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True Life: I Went Running and Got Lost
Sooo, let’s talk a little bit about how I was planning on running a 5.5 mile loop today, but ended up getting completely and totally lost and clocked in almost 7 miles instead. Whoops! I definitely should have thought about the fact that I have absolutely no sense of direction before I set out on a new trail that, about every 500 yards or so, branches out into new paths that lead in every which direction.
Actually, that part was kind of nice at the beginning of the run because I wasn’t at all paying attention to the time or distance since I was preoccupied with trying to figure out which way I needed to go in order to get back to the starting point. Obviously that didn’t work out, though, because about 3.5 miles in I finally realized I was not running in a loop and figured out that I needed to turn around and go back the way I came if I wanted to ever see civilization again. To give you a hint at how much of a sense of direction I have… I also got lost after I turned around and tried to run the same route back. Thank goodness I had my iPhone and I was able to pretend to know how to use a compass!
Despite getting quite sidetracked, it was actually an awesome run. I felt great, maintained my goal of keeping under a 10-minute-mile pace, and the scenery was beautiful, so I can’t really complain. The whole ordeal might have also taken me a bit longer because I stopped to snap some photos to share!
I love this trail because all the locals take their horses out on it. I waved to this guy and said, “Beautiful horse!” and he tipped his cowboy-ish hat to me. Dammit! I want a horse and a cowboy-ish hat!
I got to run along this super swerve-y boardwalk that runs over a marsh, which made me feel like I was in a video game. (Bonus points for not falling into the swamp!)
And, nothing can ever beat running along the water! (I’d prefer the ocean, but lakes are cool too!)
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Howard Zinn - Justice in Everyday Life: The Way it Really Works
While the NYPD maintains that they neither own nor use tear gas, some have stepped forward to confirm that they were pepper-sprayed. In at least one video, a man is violently tackled for simply talking to an officer.
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I Don’t Care If You Don’t Care
I’m from New York. I know you didn’t ask, but I figured you’d want to know anyway.
See, this is a problem I’ve recently developed since moving to a new state. I find myself injecting the fact that I am from New York into conversations that have nothing to do with one’s state of origin. It doesn’t matter what I’m talking about. I have an unprecedented talent for starting off any sentence with the words, “Well, I’m from New York…” especially when it is almost completely irrelevant.
Talking to the librarian while signing up for a library card: “Do you have proof of your address in Loudoun County?” she asks. “Well, I’m actually from New York (Wink, wink. Nudge, Nudge. Talk to me about New York.) and here’s an envelop my mom sent me with my new address on it.” She didn’t care.
Talking to the lady at the farmer’s market who started to tell me about her daughter who was coming home from New York for the weekend: “Oh my god, New York! I’m from New York! (Please, talk to me about New York!)” I said. Not a chance.
Talking to the instructor at the yoga studio: He asked me if I was interested in signing up for a package of classes. “Well, I’m from New York (Isn’t New York SO cool!?), I just moved here and I’m not sure if I definitely want to do it yet.” Nothing.
But, the day that I ordered lunch from the German restaurant and randomly interjected into my conversation with the cashier that I was from New York, I found out the secret to being from New York. Only people who are from New York will care if you are from New York.
“Get out! Get outta here,” he said as he lifted up his arm to show me his New York Yankees tattoo. He didn’t have to say anything else. We proceeded to have a thirty minute long conversation. About New York, of course.
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So, apparently my New York driving
is a bit too fast paced for these laid back, southern folks. (O.K., I’m practically in Maryland. Who am I even kidding? This isn’t the south!) Either that or I just was not paying any attention at all to the speed limit because I was much more focused on staring at my GPS so I could figure out (for the millionth time now) how to get to work. (Hint, it’s the second reason. And yes, I have done the drive four days in a row now, and I still have no idea how to get there from my apartment without the assistance of a robot-voiced lady telling me exactly when and where to turn. God help me.)
But anyway, back to the real point of the story, which is that I totally got pulled over on my way to work today for going 47 in a 25 MPH zone. Whoops. I mean, I wasn’t doing it intentionally and it didn’t even feel like I had been driving that fast. (OMG, like 47 is even fast!) The cop came right on over to my car and in his southern policeman accent said, “Are you aware of the speed limit here ma’am?” I told him that I really, honestly wasn’t.
“I just moved here. I’ve been trying to pay attention to the speed limit signs but it’s hard when I’m also following my GPS because I don’t know how to get anywhere yet.”
Can’t you just imagine me saying that while batting my eyelashes at him? I should have said it like some kind of damsel in distress, southern belle. “Oh officer, please forgive me.” The funny thing is, he actually was really good looking! I wish I had flirted with him, but I was too busy shitting my pants because that was my first time ever being pulled over. Oh well, next time. No, just kidding. I’d rather not have any more tickets, thank you very much. Even if they are from a handsome man in uniform.
Maybe he thought I was cute though too, because apparently he could have arrested me for how fast I was going, (WHOOPS!! They’re strict down here!) but instead he just let me off with a $30 fine. “I wouldn’t want to do that to you right after you just got down here,” he said. Call me!!!
New York, I miss you. I can’t wait to visit back home so I can drive 70 and feel like I’m going slow while everyone else is flying by at 90.