the bathroom floor tile smell like dog-in-heat, too. It’s a terrible smell.

My intimate knowlege of dog period smell is my parents' fault. We had a dog named Charlotte. I named her. I loved her more than my brother and sister. She slept by the floor of my bed. She also got her period. To save money, the parents decided not to fix her. They would, instead, just put up with drops of doggie blood on the hardwoods four times a year. And four times a year, we would all put up with the horrible smell of a swelling doggie private.

After Charlotte died, I was in the backyard on a spring day, and I swore her ghost was swirling above my head. It smelled just like her “time of the year” and I was so freaked out by it that I called my mom out to witness the phantom scent. She smelled it, too. Then we realized we were standing beneath a Bradford pear tree. The phantom dog-in-heat smell could be blamed on the lacy white, delicate blossoms. Damn those blossoms.

In college, there were Bradford pear trees on campus. Each spring, the street in front of Memorial Union would come to life with impatients and tulips and groundcover, and the Bradford pears would bloom. And I avoided them.

I like to look at Bradford pear trees but when a wind storm, a heavy rain or a blanket of snow gets the best of one, toppling it to the ground, I laugh a little. Because when something so beautiful smells so rancid, it's funny to wonder what God was thinking.

milestones

Today, Gus turned 2. Happy birthday to you, bubba.

It has become a tradition to pose with Mr. Woof on this, his very special day.

I went to a dog bakery and got Gus this bone. They wrote his name on it, and it was really great until I walked outside into the 90 degree heat and his name melted. I was sad, but Gus obviously didn't know the difference.

I would also like to submit for history, the event of the successful installation of the new vanity light, bathroom mirror and outlet. For the first time in three years, I dried and straightened my hair in the bathroom. Thank you Rob for all of your help. We still have a ways to go with this remodel, but it's nice to make progress.

slow

blogger has been too slow. and so, i haven't had time to update. maybe i'll switch to typepad (can i say that here?)

i've also been too slow. at walking. at healing. at anything really. i tried to go wedding errand shopping with my bride-to-be sister today, and i was at least 80 feet behind her all day. i'm limping, gimping and hating it. so after the errand running, i broke down and got crutches. i had a bone scan last friday. while i was holding still for the 20 minute scan session, the radiology tech said "oh yeah, see that spot there, there is something going on. we'll be able to get you some answers soon." but, soon isn't soon enough. my doctor still has to review the "pictures" before letting me know what is really wrong with my foot, how long it will take to get better, and what i should be doing in the space between. ugh. so for now, i can't run, i can't walk, and i'm pretty much horrible to live with. at least i have a husband with patience. bless you, nick.

i don't know why i miss running so much. maybe because it became a part of me. something i did every day. something i practiced and got better at and felt good about. a healthy hobby, one that took me through each season and each stress, through heartache and rainbows and back down again into tunnels with light at the end. it was my cure-all. it was what i did. it was what i called myself. it is what i spent my money on. it was what i set goals around. it was when i talked to god and when i figured out just how much my body could take. it helped me know myself. it was part of me. and i'm having a hard time letting it go for a bit.

so, i'm slow. and i'm a little bit depressed about it. and i'm being honest, because the depression i feel about not being able to run makes me feel guilty as hell. last year, billy had is leg amputated. it's gone. he lost it. for good. yes, it took care of the cancer. yes, he is now cancer-free. but he lost is leg. and here i am, feeling sorry for myself because i have something wrong with my foot and it's temporary. and i hate it.

we build.

Nick took level 2 of the CFA exam Saturday, so until his results come in late July, we are study-free, stress-free and able to take care of business.

So, we are redoing the bathroom — new sink, new tile, new mirror, new light, fan, paint and wainscoting. I can’t wait. And thanks to the help of our good neighbor (and good friend, too), we are doing it all ourselves.

When it’s finished, we’d like to sell the house. Any takers?

It’s really cute. And really affordable. And it’s pretty much the best house ever. Plus, it’s going to have a rocking bathroom. You know you want it.

radiohead fan or not, you've got to watch this.

enjoy.

why my feet have failed me

Is it ironic that when I was in full stride, sprinting the last half mile of the half marathon last september, the song lyrics "feet don't fail me now" were running through my mind? It might be. Check this out: total miles run in May - 96.5. Total miles projected for June - 0. Why? Stress fracture.

It's under my middle toe on my left foot. It hasn't been diagnosed exactly yet, but the doctor suspects it's a stress fracture, and has ordered the x-rays, MRIs and the like to prove it. I should know more later. Maybe I could just cut my toe off. Do I really need it? And then, maybe my determination would prompt a Lifetime Original movie about a runner so determined and stupid that she cut her toe off to be able to train for a marathon. Maybe.