So It Goes

Scroll to Info & Navigation

So this is happening tonight.  Elvis Costello was scheduled to play Durham last September but, due to his father’s declining health1, he had to scrap the back half of his U.S. Tour.  Now he and his Spinning Songbook are back and, again2, I’m dangerously close to the stage.  If any of you see a grainy video lately of someone forcing herself on Mister MacManus, it wasn’t me, swear.  P.S. Because I’m trying to overdose on Englishmen and Power Pop this week, I’m seeing Nick Lowe in Raleigh on Wednesday.  I also have an extra (ORCH Row B) ticket for sale.  If you’re interested, drop me a note.  1 In the heartbreaker of the day, Ross MacManus passed away in November.   2 We caught him from the second row in Asheville last summer and it was amazeballs.

So this is happening tonight.  Elvis Costello was scheduled to play Durham last September but, due to his father’s declining health1, he had to scrap the back half of his U.S. Tour.  Now he and his Spinning Songbook are back and, again2, I’m dangerously close to the stage. 

If any of you see a grainy video lately of someone forcing herself on Mister MacManus, it wasn’t me, swear. 

P.S. Because I’m trying to overdose on Englishmen and Power Pop this week, I’m seeing Nick Lowe in Raleigh on Wednesday.  I also have an extra (ORCH Row B) ticket for sale.  If you’re interested, drop me a note. 

1 In the heartbreaker of the day, Ross MacManus passed away in November.  

2 We caught him from the second row in Asheville last summer and it was amazeballs.

I’m in! I’m in! I’m running the Nike Women’s Marathon and I’ll be in San Francisco in October and a dreeeeamy fireman will give me a Tiffany necklace1 and then I’ll be spirited away on the back of a unicorn whose face looks like Hugh Laurie! 2 1 That part is real. 2 That part is TBD.

I’m in! I’m in! I’m running the Nike Women’s Marathon and I’ll be in San Francisco in October and a dreeeeamy fireman will give me a Tiffany necklace1 and then I’ll be spirited away on the back of a unicorn whose face looks like Hugh Laurie! 2

1 That part is real.

2 That part is TBD.

4:12 p.m. 4.00 miles // 31:32 7’52” pace Hills, ugh.  So last week Nike had some of their Tempo track shorts on sale for $17 and change, mainly because they were in weirdo sizes1 and color combinations that tend to induce seizures, but I thought it was a great time to replace some of my gear that had a Febreeze-resistant permafunk (Runners are DELIGHTFUL to live with). They were UPS-ed here this morning, so I broke out a new pair for this run, the ones with obnoxious yellow splotches that make it look like I’m bleeding Cheez-Whiz.2 In what seems to be an odd design choice for running shorts—and for a running company—Nike has removed the inner key pocket from that style.  On the plus side, I won’t have any awkward elevator exchanges when a stranger from the 4th floor catches me with both hands in my shorts, nonchalantly removing one to press “Door Close” before reaching back toward the inner seam of my waistband.  (“I hide my key in here,” I said the last time this happened.  In retrospect, that’s probably creepier than saying nothing.) But on the downside, there’s no place to stash a key, not without doing something unsanitary. I shrugged, pulled the price tag off and thought I’d solved the problem.  My rebellious right hip has started to grumble and protest my increased mileage, so I’ve been wearing some super sexxxay compression shorts as a baselayer, and they do have an inside pocket3, so I stashed my key and went out for four hill-acious miles.  __________ After the run I chugged a mini-Quick chocolate milk, got in the shower and immediately felt a searing, burning pain in my navel, which is not a sentence that anyone should ever have to write. I rinsed some Hello Kitty shower gel off my torso and noticed that I was BLEEDING PROFUSELY through my bellybutton.  My first thought? “GROSS!” My second? Profanity.  Lots of profanity.  My chafed stomach-hole was a parting gift courtesy of that freaking house key, because my compression shorts are so tight, I spent four miles inadvertently trying to unlock my abdomen. So yes, to answer the question you didn’t know you were asking, I do consider it “fun” to participate in a sport that makes me bleed in places that shouldn’t be bleeding.  Just Do It, I guess. 1 Like a child’s XL. Thanks, scrawny Q-tip legs. 2 Based on the amount of gas station food that I eat, this is entirely possible. 3 It’s also large enough to hold an Oreo Cakester, assuming you don’t mind the tasty delicious unsightly bulge in your hip crease.

4:12 p.m.
4.00 miles // 31:32
7’52” pace

Hills, ugh. 

So last week Nike had some of their Tempo track shorts on sale for $17 and change, mainly because they were in weirdo sizes1 and color combinations that tend to induce seizures, but I thought it was a great time to replace some of my gear that had a Febreeze-resistant permafunk (Runners are DELIGHTFUL to live with). They were UPS-ed here this morning, so I broke out a new pair for this run, the ones with obnoxious yellow splotches that make it look like I’m bleeding Cheez-Whiz.2

In what seems to be an odd design choice for running shorts—and for a running company—Nike has removed the inner key pocket from that style.  On the plus side, I won’t have any awkward elevator exchanges when a stranger from the 4th floor catches me with both hands in my shorts, nonchalantly removing one to press “Door Close” before reaching back toward the inner seam of my waistband.  (“I hide my key in here,” I said the last time this happened.  In retrospect, that’s probably creepier than saying nothing.) But on the downside, there’s no place to stash a key, not without doing something unsanitary.

I shrugged, pulled the price tag off and thought I’d solved the problem.  My rebellious right hip has started to grumble and protest my increased mileage, so I’ve been wearing some super sexxxay compression shorts as a baselayer, and they do have an inside pocket3, so I stashed my key and went out for four hill-acious miles. 

__________

After the run I chugged a mini-Quick chocolate milk, got in the shower and immediately felt a searing, burning pain in my navel, which is not a sentence that anyone should ever have to write. I rinsed some Hello Kitty shower gel off my torso and noticed that I was BLEEDING PROFUSELY through my bellybutton. 

My first thought? “GROSS!” My second? Profanity.  Lots of profanity. 

My chafed stomach-hole was a parting gift courtesy of that freaking house key, because my compression shorts are so tight, I spent four miles inadvertently trying to unlock my abdomen. So yes, to answer the question you didn’t know you were asking, I do consider it “fun” to participate in a sport that makes me bleed in places that shouldn’t be bleeding. 

Just Do It, I guess.

1 Like a child’s XL. Thanks, scrawny Q-tip legs.

2 Based on the amount of gas station food that I eat, this is entirely possible.

3 It’s also large enough to hold an Oreo Cakester, assuming you don’t mind the tasty delicious unsightly bulge in your hip crease.