Some of you might remember my little vignette called The History Teacher, well here he is, chosen to talk a little about Ruby on her last day. (Big sister did the filming).

I heard of Douglas before I met him. The girls in the labs were a-twitter about Professor Radke's cute new graduate assistant. So naturally, in order to substantiate their claims only, I had to see this guy for myself. My reconnaissance found a tall broad-shouldered and exceedingly handsome man with some terrific arms. He had the added bonus of a smooth, melodic British accent and a dry languid wit that made everything he said sound so intellectual and funny at the same time. My report back to the girls was that yes, the new guy was intelligent, beautiful, looked just like some classical Greek sculpture, and thus I wholeheartedly agreed he was an excellent eye candy addition to Wurster Hall. I am not sure which one of us took the sculpture analysis one step further and came up with the nickname "Greek God", but I continued to use the acronym "GG" as my nickname for Douglas for many years. His attempts to decipher what it meant became so self-debasing (Grotesque Gargoyle, etc) that I finally had to admit what GG stood for just to stop his delusion that it meant something terrible about him. His response was simply "Oh?" Not an "of course" kind of "oh" with that mix of satisfaction beautiful people get because they are so used to being admired, rather, more like a "Where is the hidden camera? Where is Alan Funt?" kind of "oh", like it was impossible from him to believe he would ever been given such a flattering nickname. I had to scribble down "humble" along with his other attributes.

Douglas was more than good looks, he was a good friend. In my presence he was playful, lighthearted and wholly and biasedly on my side during any my endeavors or complications with others. He was quick to slice down my perceived enemies; to this day when I feel I need some invisible backup I say aloud "slimy profiteering bastards!" imitating his crisp indignant accent for the full effect. He was thoughtful and encouraging when I needed it, and made me laugh with his witty emails deep in wild metaphors and polysyllabics. How could he be such a cheerleader for me but not himself? I don't know. Yet I can't remember any hint of coldness or contempt in him, only unmitigated kindness towards me. I have many fond memories and I will hold on to them fiercely knowing they are my last with him. I will protect my little pockets of this happy friendship and press them between the leaves of a book, put it high up there so I can take it out and page through them when I'm in so need of his loyal bolstering support again. I'm going to remember it all this way. Douglas, I'm going to remember you this way.

RIP Dr. Douglas A.

 "Ruby is making it hard to teach my history class," the teacher tells me.  He is standing next to me, and we are both watching Ruby play some game on the playground.  It isn't a game I remember playing, and she either hasn't seen me or is just not ready to acknowledge my arrival.  I don't answer the teacher, he is an odd sort that doesn't like small talk with parental units, so for him to come up to me alone means a lot.

"She asks these provocative questions that can't be answered simply and we end up going off on these wild tangents.  I'd love to talk to her more, but eventually I have to get back to the lesson."

I chuckle. "Maybe you should just take her to lunch and talk." 

He nods like that is a good idea.

Ruby finally sees me and I wave her over.  She takes her time, telling each and every friend "Later!" "Good-bye!" "See ya!"

"I'll miss her,"  he says, obviously thinking of her going off to public middle school next year and away from his little private history class enclave.

I think about a few years in the future for the better mini-me.  When that mini-me who doesn't have the gigantic chip on her shoulder or was never told that tangents springing out from the box were bad things moves away to do all kinds of wonderful and not-so-wonderful things.  I stop watching Ruby to look at him and say "I'll miss her too."

His smile conveys perfect understanding.

I don't know what possessed me to use the "dog barking" for my ringtone.  I guess I thought it would be a happy sound to associate with a ringing phone.  But now when I hear the phone ring I just think it is a dog barking in the distance and don't pick up, or when I hear  just a dog barking in the distance I grab for my phone.

Maybe I should switch back to Aretha, but still sort of like the dog even though I never get it right.

A woman in my bookclub is very into the Enneagram test. I took a prelim with her and she said I was a 5. Took one online and it says I am a 5. Now excuse me while I go be alert, insightful, and curious somewhere.

Guess I'm a 5.

 I'm still thinking "Luna Bowling" is a great name.

Me:  I am responsible for picking out a book for my bookclub Monday.
Ruby:  What about Diary of a Wimpy Kid?
Me:  I need a MATURE book, these are MATURE people.
Ruby:  But you read it and liked it.
Me:  But if you haven't noticed, I can be immature.
Ruby:  We've ALL noticed that mom.

My mother did it again, sent me a package of clothes that no one would wear -- no one that isn't time traveling to a weight watchers meeting in 1972. I can more than afford my own clothes; WHY would I want her ugly hand-me-downs clown wear?

She addressed it to my daughter, I can only assume she can't write my name without thinking about me voting for the "Negro" (her words) for president, but the clothes are obviously for me. They are some weird polyester "sailor" like polka dot outfits that are 3 adult sizes too big (my daughter is still in childrens sizes). She always gets me thing WAY to big for me like she is trying to insult me in a weird passive aggressive way.  

I was too depressed to dig into the box further. Maybe I'll take pictures tomorrow if I somehow find the humor in this. However, looking at them just brings me down down down.

Please don't tell me to "tell her" not to send this crap. And that I am not that size, never been and hopefully never will be. I HAVE. I HAVE!! I HAVE TOLD HER. This is just some weird trip for her to insult me, have me know what she really thinks of me mixed with some odd way of making me dress like her. And if I dress like her, I would be bigger than she is in her freaking narcissistic sociopathic warped mind.

I ran the Nike Marathon almost 3 weeks ago, and unlike my first marathon where I a wrote up a race report immediately, I haven't had much desire to write up my Nike report. Not that it went bad, it went very well. I just haven't been in a writing mood (I've been too obsessed with the election).

Nike Marathon is very different from my first marathon the California International. I don't know why I expected it to be similar. The CIM had only 6000 participants and was a marathon-only event. Nike had 20000 with a mix of marathoners, half-marathoners and walkers. At CIM I lined up in the back to get that psychological boost in passing runners as I ran all those miles. With Nike (though I can do 11/min mile for 26.2 miles) I lined up around the 12-14 minute mile mark (not the last, but enough to try that trick again) not expecting walls of walkers from Mile 0. I'm not sure why the walkers didn't line up at the last group, whatever the case I spend the first 8 miles trying to get around rows of walkers by jumping curbs and barriers.

Other than that frustration I will say Nike was extremely organized. You can't beat the scenery in San Francisco. There were lots of water stops, changing areas, and handsome men in tuxes to hand you your hard-earned medal. However my friends (thanks to fuzzyradar  and tigercub for coming MILES and across states to cheer me on) didn't get the shuttle to the cheering places as promised for $15 at bus pass -- only from the beginning point to the end point. That sucked, but with so many runners I doubt they could have found me anyway.

I trained well for the hills, they went well (though again so many people walked the hill). It is an exhausting thing to do, run all those miles. At mile 22 I really wanted to punch everyone that said "GO TEAM" (and I was a happy participant of Team in Training last year, but if you are not with TNT at Nike you do feel like the cat at a Dog Fancy convention). However it is fair to say at mile 22 I probably was grumpy enough to punch anyone.

I was able to get a PR (4:51) with a harder marathon (CIM is net downhill! YEAH, Nike, I believe, has the second hardest hill in a marathon). And I felt perfectly fine and fit after I finished. No real soreness the next day. I should be thrilled that I got through training and the marathon without so much of a stiff muscle.

I won't run the Nike marathon again, but will put in for their half marathon lottery next year.  I have to choose my runner up marathon for next year if I don't get into New York City Marathon (my dream).  Either local or the Mardi Gras Marathon (my homestate, though I am kind of pissed at Louisiana right now).

But yea, I am still wishing I could just go faster. During my off time I am going to concentrate on interval training.

This is for California residents only. I know online petitions are not that useful, but I feel I have to do SOMETHING.

Please forward to friends/family if you do not currently reside in CA.

http://www.petitiononline.com/seg5130/petition.html

This election has proven both how far we've come regarding civil rights in this country, and how far we still have to go.

Once I met a woman in a Berkeley Tai Chi class who was from Georgia. Sometimes I make instant friends with misplaced Southerners here. She told me she was divorcing her husband of ten years, but they never had kids so she felt that the split would not be a hard one. And she told me when she drove she never, ever, took left turns. She was scared of crossing two or more lanes of traffic.

The last day of our class everyone decided to go to a Thai restaurant. I rode with my new southern friend in her truck to the restaurant. And she never took a left turn. We'd go right, right and right again if she had to turn left. I pretended it wasn't weird ("Oh yea, sometimes those cars scare me too ..."). Right right right. We were the last to get to the restaurant.

If you download Livestation you can listen to Al Jazeera, BBC World Service, France 24, Russia Today (in English), NASA TV, etc online. Get another perspective than your basic Fox, CNN, etc!

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