hangover «

I have soooo many things to write about! I have, like, a million hundred posts swirling in my head. My notebooks are filling up faster these days with little phrases or keywords that I jot down with the hopes that I’ll remember what they mean when I finally get around to reviewing them and composing some sort of banter to post on this blog. Why is it, then, that this blog sits here untouched, neglected, unloved?

Since I got laid off, I’ve written four posts. FOUR!!! What the hell have I been doing with my time? Sure, I could blame it on excessive partying, which is partly true, but it’s not like hangovers can literally stop you from laying in bed and typing up a post about whatever you did the night before that gave you such a fucking hangover in the first place…isn’t that what you want to read about anyway? Aren’t the stories what you stop by here barely, if ever every once in a while for? It’s not like I don’t have the time to write.

Now, after contemplating my next steps, I’ve decided to go back to school and pursue my Masters degree. I’ve found the perfect program for what I want to do (teach), however, one of the admission requirements is a passing grade on the state certification test. There is only one more test given before the application deadline, which is in three weeks. From the day I found out I needed to take and pass this test, I have three weeks. Three weeks to try and cram all those high school and undergraduate English courses back into my brain. My brain hasn’t studied more than the TV Guide for years! (Not really true.) And it’s not like English is such a cut and dry subject, it’s basically endless. I’ve been in flash card HELL eight hours a day for the past week. I have two weeks until the test. From today. And I’m terrified! If I don’t pass, I don’t get accepted, and THEN WHAT THE HELL DO I DO?!?

I feel kind of like I’m a senior in high school again, stressing over whether or not my choice school will accept me because if they don’t, like, O.M.G., like, what the heck am I gonna do then? Like, my life will be like, totally over, and like, Jonny will never want to marry me and then he’ll all, like Lauren and marry her instead, and then like omgican’teventhinkaboutit. I, like, TOTALLY HAVE TO GET IN!!!

Okay, well, maybe not exactly like that. But it’s still stressful. I’ll likely pull more than one all-nighter between now and the day of the test, and they won’t be the kind of all-nighter I’d prefer if you know what I mean…

I hope to be able to break long enough to post more since the fact that I’ve published FOUR posts in the last two months just annoys me, but I can’t promise anything really until after this test. So please bear with me and wish me luck. I’m seriously going to need it. And instead of wishing me luck if you feel like, oh sending beer money instead, that’d be cool too. I’ll need a lot of those too once this test is over.

Each year, the NYC marathon runs right past my apartment. It’s very exciting, not only because the streets are filled with a more diverse crowd of onlookers, but also because it’s Sunday and it’s November and that means there is another sport to get excited about besides football. I’ll get up early, get some coffee, and stand on the sidelines watching people run 26.2 miles while I nurse my hangover and take pictures of their agony accomplishments. My apartment is around the 12 mile marker, so it was pretty early when the frontrunners came by. I watch them on televeision until I see them about 5 blocks away, then I dash downstairs hoping I’m faster than them in order to snap a picture.

Last year, I was not. I didn’t make it in time so I snapped a shot from the bedroom window:

That’s Paula Radcliffe in the front, with the white gloves. She ended up winning the marathon last year.

I almost missed them again this year, but was happy to snap Mrs. Radcliffe at the same moment a year later:

(That’s her in front, again, with the white gloves.)

She ran the last half of the marathon like a machine, pulling far enough ahead of this group to have no threat whatsoever to the victory. I felt excited to have shared such a miniscule moment in time with her, and felt proud to be able to witness it live.

The guys came a little while after the ladies, so I was able to get a more decent shot of them:

The frontrunner here is from the U S and A, but if you look at the guy in the back of the pack in the yellow jersey? He wins. Pretty awesome, right?

They are running so much faster than you could ever imagine if you are watching the race on television. It’s almost like there is a blur behind them they are gone so quickly.

As exciting as it is to watch the fastest runners pass by, it really gets exciting when the rest of the crew catches up. 39,000 runners pass my house during the course of about 3 hours, and the cheers and applause and excitement is enough to make anybody crazy inspire anyone. Seriously.

Congratulations to all of you that may have run in this race, or knew anyone who ran in this race. It is truly a feat and the ultimate test of endurance, and I applaud anyone who can achieve a goal that large.

I feel disappointed in myself. Not because I feel like I need to get in shape and train for a marathon, but because I didn’t have the patience to play paparazzi and sit outside scoping out Ryan Reynolds.

To celebrate them, I’m going to drink a lot of beer, eat until I burst, and watch some football. After all, that’s what Sundays are made for, right?

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