Friendship is Blinding. Like the SUN

Tonight I got to go to dinner with some of my favorite people in the world and as is usually the case the cell phones came out to take photos.

We like to commemorate our outings with pictures. Regular ones and the super obnoxious selfie kind.

The birthday girl asked for final approval on any photos that might be posted and everyone else chimed in that they wanted the same privilege.

Now this isn't to say these ladies are vain. That is truly not the case but most people like some say so over what goes out into the world to represent themselves.  I chimed in that I didn't care. That everyone should be aware of this based on what I myself would post.

Then a wonderful thing happened. One of my amazing friends said she didn't think I had ever taken a bad photo.

Although we deal in sarcasms and jokes most of the time this was a sincere compliment. It is my opinion that this is much more a statement about our friendship than my extreme photogenicness.

As proof I offer up these fantastic photos of myself from this awesome evening.

because I'm classy I'm licking salsa off my phone here.

this is obviously my "see food" face

here I am imitating the gen Xers ( or gen Y? I really have no idea what they are called)

Are you supposed to look up or down when taking a selfie?

We are quick to judge everyone we meet on first glance. We have read countless studies about how attractive people have an easier life. How blondes have more fun or how dressing nicely gets you treated differently.

I'm sure all of this is true. I can think of numerous times someone has proven my preconceived notions wrong.

We say beauty is only skin deep but we should add a caveat. Beauty is only skin deep in friends.

Covered in sweat or dressed in our Sunday best. Smiling we are always beautiful.

a smile is better than any makeup.

I sweat, I don't glisten.

Although I don't talk about it all the time I frequent the gym. It's been a few years so I know most of the instructors and most of them know me. There are a few, of course, who I only know in passing, as I don't frequent their classes.

While having a chat with one of my good friends, who is also an instructor, one of the lesser known (to me) instructors came over.

LKI (lesser know Instructor): Ronnie right?

me- Yup

LKI- Where is your puddle?

me- Of sweat? yeah I left that in the other room.


My sweating is a topic of conversation among the gym staff.  

Yeah, you read that right. That's how bad it is! I'd be embarrassed if it wasn't true.

That's my mat after a work out. I was probably only on it for 10 minutes.

A photo from my hike. This is about halfway up the mountain. By the time we were done the only dry part of my shirt was the bottom edge. Then it started to rain and I could pretend that was why I was wearing a wet shirt.

How do I escape the Devil?

So I moved!!!(More on this later.)

Thanks to some great friends we were able to get everything from the old house all the way (.68 miles) to the new house. I am so lucky and grateful for how awesome everyone has been to us.

Not really surprising though. Based on my level of awesome one could only assume that everyone who would associate with me would be similarly awesome.

Two and a half days of back breaking labor where the only sustenance provided was pizza and beer.

Pizza and Beer you say? I've worked for less? I hear that. But this wasn't Brooklyn pizza. This was North Carolina pizza and although the South has a lot of culinary brilliance to offer pizza isn't one of them.

Back to the subject at hand though.

So as we moved every thing to the new house one wonderful person made sure there was toilet paper in all the bathrooms. She's a detail kind of person and no one wants to worry about if there is TP after carrying my ridiculously large green chair up a flight of stairs.

I was thankful to have so many people helping right up until I had to use the bathroom myself.

Dear God In Heaven how did I not know we had a anarchist among us?

I had let her get in close, trusted her, shared my home with her. All the while she was just waiting to set the world on fire. Now I'm in deep and I don't know how to get out.

I need help.

I can't continue to pretend that this okay. I can't keep quiet and just ignore it. Someone has to speak up!!!!


PS Obviously this is sarcasm. To all of my wonderful friends who helped me this past weekend I say thank you a thousand times over. You are truly awesome!

PPS If that door makes you wonder if it's bigger on the inside you are my people.

5,000 and 1989

Unless you all suddenly decide to desert me this post will mean my blog has been visited more than 5,000 times. I'd like to think that was 5,000 people but I know it is probably only about 50 people checking back sporadically and a bunch of spam bots.

In this momentous post you are going to get two random things.

One.

Part of the awesomeness of not drinking is I don't fear the police.

Out to dinner with some Gym Rats the other night we were called into the parking lot because hooligans had broken into one of our ladies cars and stolen her gym bag.

I won't go into why this was an epically stupid idea. Is there a black market for smelly sneakers and sweaty towels?

It was obvious from the police man's questions and the time of night that while the officer was trying to investigate the crime he was also trying to make sure anyone that was going to be driving could do so safely.

In case you weren't aware I'm pretty obnoxious. I don't turn this off in the presence of the law because I never have anything to fear.

Side note: As responsible adults there were enough DD's to take care of anyone that wanted to indulge.

If you've had one drink you tend to behave in front of the police because while you know you are under the limit you never want to push your luck.  I don't care. I make jokes and laugh loudly. I even tripped over my own shoes. (Not intentionally I'm just uncoordinated.)

Should he have deemed me a concern there was no fear on my part that I wouldn't pass a field sobriety test so I got to be me. Over the top. Loud and obnoxious.

IT WAS AWESOME.

Two.

The subject of twitter came up at the above mentioned dinner and I admitted that I tweet. (Even I hate the way that sounds.)

I was told I needed to follow Richard Marx. You remember him. Singer from the 80's.

So I checked him out and hit the big green follow button. Then this awesomeness happened.

@IamtherealVD Yeah, you need to dump that friend. Welcome aboard...:)
— Richard Marx (@richardmarx) June 29, 2013

If this was 1989 I would be fangirl freaking out. It's still pretty awesome in 2013.

Warriors Unite!

So remember back when I did the Spartan Race?

Apparently this is my new thing. I go to the gym. I drink protein shakes and I run obstacle races.

Weird. Really weird, but that's nothing new.

So this past weekend was another race.  The Warrior Dash.

Please note the AWESOME t shirts Triple S made for us.

 So early Saturday morning my ladies and I (plus one 'little' brother) got in the pedophile van* and headed to the race. There was singing and laughing and ridiculous antics. We played the radio loud and giggled like school girls. Not a one of us under 35, all of us mothers, all of us normal, responsible adults.

But underneath all those years is still that ridiculous girl that danced silly and sang loudly with her friends.

You give us some matching shirts and a chance to get dirty and we might as well be 15 again.

Plus the Warrior Dash is like the Spartan lite. All of the fun with none of the bruises.

Hell we didn't even get dirty until the last 15 yards.

There was fire

I'm the one that looks the most graceful. (2nd from the right)

and ropes.

That's my pink butt half way down the rope.

 So we ran together. We cheered for each other. We walked a bit. We climbed, balanced and crawled over cars together. Basically the ultimate girls day.

Then we got dirty. That's me in the upper right hand corner trying to pull some poor lady out of the mud. In the middle it was so thick people were getting stuck. (My inner nerd kept repeating the phrase Super Saturated. Because that is what nerds think about when other people get stuck in quicksand like mud.)

Then we got VIKING HATS! seriously. We all got one of these, plus a t shirt and a medal. I'm beginning to see why people sign up for these. FREE STUFF!

Plus after we got dirty there was a guy with a fire hose that cleaned us off like we were in a political riot.

It was a lot like this but with smiles.

So the next race is the Hero's Rush and then The Dirty Girl.

It's a sickness. Just do one they say. It's fun they say.

I might need an intervention. I'll let you know in October.

** sorry but it isn't really a pedophile van. It's just a giant blue van but it looks like it might have been on 'to catch a predator'.