Hoo-rag ear warmer and another one of  my crazy ideas. It seems I've been a bit MIA lately. As much as I wish my silence were imbued with the confidence of scheming to take over the world ...mmwhahahaha!... um... it's not. Not even close. Sadly, I've been dealing with emotional withdrawal and some pretty heavy personal stuff which I hope I have the guts to write about on here someday. On top of that, my active blogging agenda has been temporarily hijacked by accounting for our small business - the boring year end taxes, 1099s, balancing, and software updates. Not much to be inspired by. Oh well. At least I got a few good runs in. One of those was all about the fiyah and the other was all about the beer. Well... OK. So technically they were both about the fiyah so things are looking up in that department. (BTW- if you're wondering what I'm holding in my hand in that pic to the right I'll reveal it at the end of this post.) Now, do you remember me mentio...

The perfect snot factory hat! To say the holidays sucked would be an understatement. I was down for the count for six whole days starting the friday before Christmas. A relentless fever, splitting headache, piercing cough and a whole bagful of personal emotional shit that I' m not prepared to go into detail about.  I was registered to run an ultra Fat Ass the weekend after New Years so I did. And I didn't. I only ran 15 miles of it because, well, it sucked too. Literally. In more ways than one. I wasn't fully recovered from the plague" (as some of my facebook buds are calling it) and most of the trail was a muddy mess either by the mud itself or by my snot rocket factory. I was glad Alex, my running partner, tolerated my incessantly emptying my sinus cavity every ten feet. So... ridiculous mud again. WTF? I have a knack for picking the muddiest runs over the last couple months. I guess that's what I get for not actually registering for the Merrell Down and...

"Reading" I'm definitely not your typical mommy blogger.  I don't wax g ushingly about how blessed my life is or how perfect my children are (most days I want to contact their creator's customer service number and ask if I can return them.) I don't provide daily inspiration for you to get off your ass and do something amazing. Hell, I don't really give a shit if you wanna sit in front of the TV watching endless episodes of The Bachelor while eating bags of chemically altered orange powdered tortilla chips. I don't sew or knit vomitously (I know. Not a word. It is now.) cute little Christmas dolls. Well... actually I'm a damn good seamstress... I just don't brag about it. Ha! And I don't provide you with those perfect little party food ideas - although I'll show you how to sneak a cocktail or two into your race day water bottle. *wink* Nope. I prefer to be a little more... me. Which can be unkempt and disorganized, irreverently s...