Running, running, and more running!

Yep, there are more half marathons on the schedule! If I'm still around, I plan on doing Grete's Great Gallop on October 4th (or 5th)...and saying hello for the last (local) time to my Avon Walk peeps at Closing Ceremonies.

If I do end up hanging out in Michigan for any length of time whilst job searching, then I'll do the Detroit Free Press Half Marathon, too. Just for fun and to give me something non-jobsearch-related to do!

A bunch of us are already registered for the Las Vegas Half Marathon in December. Talk about an awesome birthday road trip, right??? And - AND - there's a 'Showgirls' division!!! No, not for showgirls who want to run...but for folks who want to run dressed up as a Showgirl. How AWESOME!!!! Soooooooo gonna wear a costume!!! If nothing else, it's a guaran-damn-tee that I'll train my heiney off. There's nothing like the fear of exposed, jiggling body fat to get me running and to the gym.

And then we're on to next year...Gasparilla!!!! Everything's pirate-themed. I might even lie and say that it's my first Half Marathon just so they'll ring the Maiden Voyage bell for me and get my medal from a PIRATE!!!!

And, yes, I might even do ING Miami. Seriously.

The reason for all this running? Well, besides keeping me skinny and traveling again, check out Half2run.com...a half marathon in half the states! That's the goal!!!

I'm a huge fan!

Of the stink'n'drink! Takes me back to my old AWBC days when we'd be on the lot 'til FOREVER, come back to the hotel, and hit the bar. There's something powerfully (stinky) bonding about a bunch of event wack-a-doos sitting in a bar throwing 'em back.

Then people started to shower before coming back to the bar...bad, bad, bad!!! If I ever went up to my hotel room, there's no way I'm comin' back down.

I miss the good ol' days!

I can't believe Patrick Swayze is dying.

As I (re)watch Dirty Dancing for the gazillionth time, with Patrick Swayze lookin' smokin' hot and sexy and groovy, I can't believe he's dying. Yeah, yeah, I know that life AND death both happen, but seriously!??!?!

Johnny's gonna be gone? No invading my dance space? No sexy dancing with Baby...or bringing her out of the corner?

Sad, sad day 'twill be when he passes...

holy crap...

I know I'm awesome. My mom raised me to think so...she's ended nearly every conversation with me - ever! - by saying "you're the best!" But, um, wow. She just rewrote my (already pretty kick ass) resume...and I sound AMAZING. a-MAAAAAAAAAAA-zing. AMAZING.

Yes, I could go on ad nauseum. But 'amazing' pretty much covers it.

Moms rock. For SO many reasons. Appreciate yours. Now.

Amendment to change being good...(see below)

The only thing I DON'T like about change is the starting over with friends. Ok, so I'll walk into a new job and meet people. I'll volunteer or meet people through dog-related activities. Or maybe a running group or something. But I have such a wonderful, amazing, diverse range of friends here...I just wish I could bottle 'em up and take 'em with.

Yes, yes, I have fan-tab-u-lous friends all over the place. And, no, I haven't lost contact with many, many of them. Being in my nearly mid-30s, though, I'm sick of making new friends in new places. I've done it all my life.

So, who wants to move with me?? ;) Or I guess I could move where I already know peeps, huh?

change really is good...

Yes, so after a couple days of adjusting to a new, tighter deadline than expected, I'm ok. Most of my HOLY EFF reaction was much more because I hate being told what to do. ;) I'm just so not good at following other people's timelines. (And here I am going BACK to the working world? Oy vey!)

A little nervous, definitely some fear cropping up, but overall I'm really quite excited for a new adventure. Nothing like getting what you asked for, right? I can quite honestly say I have no idea where I'll end up. Or, really, what I'll be doing. I have ideas as to both - the what and the where, but who knows in the end?

So, I bought the space bags to start packing clothes. I'm starting the book and clothing purge on Thursday (I was blessed with a random day off!). My mom and I are working on my resume this morning so I can start sending it out to people fully updated and snazzified!

Mom was even rather receptive when I, somewhat tentatively, broached the subject of the dogs and I crashing with her in Michigan if, for some reason, the Magic Job doesn't materialize by September.

Options...there are always options!

90 days. or 3 months?

Why is it that saying "90 days" out loud gives me a feeling I can only akin to a heart attack? But that "3 months" doesn't reduce me to automatic panic? They're the same, right???

Well, this weekend, my landlord made me aware that I have 90 days, or 3 months, to be out of my apartment unless I want to sign a new, year-long lease. Nothing says, "Hannah your life is changing" quite like news like that, eh?

And, yeah, he sent me a text on July 4th. Happy freakin' Independence from life as you know it, eh?

So. Now. I guess I need a job and to move. Shite.