hypocritical post in 3..2..1..

So yesterday I was all I don't talk politics on my blog and today, well let's talk politics.

We have a new president-elect and he brought tears to my eyes with his speech last night. I feel like I can say proudly that I am an American citizen. The phrase is unfamiliar and doesn't roll off my tongue easily, but I'm sure with time I'll become much more comfortable with it.

And McCain's concession speech? It was moving as well. To hear him congratulate Obama and sound like he sincerely meant it, was incredible. When he asked his supporters to offer the same respect and support to Obama that he will in the coming months and to remember that we are all fellow Americans, it made me believe that our country might just have a chance to heal and reconnect as one united front.

And while Obama's win made the night unbelievably amazing, the fact that California voted yes on Prop 8 also made the night unbelievably disheartening.

On a night when we voted in our first minority president, we took a right away from another minority group. And no matter how you feel about same sex couples, we can not start taking rights away from citizens. The fact that we can take away the right with only 52% of the vote is unacceptable. And don't even get me started on the fact that California residents care more about farm animals than their fellow humans. It is so mind numbingly ridiculous that I'm not certain I can apply words to it without them all being expletive.

To my friends in same sex relationships, I'm so sorry. I am embarrassed by California's actions, especially by the fact that other minority groups played a big part in taking away your right to marry whomever you want. Other minority groups that have had to fight for equal rights of their own in the past. I know I'm only one person but in my eyes, you and your spouse are still a family. The state may not legally recognize your union, but I do. Let's not allow this be the end of the fight for your equality.

um, can I have some of your moneys...

...because I can't afford gas


Man, we are all totally screwed. You best go put your name on a Prius waiting list right now.

shakey

Last night I nearly pooped my pants. No really, I'm not kidding. It was a tough call between pooping my pants, puking, and passing out. In the end, I settled on a fourth option, crying, because it seemed the easiest to deal with.

See, last night we had this little earthquake (5.6! Not so little to me!) and I was freaked out way more than I can explain. I was at the grocery which is very close to our house and our house is close to the epicenter. This all translates to a good bit of shaking.

Let me say now that we are fine. Our house is fine, our animals are fine, nothing broke, nothing really fell other than some books tipping over and a few things shifting a tiny bit. But I did not fair so well.

Since moving to the Bay Area I have been mentally preparing myself for earthquakes. After trying to deal with the thought of them in a few different ways I settled on denial. Why buy an earthquake kit when we'll never feel one all the way down here in the South Bay? Bottled water, smottled water, we'll never get one this far south. Are you starting to see how dumb I am?

The fact that last night's earthquake was not only noticeable, but actually caused (minimal) damage to the grocery store that I was standing in, totally freaked me out. Hello!! Did no one get the memo that the South Bay ISN'T SUPPOSED TO GET EARTHQUAKES??? DO NOT WANT!

I managed to pull myself together enough to check out and get home. Of course, pulling myself together meant standing in shock for a bit while the produce guy asked if I was going to pass out or if I wanted some water. Once home, I immediately dissolved into tears which did not stop for quite a while. Lots of friends called or texted to check on us (thanks! It made me feel so cared for!) and some tried to lighten the mood by suggesting that jparks and I might get eaten by "the gaping, hungry maw of Mother Earth." (cough cough dsandler cough cough). By 10 I had worn myself out enough that I was ready for bed, but I didn't sleep that well as I kept waking up expecting aftershocks.

The lessons learned are: 1) even in the South Bay I'm not guaranteed an earthquake free life and 2) jparks won't let me move. While I know that the built up pressure has been released and chances are we won't get another quake for awhile, I'm still buying a Costco membership this week and stocking up on supplies. Obviously denial didn't work out so well for me, so now I'm moving onto to preparedness.

advice taken

As anyone who will stand still and listen to me whine knows, I've been feeling stuck in a fashion rut. The casual office atmosphere of California blind-sided me and I adapted to it much too quickly, with arms way too open. I went from wearing dresses and heels daily to living in jeans, tee shirts, and comfy shoes. And while I don't think there's anything wrong with any of those items, I was starting to feel boring. And old.

Desperately wanting help, I turned to a very nice person with a very helpful fashion focused blog. And boy, help is what she gave. She wrote a long post packed with tons of tips to cure me of my fashion ailments. It was such a helpful piece that jparks even read it, and today said "You're wearing an accessory, just like the post said to do!" (nevermind that I was wearing a necklace that I wear all the time. I was just impressed he read a fashion article)

I've taken Susan's advice to heart and am planning on stocking up on chinos, strappy sandals, and a jean jacket as soon as I can get to a mall. Or wrestle the credit card out of jparks' wallet. Until then, I'm shopping my own closet and hoping for the best.

And because she asked so nicely, here's a picture of today's outfit. I dug out some jeans from the Gap (I noticed after leaving the house that they are just a bit too long, even with heels), a silk shirt from Banana Republic, and some heels I had forgotten about. It was a simple outfit, but somehow felt better than my normal work uniform.


Now if I could only find the time to flat iron my hair and throw on some makeup I'd be unstoppable.

my newest hobby

People in the know probably think this is going to be a post about my sudden desire to take ballet class. (which I am going to start doing next week) Well people in the know, you are wrong. This post is about my sudden fascination with earthquakes. Actually, I'm not sure fascination is the correct word. "Obsessive about dying" in one might be more accurate.

Recently we had a mild earthquake out here. While jparks and I were actually pretty close to it, we felt nothing, yet our friends further away did. And even though it was very mild and caused no damage, it still got me thinking. And by thinking I mean, pissing my pants.

Before I get started let me say that, yes I know I should be excited about little earthquakes and not just because it was a great Tori Amos album, but because they release the built up tension and help ward off bigger earthquakes. I know all of this and yet I'm still terrified of earthquakes no matter what size they are.

So the other night we had that small earthquake and it got me thinking "Hey self, did you know you'll probably be killed in an earthquake. And self, if you don't die then you'll probably be trapped under a bookshelf and Lily will have to gnaw through your leg to free you. And she's got really tiny teeth, so that's going to take awhile." I thought maybe if I spoke to resident Californians about earthquakes they would help ease my mind, but that has not proven true at all.

One set of locals told me about how in the 1989 earthquake places were without power for awhile and how part of the Bay Bridge collapsed onto itself. (I refuse to drive across it) At no point in time did they ease my mind, but thankfully nothing they said was new information.

Then I tried another set of locals and that's when things turned ugly. The words that have done me in are "In an earthquake you are either the squish-er or the squish-ee." Guess what folks, I'M A SQUISH-EE! Holy crap, I live on the bottom floor of a three story building. I. Will. Be. Squished.

Now at night, rather than sleep, I stare at the ceiling willing it not to fall on me in an earthquake. And when I'm not doing that, I picture the couple that lives above us crashing through it and flattening me with their bed, which I imagine to be a four post one that will impale me on one of the posts. Then I immediately go back to willing the ceiling not to fall. In short, I'm having trouble sleeping at night.

And I'm not just obsessing at night. At work I'm on the second floor. This means I'm a squish-er and a squish-ee. I'm going to die while squishing another person. It's almost enough to make me quit, but then I would just be hanging out in my apartment all day where I'll die a squish-ee. At least dying at work I'm earning money so I'll die dressed nicely and in good shoes.

I need to find a new hobby quick.

recycling my way to Blogher

Last year I went to the Blogher conference because it was conveniently located in my backyard. This year I would love to attend again, but they uprooted the conference and moved it across the country to Chicago. Thanks to them moving the conference, the cost will be more than just admission; I'll have airfare, food, and lodgings to consider. Today I spent a chunk of time scheming ways to pay for the trip: pole dancing? haven't lost enough weight yet. Not buying new spring clothes? hehe, sure. Selling a kidney on craigslist? They've banned human organ sales. It seemed that for every good idea I had there was a reason why it could never work.

That was until my light bulb finally went off and I saw the solution to my financial woes. Recycling! What?!? That's right folks, recycling is how I'm going to attend Blogher in Chicago.

Here in California we pay a fee, in addition to the selling price, when purchasing beverages in cans and bottles. This was a foreign, confusing concept for me when we first arrived, but now I've grown used to it and am no longer confused as to why my receipt has a CRV line (At first I thought I was slowly making payments towards a Honda). Right now jparks and I throw our recyclables into the bins in our apartment building's garage and let them deal with towing them to the recycling center. By doing this we are losing money, money that we've all ready shelled out simply to enjoy that can of diet coke, but I just wrote it off as the cost of being lazy. I'm no longer going to, literally, throw money away, especially since they've just raised the amounts you can get for bottles and cans.

So, starting immediately, in the Parks' household all cans and bottles will be rinsed and then brought to our local recycling facility. There I will happily collect my handful of change and set it aside for Blogher. The conference is not until the end of July, so I hope to have enough recycling money set aside by then. And I'm not above accepting bottles and cans from folks that are like the old me, way too lazy to bring them in themselves.

Wish me luck!

going back to cali

Jparks and I are finally heading back to Cali tomorrow morning, and as much as I love being in New Orleans with friends and family, I'm very ready to get back to my shit-hole apartment. We've been on 'vacation' since the 23rd and I miss my animals, I miss my bed (stupid air mattresses that deflate in the middle of the night), and I even miss my job. The reason why we've extended our stay hasn't made it any easier either.

We've decided that the additional time we've spent here this trip has made it impossible to come back for Mardi Gras. Well, impossible unless we win a lottery between now and the end of February. Which is totally possible. I'm kinda planning on it happening. There's no way this plan can go wrong, right?

trying to cut the cord

Since the hurricane I've had a hard time adjusting to the fact that I no longer live in New Orleans. I pause when people ask me where I'm from; do they mean where do I currently live, or do they know I'm not local and want to know where I came from? The past few times I've been asked this question I just stood there with my mouth open, puddle of drool gathering around my feet. People assumed I was from Mississippi, based on that puddle of drool and my inability to answer a simple question.

I've slowly started to accept that in certain ways California is home. I voted here, I've got a CA driver's license, and I drive a yuppie car. I'm very Californian in those aspects.

But in other ways I'm having trouble becoming Californian. Whenever jparks mentions buying a house here, I clam up and won't even discuss it with him. I think that some part of me isn't ready to own property in this ridiculously over-priced area. Or maybe it's just that as long as we don't own property here we can leave at any time; head back to a land below sea level where I feel more comfortable.

Right now we think nothing of heading back to NOLA for the holidays. But once we have kids, flying halfway across the country will no longer be an easy feat and holidays will have to be spent here. But without Celebration in the Oaks, Cajun Night Before Christmas, and Benny Grunch and the Bunch I'm not sure how the holidays will ever feel right.

And at what point in time do I need to stop feeling like it's my right to have time off of work for Mardi Gras? When will I stop feeling like something is not right if once a year I don't stand in the middle of a street with a beer in one hand, cold Popeye's chicken in the other, and yell at men on floats to throw me some long beads?

I guess what I'm wondering is how long do you have to be gone from a place before you stop thinking of it as home? I need to know so that just a day before I hit that amount of time I can move back to NOLA.

no blog posts for you

You can all hold jparks accountable for the lack of blog posts. I sat down tonight to make a lovely post about our day at the Renaissance Faire and that jerk pulled me away from the computer to have me make flight arrangements for our trip back to New Orleans during Christmas and New Year's. Yeah you read that right, we're coming home for the holidays.

Everyone better open their calendars up and make time for me, dammit!

And until I get the post about the Faire up, here's a picture of jparks trying to throw a knife. He took this very seriously and tried his best. Thank godness we don't have to rely on him to hunt down our food. But we would be sooooo skinny. hmmm, I'll have to check into that.

hoping for a rainy winter

Can I just tell you that the Bay Area deosn't fuck around when it comes to the changing of seasons. A few days ago it was warm. Not full out hot like New Orleans, but warm. Then it cooled down to what I would call fall, for maybe three days. Fall was nice, I was enjoying it, but then this morning I woke up and it's winter.

Now I know some locals might call me crazy, but temperatures in the upper 50's say winter to me. If I can wear a sweater, it's winter. If I get the itch to knit, it's winter. If I automatically order a latte instead of an iced latte, it's winter.

Thanks to this onslaught of winter weather Lily has to wear some of her wide array of sweaters and t-shirts. And she is thriller. T-H-R-I-L-L-E-D. She hates nothing more than wearing clothes, but she actually isn't being as stubborn about it as usual. I think even Lily agrees that it's cold and is ready to properly dress for the season.

Here she is representing the 504:


And even when Lily's got clothing on, she still feels the need to burrow herself into a blanket to nap.


It also rained today. It hasn't rained since the first two days we got out here in April. That's almost six months without seeing water falling from the sky. I forgot how much I love rain and cloudy days. I forgot how nice it is to have a grey sky filled with clouds above you. How nice rain feels on your face when it's been dry for so long. How rain makes me feel like I'm in New Orleans. How rain washes your car for you. Oh, rain stay for a while please.

Santa Cruz Sunday

Sunday I took a trip to Santa Cruz with the girls to get some shoe shopping done see the delightful beach town I had heard so much about.

Well, I've got to say Lauren and Ewa weren't so thrilled with Santa Cruz, but I was really won over by the town. The downtown area was cute, with a locally owned bookstore that made me swoon, and enough shoe stores to make my head feel disconnected from my body. wedges, and sandals, and mary janes, oh my.

Whitney tried on a pair of 14 eyelet Doc Martins that I really wanted her to get. They were just so awesome and if I bought them jparks would have divorced me, so having a friend own them is almost as satifying as having them myself. Alas, she didn't get them, so they are still up for grabs.

After shopping we went to the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. I must admit, this I was skeptical of, but once there I actually had quite a bit of fun. I mean, how can you not have fun while eating an ice cream cone and enjoying the incredible busy feeling on a beach boardwalk? We even rode a ride, the EZ Glider, which was just a perfect fit for the laid back day we were having.



Look ma, there were sailboats not far off the shore of the beach.


I must say, Santa Cruz won me over. I would consider going back, especially when I am in need of more shoes. Or an ice cream cone. Or if I should ever completly lose my mind and want to put on a bathing suit and hang out on a beach.

seasons change

Holy crap on a stick, I think I'm experiencing a thing I've only ever heard about: the changing of the seasons! I mean, I don't want to jinx anything by getting all excited but OH MY GOD IT'S COOL OUTSIDE AND I CAN'T HELP BUT YELL.

Now that I've got that out of my system, COOL WEATHER I TELL YA, okay now I'm really done, I can only think God will punish for getting excited by sending a very unseasonably warm spell to this area. Please, God don't punish me, I really want to wear my sexy boots. Ohh perhaps I should not mention sexy boots to God. But then again, He must know they are sexy right? God, please don't send me to hell. Wait, I'm sure my Grandmother already made some deal with him to get me out of hell when I first lived in sin with a boy. Yay for MawMaw saving my soul, I'm not going to hell. I can do whatever I want! Hey God, don't make it hot again or else!

Like I was saying before, it's cool here. Cool weather means when I go to stores and see cute fall outfits I won't get mad because sweaters in New Orleans are pointless. Unless you want to sweat away a few pounds, then they are awesome. But sweaters here are good, cute, and functional.

Really I just like fall clothes better because it's easier to hide pockets of fat under a sweater than under a sexy little tank top. And knee high boots are typically more confortable than strappy sandals.

And cool weather also means drinking hot cider. Ohhh, and mulled wine.

Yay for fall!

I'm a newlywed, shouldn't I be more chipper than this?

I’m feeling a little blah today and I'm not really sure why. Could be that the weekend was so much fun that going back to work is a hard slap in the face. Could be that I didn’t sleep well last night and am just really tired today. Could be that a few small things have been bothering me, slowing eating holes in my mind that other thoughts get trapped in, leaving me to obsess over the silly small things.

One thing that has really been weighing me down is the state of my life. There is really nothing glaringly wrong with it, just more of a "is this it?" shadow lingering over it. I love my husband, I love my friends, I love my shoes, and I really love my animals, but some things just aren't what I thought they would be.

Together Jason and my's combined income is high, yet we can't buy a house. Crap, we can't even buy a condo. I love living in California and at this point in time we don't have any choice but to live here, but it pains me to not own a little spot that is mine. A place I can paint in any color I want or hang a picture without worrying about having to patch the hole in a year. Or a place where if I have the option to not have beige carpet. Stupid, crazy expensive real estate.

And then there is my job. Yes I get paid well, yes I like my boss, yes I'm happy to be working for a nonprofit, changing the world for the better, but is this really what I saw myself doing when I was a kid? I don't remember thinking "when I grow up I want to sit at a desk and file invoices and answer phones." Even now I keep thinking, "I should be doing something more creative than this." But what? I can't draw, sing, play an instrument, act, dance, direct, or mime so what does that leave me? Sitting at a desk answering phones and filing invoices. I need to accept this is it. ugh.

I guess I'm going through a really early midlife crisis.

on my way to becoming a real blogger

Next weekend is the Blogher convention in San Jose and, seeing as that's basically my backyard, I'll be attending the 2nd day of girly blogging festivities. I'll be there, rubbing elbows with some of the world's most vocal female bloggers, or (what's more likely to happen) hanging around the edges of the room that contain some of the world's most vocal female bloggers.

While Day 1 has a couple of panel discussions I'm interested in, it's on a Friday and I have that silly little thing called work. So I'll be attending Day 2, which has its fair share of interesting panel discussions.

And since I'm going to the conference I also decided to add my humble little domain to Blogher's blogroll. By registering it I have the option to add a description about my blog, which has just left me completly frozen with writer's block. It seems like the most impossible thing in the world to write about myself and while I understand that keeping a blog is writing about myself, this little description seems impossible. I mean, how can I describe me and my life in a few paragraphs? How does one portray an obsession with the world's cutest dog without sounding crazy? How can I explain that my lust for books is so strong that the list of books to be read is forever growing and slowly taking over the house? How can I explain that I'm fighting to keep me sanity while living with jparks?

This "about me" blurb has been something I've worked on since I started Formation of Me and it's something I still haven't finished. Actually, I'm not sure when I'll finish, or if I'll ever finish. I guess people that stumble here will just have to read the posts and figure me out for themselves. Sorry. I wish I could help you decipher me, but I can't.

living life in the fast lane

What a fun, slow weekend Jason and I have had thus far. In the past few weeks it seems like we rarely get to spend time at home and since we somehow managed to get a weekend with no plans we decided to use that to be homebodies, do some cleaning, and maybe get some dangle time in (aka go to the climbing gym). And Jason had time to sort his Warlord cards and work on his D&D story. Oh yeah! He was double dorking this weekend.

The weekend started Friday night with the Radiohead concert in Berkeley. The venue was really nice, an outdoor Greek style theater that was just the perfect size for concerts. I was amazed by the fog that rolled into the theatre as dusk hit, until I realized it wasn't fog, just huge quantities of pot smoke. You would have been hard pressed to find anyone besides Jason and I that wasn't stoned. In fact, I'm pretty sure just sitting in that theatre got us a little stoned. Jason did ask for five more churros when he was finished the one I bought him.

Anyway, the show was good. Thom Yorke had technical problems with mics and such all throughout the set and got to throw hissy fits at his crew. A few times I was sure he was going to storm off the stage and I know I wasn't the only person thinking that. There were a few moments it seemed the whole crowd held their breath to see if he was going to continue with the set. Or maybe everyone had just taken a hit and was holding it in. Now that think of it, the silences were followed by everyone coughing when they exhaled.

When Radiohead left the stage during their first break Jason turned to me and asked if I wanted to go. And in true 80-year-old style I said yeah. I remember when you wouldn't have been able to drag me out of a venue even after the band was done, the lights were on, and security was dragging all the knocked out moshers off the pit floor. But last night it just seemed like a good idea to leave during the first break. Jason had heard the songs he wanted to hear and I had gotten up at 7am for work that morning, so why not beat traffic and leave ahead of the crowd? On the way out of the gates we were handed AARP cards and told we were officially eligible for senior citizen discounts at Denny's.

This morning Jason had his belay class at Planet Granite and once he was done with that we got our climb on. And by "got our climb on" I mean: got about half way up the wall while 9 year-olds flew past us on much harder walls, laughing and mocking us the whole time. I think I was called granny by one of them.

Okay so it wasn't that bad, but the gym was crawling with kids that were doing much better than Jason and I. We tried a few medium level walls and couldn't manage to complete them. We were there for a couple of hours and were tired and beaten up at the end of it. Well, Jason was beat up. He slammed into the wall of the way down one time and got a scrapped knee and elbow. That'll teach him for making me dangle.

Tonight we've hung out at the apartment, not doing much of anything. As I previously mentioned, Jason played with his Warlord cards and worked on his D&D story. I did some laundry, washed some dishes, and ironed. Hells yeah, I'm just like Donna Reed. Give me a pair of pearls and the transformation will be complete.

I hate to admit it, but my plans for tomorrow aren't much more excited than tonight's. I've got to do some more cleaning, read some of magazines that are piling up and overtaking the living room, and maybe run back to the gym to use their fancy schmancy workout equipment. If I'm feeling really adventurous I might run to the mall to return some things I bought, but don't fit.

I know, it's hard to imagine how any life can be this fast paced and exciting. It's a darn good thing I bought a planner to keep track of everything.

I'm a social butterfly

Here's what I have on my calendar for the next few weeks, just in case you are concerned with my social life:

Saturday, the 17th Crawdad Festival

Sunday, the 18th Aimee Mann, for free, at Stern Grove

Friday, the 23rd Radiohead concert at Berkeley

Tuesday, the 27th Counting Crows concert

Sunday, the 2nd of July the Violent Femmes and Dresden Dolls concert (It seems I'm going to this one by myself, but I have an extra ticket if anyone is interested)

hmmm, feels like I'm forgetting something.

it's official, I can sleep through anything.

Apparently there was an earthquake this morning at 5:24 am. And I slept through it. Dammit! I was looking forward to experiencing an earthquake and I slept through it. Grrrr, and if I were going to have to experience an earthquake I would have liked it to be this one. A nice small earthquake that causes no damage.

Sheesh, with my luck the next earthquake with be HUGE. As in, everything crumbles around me while I'm trapped under a bookshelf, huge. Lily will have to gnaw through my leg to free me. It's not going to be pretty.

Dear blog,

Hi, how are you? Sorry I haven't written in a while, life has been really busy and tiring. Really really tiring. In fact, I would much rather be asleep right now than writing this, but I missed you.

I started working this past Wednesday (a week ago today, awwww) and I've been struggling to keep my head above water since then. My boss has been going out of town for various reasons, leaving me to fend for myself and that's been the part that's wearing me out. So much to learn and I've got to learn it quickly and all on my own. Fun!

It's finally starting to get hot here in California. And by get hot I mean the other day I thought about wearing shorts and then realized this isn't really hot. Hot is 4274029% humidity and your shirt glued to your back by a layer of sweat that started to build the second you moved from your bed that morning, and you die if you wear long pants. We are not nearly that hot, although the way Californian's whine about the heat you would think we lived in hell and the devil was only providing hot cocoa to drink. And the devil's also making you wear a fuzzy wool scarf. That's how hot Californian's think it is. Big, whiney babies.

I had a run in with a toilet last night. I frequent this place that has bathrooms with heated toilet seats, frontal and rear cleaning features as well as a butt dryer. So last night I hit the frontal cleansing button just to see what it's about. Well, that was a mistake. The stream of water shot out with such force it scared me and I started laughing so hard I nearly fell off the toilet. I couldn't figure out how to stop the cleaning so I stood up and water continued to shoot out and got all over the bottom of my shirt. I couldn't get it to stop spraying so I had to sit back down. I finally figured out how to stop it but by then I couldn't stop laughing. Thankfully I was the only person in the bathroom because I'm sure I sounded like a nutjob, laughing at myself with water spraying everywhere. Lesson learned, never choose frontal cleansing again. If you are interested in installing your own personal bidet at home you can order one here. Seriously, try to contain your excitement.

Again blog, I'm sorry we haven't kept in touch. I'll try to be better about writing to you in the future but you have to promise to write back. This can't be a one way relationship, I can't give all the time. Sometimes I need to get some love and attention too.

Sincerely,
Regan

You should see it, I'm doing a happy dance

I got a job, I got a job!

I received word when we arrived in Austin that I am now the campaign coordinator for March of Dimes in Silicon Valley. This means not only was I rehired by MOD but I was given a promotion! Sweet!

I know I neglected to mention I had a job interview and stuff on here, but it seemed like bad luck. Plus what if my potential boss googled me, and found my blog? She'd see me bragging about how I had a job interview and that might make her think I'm cocky and then she might not want to hire me. Yeah, it wouldn't be the nake male butts that would have turned her off of me, it would have totally been my bragging.

So a new job means, wait for it, wait for it, shopping for new work clothes! And not just clothes but the kind of clothes I love, office appropriate attire. High heels, skirts, and other girly things! eppp!!! I can't contain myself!!! Thank god the new 2 story Banana Republic is about to open in the mall by my apartment. Perfect timing.

Learning the Bay to Breakers traditions

Today was Bay to Breakers. Jason and I completed the 12K (7.64 miles) in 2 hours and 15 minutes. Not bad, but not great either. I wanted to run the last four miles of the race but by then Jason was having some issues and couldn't run. Maybe next year I'll leave him behind and end up with a better finishing time.

We learned that there are lots of odd traditions associated with Bay to Breakers including a giant tortilla fight at the starting line. People bring bags of them and just start tossing them over the crowds. My plan is to next year bring cheese and refried beans to throw as accessories for the tortillas.
If you look closely at that picture you'll see a few tortillas flying overhead.


Another tradition: Salmon! Okay, people dressed like salmon, running from the finish line to the start (you know, upstream) all the while yelling "SPAWN!" and handing out high fives.




And let's not forget the oddest of all traditions: Bare to Breakers! This tradition is not for the faint of heart. It involves some people you would happily pay to stay dressed taking off all their clothes and running the whole race naked. Nude. Au natural. My favorite naked guy was the one that had his race numbers pinned to his chest using his nipple rings. Sweet!



After we got home from the race, Jason declared he was exhausted and collapsed on the couch with Lily for a while. I wonder how sore he's going to be tomorrow



There are more pictures from the race including costumes, floats, and naked men posted here