Running Thoughts

Running is mind over matter. Unfortunately for me, my mind takes on a whole other perspective with the true meaning of ‘positive self talk’….
My legs feel like cement blocks
Why am I doing this again?
I shouldn’t have had supper before coming out here.
You should congratulate yourself for even being out here!
Congratulations! Ugh.
Running is hard. Ugh, I just sounded like a tween with an attitude problem. “Oh Ma Gawd…running is so, like, you know, hard and everything?!”
Playing chicken with a semi is scary…kinda.
Was he laughing at me?! Asshole.
Come out here and run with me! Yeah…I thought so.
Ooohhh..pretty…sunshine.
Inclines are small hills designed to piss me off.
I like walking…walking is good.
I must have dissociative disorder ‘cause I just heard a voice yell at me in my head “UMMM…EXCUSE ME! ARE WE WALKING HERE?! ‘CAUSE I DON’T REMEMBER US SAYING WE ARE GOING FOR A WALK! HAS THE PLAN CHANGED?! WALKING??!! REALLY??!!” God, Shut up. She’s not nice. I don’t like her much.
Good thing I try to run, otherwise therapy may not be a bad idea.
How far have I gone? 17 minutes??!! IS THAT ALL??!!
I need new lungs…
Oh, goody another hill/incline/pain in ma ass!
I love downhill…
“Yay, hi yeah running here!” *wave* fuck, I hope I knew that person, otherwise I’m just an asshole waving at random drivers hoping they’ll save me from an impending cardiac arrest…
Oh, look Snow’s Lane. The reason for all of my hate…
OH GAWD, IT’S PERFECT RUNNER DUDE. QUICK! LOOK GOOD BY RUNNING! Oh, Geez are you back again?
I am running…
UGH…NEVER MIND. YOU SUCK…
Hahahaha…if I could laugh like Eddie Murphy, I so would be doing that right now…and, hey Sunshine! I ran…some. Shut up!
Almost home now…
“WE ARE NOT SO ALMOST HOME! WE HAVE THE WHOLE FUCKING LANE TO GO YET, DUMDUM!!!! ARE YOU JUST TRYING TO PISS ME OFF?!! WILL YOU PLEASE GET GOING?! I HAVE STUFF TO DO!!”
I just ran up that hill…
WHADDA YA MEAN?! THAT WASN’T A HILL!! THAT WAS AN ITTY BITTY INCLINE!! MOVE IT GIRLIE!
You know, it would be much better if you spoke nicer…
NICE??!! YOU WANT NICE??!! OKAY…HERE’S NICE. MOVE YOUR ASS BY RUNNING AND STOP WHINING…PLEASE!! THERE. NICE.
That was lovely, thanks.
I SAID PLEASE! MOVE IT!
Okay, okay…geesh. Stop being so cranky…
Oh, look. I’m on Stavangar!
UGH. FINALLY.
………..
OKAY, GO!
Home. Made it. I rock.
YEAH. NICE JOB.
Thanks.
YOU. ARE. WELCOME. NEXT TIME I’M NOT GOING TO BE AS NICE.
I know.
JUST SO WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER.
Self talk is supposed to be positive.
I WAS POSITIVE! YOU RAN WHEN I YELLED. POSITIVE RESULTS.
Mmmhmmm….
YOU HUNGRY?
Ugh…
WHAT?!

I think this would be way more fun....

I think this would be way more fun….

 

 

The Word Game

words

There’s a wrestling match going on inside my head and so far Rogue is losing to the opponent.  Problem is I’m not sure who or what the opponent is.  He remains nameless and faceless.  I resolve to write a great post full of wit and wisdom and end up with this…this…rambling and fumbling of words.  I fucking hate that.

In order to free up the creative process, let’s play a little game.  I’ll say a word and the other me will write down the first thing that pops into my head.  It’s easier when there is more than one ‘you’ inside your head.  Yay for mental health!  Ready, people?  Let’s go!

Ball- Run

String- This is stupid

Room-  With a view!  I win!

Desk- A Fucking mess

Lindsay Lohan-  Also, a fucking mess

Pen- With which to write which I haven’t, thus the need for this idiotic exercise. Next.

Apple- Crunchy

Chair- Dumb chair.  Fell over it this morning…oh. Sorry.

Dog-   The cutest wittle doggie evah…ahem.  Again, sorry.

Weight- Wait?  Or WEIGHT!  Like HOLY SHIT I WEIGH HOW MUCH? Or HOLY SHIT I HAVE TO WAIT HOW LONG?!!  Which one?  Both are evil.

Fruit-  Owns a hair salon and totally denies he’s gay…oh!  You mean FRUIT, like apples and oranges and stuff…again with the apples? Ugh.

Heat- Totally absent in this space and therefore I am FUCKING FREEZING!!  Hello?!! Oh!  I meant house.  I’m home today…back to the words…

Keys-  Ima gonna need a new set when they change the locks on the door…to my HOUSE of course, because that’s where I currently am.  HOME.  Yeah.

Florida- where I should be at the moment.

Book- Love them all, read them all, wrote a couple…awesome stuff.

Paper- Umm….white, blank lately, some have lines, trees died for them?  What do you want from me?

Elvis- We went from paper to Elvis?  Really?  “Thank you, you’re beautiful”.  All I got.

The lights are on but no one’s home-  The story of my life…This is supposed to be ONE word.

Money-  Apparently not something young adults take downtown so instead of  YA being able to get home independently, she feels the need to call the mommy so she can meet her at a location only to have that location change when mommy gets there due to the absence of money and the YA’s ability to avail of the public transportation system therefore, after much yelling and throwing of cell phone in car, (which sadly now works intermittently at best) mommy dutifully drives all over fucking town (since the location of pick up changed twice after the first time) to rescue daughter and friend only to hear  “thanks” and “well, if you had let me take the car this wouldn’t have happened”…. Good thing my phone is due for an upgrade….

Fuck off- See above.  ‘nuff said.

Thank you for playing.  See you next time on WORD ASSOCIATION-THE BEST GAME FOR YOUR MENTAL HEALTH.

Disclaimer Clause:  It should be noted that no harming of any cars, horses, dogs, cats, wandering hobos, daughters or cell phones occurred in the above scenario.  Swearing was kept to whispers and loud voices in my head…I think it was implied in the yell of “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T HAVE ANY MONEY?  WHO GOES DOWNTOWN WITHOUT CASH?!!  TELL ME!  WHO DOES THAT?!”   Ugh….

WTF? A Question Without An Answer….

Good morning/afternoon/evening/whatever the fuck time zone you are in readers and welcome to the first installment of WTF?  A new series dedicated to the bizarre and often strange happenings of not only the universe pissing its inane sense of humor on all of us unfortunate beings, but the strange reaction we beings seem to have to this pissing match.  Let the urinating begin!

-I don’t know what the strange orange crap is that appeared on my keyboard today, but I’m hoping it will kindly disappear from whence it came. Apparently the disinfectant wipes don’t fucking work on orange crap.  Awesome.  Thank you.

-My daughter is reading Macbeth in English class…she is not impressed so I decided to text her a quote.  I think I’ll text  a whole soliloquy later just so she can be astounded and amazed by my awesomeness.  That’s how it works, right?  Quoting Shakespeare to your seventeen year old daughter?  Yeah, I’m so cool right now.

– The rattling noise in my car is still there.  I’ve wisely decided that it is intent on producing such harmonious sounds so as to extract a venomous reaction from yours truly.  I’m choosing the Penny solution.  I know it’s there, I’m hoping it will go away.  I’ll just ignore it until it falls dead on the road or it silently fades into oblivion.  There.  Problem solved.  The League of Nations should be calling me soon to solve the world peace issue.  I’ll just wait here patiently by the phone.

-Stuffing money down your bra when you’re hammered at the poker table and think you’ve just won a million dollars by beating every sober person around you, counts in real time poker too.  Where’s Bestie’s bracelet?  Vegas baby!!!

-My explanation for the downfall of my previous blog has hit all new heights since everybody now thinks I’m dead.  They think my old blog has been imploded due to my untimely and grisly demise.  Death by blogging.  A truly horrific event.  I think there’s a dedicated Facebook page in my memory.  Please sign and let me know you care…or cared…or… yeah.  I expect awesome eulogies, and sentimental anecdotes.  Father Leslie is not invited…nor should he be notified.  He might say something like “her math was terrible, but what a good housewife she was.”  Is it blasphemy to swear at a priest?   Hmmm….Should I care about that if I’m dead?  OH!  Don’t forget the bringing of flowers.  Lots o’pretty  flowers….awww….

-In other news totally unrelated to anything news-worthy or logical, a Dutch airline is holding an investigation into an alleged copilot allegedly sleeping while allegedly operating a plane.  The pilot was out of the cockpit taking a …well, leak…bathroom break…draining the main vein.  You get my drift.  He tried to get back into the cockpit but was locked out.  Seems co-pilot was too sleepy to let him back in. It’s all quite speculative right now.  I think if the co-pilot fell asleep, he no longer qualifies as ‘operating’ the plane…that means while the pilot was out relieving himself and the co-pilot was snoozing in dreamy-dreamland, then logically…THERE WAS NOBODY FLYING THE DAMNED PLANE!!  Where’s Samuel L. Jackson when you need him?  Ugh.  So, congrats to the Dutch airline for broadcasting this tiny flaw in the airline biz and the balls to come out and say that co-pilots pretty much do squat.  Awesome.  I think my next career is set.  Co-pilot for the Dutch airlines.  Do I have to speak Dutch?  Hmm….Oh, right.  I’m dead already, so I can speak whatever language I choose!  I choose the illustrious language of pig latin.  Iway ockray.

IMG_5629

The Maggie Equation

Our new addition to our family is taking up a lot of time.  Not that we are resentful, just surprised at how much one little animal can impact a family.  Maggie is our new silky terrier and she is very cute…a baby in a dog body, this girl can woo you into babbling baby-talk in 0-60.  I went from being a semi-intelligent half-wit, to a babbling new mommy “Who’s a pretty girl?  Who’s a pretty girl?  Oh, yes Maggie is a pretty girl.  Ooooh” in no time flat…ugh.  It’s funny how your daily topic of conversation goes from the political arena of the province to how many times the dog peed on the carpet today.  I’m even calling home to check up on her.  “Did you brush her?  Is she sleeping?  Did you remember to put her favorite blanket in her bed?”  Ugh…I always thought dog parents were a bit nutty and now I know why.  When you have this face looking up at you on a minute-by-minute basis, how can you not be a gooey mass of a human?

Maggie and her best "Am I adorable or what?" face

Maggie and her best “Am I adorable or what?” face

Her sleeping habits are well…not really sleeping as much as ‘let’s see how I can get my human mommy to open my crate.  I’ll whine my head off and she can’t help but open up this damned door.  Sucker…’  and so it goes.   We’ve managed to get a few hours sleep and she’s getting used to us as the days wear on, but I fear this pooch is going to be so spoiled that come spring, she’ll be expecting us to buy her the little doggie booties so her precious paws don’t ever touch real pavement.  OR, putting little pink bows at the top of her head or going for doggie spa days.  I’m hoping it won’t come to this massive explosion of insanity, but never say nevah…she’s our precioussssssss.  See?  The Gollum-brain is starting to take over….Perhaps an intervention will be in order.

See?  It has begun...

See? It has begun…

 

A Conversation

It’s Sunday evening.  The house is quiet.  The D’s are hidden away in their rooms and Hubby and son have gone off to hockey, leaving me alone with the chocolate cookies and a football game on TV.   Yeah.  Football.  The strangest game on earth.  I don’t understand the joy people seem to get from guys ramming their heads into each other and throwing a ball around.  I guess you have to be a guy to understand it?  Although there are women who enjoy this too.  I can see them in the stands…and the scantily clad ones cheering…hmmm….maybe that’s why guys watch the game.  I’m starting to understand this now.

Why are there no cheerleaders in hockey? They don’t want to get a puck in the nose.  Soccer?  They don’t want to get a stray ball in the side of the head.  Baseball? Waaaaayyy too long a game.  Cricket?  Wait…what? WTF is that?!  A game with a broad stick, a ball and running around...sounds a lot like baseball.  It’s not.  Oh.

Congratulations, you have just witnessed my first schizophrenic conversation!  How do you feel?  A little disturbed?  Slightly uncomfortable?  Awkward and a little unsettled like someone that has been staring at you just a tad too long?? Yeah…I hear ‘ya.

I was checking out some websites of authors.  I’ve decided I don’t like them very much.  They have ‘webmasters’ who design things for them and create their site and decide how everything will look.  It’s like having somebody raise your kids for you.  You don’t actually do anything interactive with them…you just claim their parentage; their blood line.  All the work and enjoyment lays on the hired help.  Congrats!  You are a parent of no one.  A master of nothing.  You post a blog and claim to have worked on it.  Uh, no you didn’t.  You just showed up to the party for the refreshments and the accolades.  Fuck off.

Ugh…I’m complaining about nothing important or relevant.

Awesome post, Rogue! Please continue with your mindless chatter about nothing!

Thanks! Okay.

If I was following my Kingly advice, I should be reading something right now.  But I’m not.  I’m rambling instead.  Filling up space.  Killin’ time.  Foolin’ around.  Such a productive use of time.

What’s new?  How’s life?  Read any good books lately?  Seen any good movies?  No?  Me neither…thought I’d ask….

I’ll get back to trying to figure out the football thing and stare at the last chocolate cookie in the box like it was the last morsel of food on earth, at which time I will stuff it angrily into my mouth and throw away the evidence before anyone discovers it’s gone.  You go back to whatever it was that I so rudely interrupted.  Nice chat.  Let’s do this again soon.

Sadly the cookies are gone.  Bring some next time, will ‘ya?  Thanks.