Twenty Thirteen

The beginning of a new year always brings at least one moment of introspection. I figured I might as well embrace it.

So much happened last year.  Part of me wants to sit and dissect the choices I made, the accomplishments I had, and the experiences I was a part of.

Then, there is a much louder part of me that says "let it go".  Last year was last year. While it may have lead me to where I am now, I am here...now. What is important is handling that which is current, alive, present.

Be true to yourself.

“If one advances confidently in the direction of one's dreams, and endeavors to live the life which one has imagined, one will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” 
- Henry David Thoreau

Happy New Year, my friends.

Steak in a bowl...

Mike is making our main dish this evening - aptly named "Steak in a Bowl". This was inspired by a recent trip to California (where we had a friggin blast with Deb and Rich) and saw how much tri-tip those Californians consume. Having heard of the incredible tri-tip my husband has made previously (previously = before we were married apparently), I began to drop not-so-subtle hints about the need for him to make some for us! Lucky for me, we recently found a great cut of meat - and he decided it was time to share this awesomeness. I am so happy! So...we are in the before stages. He has his Weber Kettle started, I made a Black Bean and Corn salad (that I tweaked by adding cherry tomatoes, avocado and cilantro) and we bought a bottle of Broquel Malbec. And now...we wait. Oh! And...it is the True Blood series premiere tonight. Bloody steak and a red wine could be the best pairing for the season opener. What do you think?

save the drama for yo mama!

One of the things I love about work is that it *should* be clean cut. This is professional, it isn't personal. Alas, since work requires people...it also involves...gasp...feelings. GAH. I am an emotional person. I am a Scorpio for crying out loud. But here's the deal - when something needs to get done, let's focus on how to get it done. Let's stop making it about us. Laurie nailed it on the head when she said

I don’t have any science or data to back me up on this but I think drama at work can be abated if we treat one another a little less like brothers and sisters and a little more like colleagues and peers.

Truth. Preach on, sister.

I mean, I am not saying your feelings are unimportant - just don't let them be the driver on this boat....mmmkay?

wow

It has been ages since I have blogged. Not sure if anyone even reads this, but in the insane event they do...thank you for thinking my random rants are worth reading.

So...news in my life:
- My job is crazy busy, but its exciting and I enjoy it.
- We have a new dog, Jaqi.
- I have bitten off more than I can chew in the attempt to get my arse back into trail running shape. How? In two weeks, I will do a 25k trail run...which I am not even remotely ready for. On Thanksgiving, I will do the Turkey Trot 5k. THEN...on Dec 4th I will do the White Rock Half Marathon. I have also registered for a 15k in February, and I am eyeing the Grasslands full trail marathon in March. Yeah...I said it. Trail marathon. Ya know why? Palo Duro 50k is calling my name. By the end of 2012, my goal is to be an official ultra runner. Even if it is more of an ultra joggle.
:)

So anyhoo. I guess I need to start actually posting again. Its good for the soul, and all.

Don't be a jackwagon...

Apparently, people are so oblivious to their obnoxiousness...they continue to ruin the fun for the rest of us. People who litter should have to sit in a room filled with all the crap they threw on the ground in their lives. For at least a week. Maybe more. sigh...

I am sorry, but a company shouldn't have to ask its employees to stop throwing their cigarette butts on the ground in front of a neighboring business. Say it with me people, "Don't be a jackwagon". Pick up after yourselves. Don't litter. Don't mess with Texas. All that. Seriously...unless your mom follows you everywhere happily picking up after you...DO NOT throw your crap on the ground and expect it to miraculously dissolve into the air.

I will get crucified for this, but cheers to the New Braunfels City Council for putting their foot down (on the issue of disposable cans and food containers). Too many idiotic, selfish JACKWAGONS have littered our rivers for far too long. People who "drink and sink" and/or just don't manage their trash well don't deserve to be on the rivers. In fact, I don't know why they are let out of their home to begin with. Rationalizing this behavior is a sign of other issues going on in their head. A sense of entitlement perhaps? Whatever. Quit jacking up the rivers, quit jacking up the earth. For those of you mad about the new law, get a Nalgene bottle and learn how to make Yucca. Don't lose your bottle on the river - maybe get a big camelbak and fill it with something...but don't bring a 30 pack of Natty Lite and toss all your empties in the water. Yeah, aside from me judging you (which I will)...you can get a $500 fine. So don't do it.

Anyways, I feel better now that I got that off my chest. Let's take better care of our planet people...or at the very least, the little piece we inhabit.

Inspiration

I often feel like I should be doing more. More of any number of things. Mainly, playing outside with my friends.
Which includes geocaching, trail running, biking (dirt and paved), swimming, camping, etc etc.

I am following the adventure of our friend, Ray Porter. He is a mountain biker. He is also a certified badass. He is in the middle of the Tour Divide, a 2700 mile bike race from Canada to Mexico along the continental divide route. He just passed the 1000 mile mark.

Words fail...all I can say is, I am inspired!

Who does that?

Who falls in a manhole? Who does that?

Well, to answer that question...I must first paint you a picture.

Imagine, you are back at Camp Clear Fork. Gorgeous weather, a few
mosquitos, and an ice cold beer in your hand (your first of the
evening).
After having a long trip from Texas, you (and by YOU I mean ME...but
follow me on this...) are ready for a relaxing evening with your good
buddies from DORBA.

You sit and chat with your friends for a good while, until you realize
the evil air sharks (AKA mosquitos) are having their way with your
epidermis.
Taking a cue from your incredibly smart, and tall, spouse, you walk
over to an area away from the rest of the folks enjoying their beers
and other sundry camping accoutrements. Your spouse steps off a
manhole cover (why was he on it? Well, it is a slightly raised
platform out of the grass and rocks...and just seems to be a smart
place to stand..right?) and hands you the bug spray.  Without fearing
the impending danger, you step on the manhole cover and proceed to
spray your arms and legs with the anti-air shark concoction.  (side
note: for all of the 5+ years you have been coming to this amazing
camp, you have danced...nay...jumped on this man hole cover with no
issue...none!)

Your left leg needs additional coverage, though! So you gently lift it
to get a better angle. (yoga balance! yeah!) At that moment, the man
hole cover shifts slightly and then sharply flips to allow your entire
right leg to fall straight into the metal tube. Your left leg hits the
other side, and (thanks be to grilled cheese sandwiches!) your ample
booty catches the ground and edge of the manhole to prevent you from
completely ruining any hope for female happiness again. (Ahem, it was
very close)

So, dazed and confused...all you hear from your tall, intelligent
spouse is "What are you doing in there? Get out!" and you gather all
your Jack Bauer senses and pull a seriously awesome 24-inspired move
to roll out of the now big infested hole of darkness you are half
enveloped in.

First injury of Clear Fork = Me...standing still. Yep. I am made of
awesome.  Injury recap: really attractive gash and scrape on the shin
of my left leg (that's gonna leave a mark! you can see it on
Facebook...Mike posted it) and a really, really sexy technicolor
bruise on the outside knee of my right leg, a bruise the size (and
shape?) of Texas on my innermost right thigh (yes...it was close) and
a sore butt. No bruise on that yet. That I can see.

So, next time someone asks you "Who falls in a manhole?", aside from
your first-gut-dirty-mind reaction...you know the answer.

The next installment of "Who does that?" will be hosted by yours
truly, as I recap last night's pasta making adventure and I learn that
mini-shell pasta can in fact become a scalding version of a suction
cup on your finger!

--
Becky