Yesterday, Steve and I went to a 49ers game. It’s not that I dislike football or that I don’t understand it, it’s just that I think it’s a little overwrought.

During the first half, our neighbors got my commentary, which included “Delay of game is a pretty rich call in football” and “That was a stupid kick” and “No, I don’t think the cheerleaders are upset because they aren’t wearing warmer clothes. I think they’re upset because they make less than minimum wage.”

During the second half, my commentary got a lot darker and I don’t think our section appreciated hearing about how football is exploitative of the players and the working class. All the money and industry and infrastructure takes advantage largely of people from lower economic classes. (Just like the lottery.) Sure, they choose to play and maybe they love to play, maybe not. But, in light of new research about concussions and the extreme likelihood that even a player who never has a “major” injury will end up with pretty severe brain damage, don’t you think the owners have the far better deal?

Why I Think I Might Sort of Be Done with Triathlon for a Little Bit

I was going to call this post “F*&% You All, Your Lives Are Not That Cool,” but I’ve been informed I’m “negative” and “intense” online, so instead we’ll go with this.

Last weekend my phone committed suicide on Friday afternoon after trying to upgrade its Enterprise server via the directions from work. I swear I followed the directions, but it wouldn’t even let me make a call without freezing. I got it back to phone-call-making capabilities by wiping it clean, but had no contacts and no internets. And, no possibility of a new phone until Monday. So, I ended up spending my weekend going to the high school cross-country regional/sectional/whatever championships, riding Tamarancho with some friends (terrifying mountain biking, by the way, just completely maybe-I’ll-throw-up-I’m-so-scared kind of terrifying), spending more time at the brewery than the ride took – even with me walking my bike a significant amount, and then racing the cross-country Pacific Association championships where I fell twice in the mud and slid and placed 94th or something — all WITHOUT INTERNET ON MY PHONE.

This was mind-boggling in its absurdity going into the weekend. A whole weekend, full of stuff, without email or twitter or facebook??

But, by the end of the weekend, when I sat down at my computer I felt better and more fun than I had in awhile. And not because of the negative influence of technology or all that shit people are always going on about. But, simply because I hadn’t been inundated with the forced positivity of the internet all weekend. I hadn’t felt compelled to see how everyone was doing at IM Arizona or how wonderful a time they were all having. And I didn’t care.

It may be just triathlon, but I don’t think it is. There is a need, particularly online, to always be soooo excited about riding my bike and sooo grateful for my friends and my life is just so amazing and so wonderful and so filled with positivity all the time — by inference it is so much better than yours.

Maybe other people don’t feel this way – obviously, they don’t. But, for me, this kind of relentless cheeriness eats away at my confidence day after day after day. If I’m not as completely totally all the time happy as everyone on my twitter feed or as amazed at the wonder that is the sun as all my facebook friends, something must be wrong with me, right?

No one online (or largely, in popular society) ever seems to have any problems that can’t be overcome by just looking at them with the right attitude. Or, at least they don’t admit it.

I’m well aware of the documented positive effects of being positive, but there’s a decent amount of writing on the negative impacts its having not just on society, but on us individually. Implying, or stating outright, that you just need to be relentlessly positive to overcome even the direst of problems is only two steps away from arguing that people who succumb to illness just aren’t fighters and those that remain impoverished do so because they just don’t want it enough.

And on a personal level, we are undermining our long-term mental strength and capability to solve problems by refusing to acknowledge them. It’s not that I’m negative or unhappy or down on my life; it’s just that sometimes I am. And, I’m betting you are sometimes too.

Which brings us to the draft title for this post and back to last weekend. For a whole weekend, I didn’t read about everyone’s super amazing days and how every chance is a dream and what a blessing this race was. And, I felt better than usual I think, because my weekend, which along with lots of fun also included a little bit of dry-heaving on my terrifying mountain bike and little bit of crying in the rainy cold at my XC race and plenty of doing nothing interesting at all, seemed just fine.

All of that isn’t the only reason why I don’t really think I want to do triathlon a ton next year, but it’s certainly related. It’s become the athletic embodiment of an attitude I just don’t know that I can deal with. (I’m also tired and really busy and sick of competing against girls who have so many more hours to train than I do and just not super excited about doing the circuit again. Mostly, I’m just not feeling it.)

I’m sure I’ll still do TriCal’s Alcatraz because I love that race and I’ve been thinking about other stuff, like ultras and Xterra – if I ever get up the courage to get back on my mountain bike. But, mostly I think I might just stick with running, of the non-Oprah variety, which has a whole different kind of attitude that includes kegs at the finish line, $20 entry fees, usually no med tent, and a lot of sarcasm.

So, yes, there was a wedding

Here’s some pretty pictures from the wedding – cause obviously, that was the whole point.

And, yes, we did exchange ‘bling.’ And, no, it wasn’t Steve’s idea – it was mine and it was brilliant.

I don’t like wedding cake, so there was a brownie sundae bar. Which, I hear, was good. I couldn’t figure out why I didn’t really want any, but then I realized I had had like five 16-ounce pint glasses of margarita.

And, a pinata.

And dancing.

And there was more dancing, which resulted in the best picture of the night after Steve changed clothes and was wearing a headband, but apparently, he didn’t put that one on the facebook.

It was good times and fun and everything people told me wouldn’t work out beforehand did work out.

But, honestly, the whole thing made me feel more alone. Because, I can not be the only female on the planet who doesn’t enjoy the ‘ooooohhhh, are you like SOOOO excited’ and ‘just remember, it’s your special day’ and ‘you must be sooooo stressed out. well, just remember, there’s nothing you can do on that day, so whatever happens, I’m sure it’ll be MAGICAL’

OH MY GOD, are you so excited? Are you ready? I’m sure everything will come together. Don’t stress about it; you must be so stressed. Whatever happens, it’ll be a magical day, I’m sure it’ll all come together. You must be so excited. Do have enough cups? Where is everyone going to sit? It’ll be soooo nice. Don’t forget, it’s all about you guys. What should I wear? Do you think this dress is ok? What about this one? What are other people wearing? Ohhh, are you like soo stressed out? How do you feeeeeel?

Even just writing these sentences is making me make an angry face at my computer and want to go punch somebody.

So, the closer and closer we got to the wedding, the more and more I felt like a totally separate and unique species standing on an island by myself.

It’s not like I’ve never lived with girls and can’t participate in some good girl talk. I lived with four girls and we watched Sex and the City and facebook stalked boys and sat in the bathroom gossiping while one of us did her hair. And, it was all perfectly fun, but in an fun-ironic kind of way — no one takes Cosmo seriously or actually thinks Carrie is a role model. Right.

Right? Right???

Steve thought I was exaggerating, but I was with him a couple of times the subject of the wedding came up and this is what guys said to him, with no further questions and no weird baby voices:

– Really? That’s great, congratulations man.

– Oh, cool, when is it?

– Ho, did she break your leg. Guess you can’t get away now, huh, huh. Guess you can’t escape with a broken leg. Hah.

OK, that last one was also annoying. But, not one person went ‘oooooohhhhh, are you like sooooooo excited.’

And, the more this came up (people were actually banned from asking me questions at one point), the more it was like ‘oh, Kelly’s just so crazy, she just hates people.’ Which brings us back to the original point: I am apparently inhabiting a universe entirely by myself.

It’s like this one time I was wearing an empire-waist white blouse at this party and this middle-aged woman came up to me and rubbed my stomach and said, “Ohhh, when are you due?” And then she promptly realized she was a moron and started apologizing.

But, the thing is she thought I was mad because she was calling me fat or something, but that wasn’t why I was mad because 1. I’m not fat and 2. in the universe I inhabit – and of which I am becoming increasingly concerned I am the only inhabitant – it is NOT ok to rub a total stranger’s stomach under any circumstances unless maybe you’re performing CPR or something and even then, let’s not be creepy.

And, everyone I tell this story to thinks it’s funny. But, NO ONE thinks it’s appalling.


Speaking Truth

Steve told me that he had been having a Kelly-esque reaction to people telling him he should be grateful for his injury not being worse.

I said I thought he should tell them they should be even more grateful then for not having an accident in the first place. That basically you should just always then go around always feeling grateful nothing worse than what is currently happening has yet happened – but when it does you should just be happy it wasn’t worse. Basically, the only way you could only ever know that things were better than they could have been, anyway, was if somehow – through the power of time travel – you found out that if you had gotten on that plane, for example, you would have contracted a deathly case of smallpox and died, but you didn’t because you fell and broke both legs and arms, therefore you should be grateful.

So, it’s a stupid thing to say.

Steve said, yeah, that’s a Kelly-ism reaction to people saying that.

Yeah, I said, cause it’s true.

Kelly-ism = speaking truth.


Headed to Tahoe Soon

We were watching old episodes of Glee yesterday and the incredibly annoying, patronizing episode went on and on about loving yourself and one girl – who supposedly was not hot – v. another girl – who was supposedly hot. Except like it’s TV, so everyone is relatively hot.

It’s really annoying when we all pretend one person in TV or a movie is super hot and one isn’t, but really you’re never going to look like either of them.

The episode was also super annoying because in order to love yourself evidently you have to acknowledge something about yourself that you hate. Don’t hate yourself? You’re obviously lying, you not-hot wierdo.

Raced the Tiburon Triathlon this morning: super short, super fast.

I swam hard, hard and tried to stay with the front guys. But, since I’m not that fast, I never bothered to find out what the course was. I’ll just follow everyone in front of me. No problem, except the really fast guys dropped us hard and then it was me and two other guys leading everyone else. We swam into a bunch of boats and all started looking around, no buoys, no nothing, no idea. “Where did you lead us?” I said the to guy and he was like “I dunno.”

Obviously, we made it out.

Biked hard — thought it was definitely faster and harder than the other time I did this race, but it wasn’t.

Tried to run hard, wanted to run 6:00 miles and I was close but then I started to throw up. Not just a little either, which I can deal with, but like full on about to double over and just start hurling everywhere. So, I slowed down and this 14-year-old went past me. And I ran like 6:07 miles instead.

Slower than before, but ok. Hard. And nine guys beat me.

This is not a videoblog

Steve wanted to videoblog my rambling rant with hand gestures earlier, but I broke our video camera like 6 months ago and the one I have for work is, eh, shit and anyway I’m really good talking on camera unless Steve is there, because then I just think he’s being all judgemental.

So, instead bullet points.

  • YOU in no way contributed to the revolution in Egypt. Or Tunisia. Or anywhere. You have nothing to do with this. You are not a part of history. History is not unfolding in front of your eyes. In fact, you’re not even watching history. Or, rather you are, but only (not to totally parody the History Channel’s motto but) because history happens every day. All YOU are doing is watching people gather in a square on your TV far away.
  • And your comments on facebook and twitter and whatever do nothing to add to the event, you are merely attempting to insert yourself in someone else’s moment. It’s like rubbernecking on the highway.
  • In some ways the comments are exceptionally patronizing too: ohhhhh, goooood for the Egyptian people, they got themselves democracy. Aww. Let’s hope they do something gooood with it. Don’t you go spending all that in one place now.
  • Because, let’s not kid ourselves, if it had taken longer than 18 days, we’d have stopped caring. We’d be out of this news cycle.
  • You know what else happened? Southern Sudan became a new country. By actual vote. You know what else didn’t happen? Iran’s revolution last year, which was way more brutal and way more deserved. But, there weren’t so many TV cameras there. So, evidently, we only care about some of the people in that region.
  • Because, again, if we’re not just trying to revel in our political right or wrongness in public forums so we can make condescending statements about events we have nothing to do with, we would acknowledge the role the military has played in this overthrowing of power. There is a reason he didn’t step down and then he did and it’s not because the protestors chanted louder. The military saw a power vacuum into which it has stepped. And maybe they’re simply positioning themselves to be the forerunners in any elections that occur, maybe not, but don’t kid yourself that 18 days of (relative) non-violence ended a 30-year regime.

I wish I had said this, but I didn’t: “Anyone else thinking it’s inevitable that the Egyptian flag headband is coming to a hipster near you?”

My Health

You don’t want to know about how busy and shitty this week has been — it’s not interesting, or rather the only part that was interesting was the part where I was yelled at for hating the Constitution, but that wasn’t even the shitty part. Just suffice it to say that other people cried; this week was rough.

The only point of that uninteresting story was that I had a couple really good blog posts in my head, but I have carpal tunnel again, a lack of focus and time, and overall exhaustion, so what is left is semi-mediocre blog posts.

Last week, I joined the company’s health initiative. Signing up saves you like $20/month on your insurance premium and I figured I wouldn’t have to do anything — that’s one advantage of being “active.” But, the problem is these things aren’t really intended for the actually athletic. They kept trying to encourage me to take the stairs, walk at least 20,000 steps a day, park farther from the door.

Uh, no.

I have no intention of taking the stairs or walking any farther than absolutely necessary. I intend to sit on my ass and watch TV as much as possible.

Then, this survey needed to tell me to focus on something to improve, so it became obsessed with my alcohol intake.

I had checked the 2-5 drinks per week box. That seemed reasonable; you go out for a drink with friends a couple times and maybe once a month or so you end up drinking a few beers, doing carbombs because it’s someone’s birthday, drinking some more beers and then challenging the ex-Minor League pitcher to a 5K, because by god you’re going to win at something and it is clearly not going to be ping-pong. Not that that happened like a week ago.

So, this health survey became obsessed with whether or not I was going to decrease my alcohol intake.

You should limit your alcohol intake to 0-1 drinks per day.

Apparently, math is not something we’re concerned about improving in our employees (though, on a related note to the first paragraph — it is certainly something they could use).

So, I intend to increase my alcohol intake to 7 drinks/week — per my health survey instructions.

Do you intend to lose weight? No.

Do you intend to decrease your blood pressure? No.

Do you intend to increase your amount of exercise? Not really.

Do you intend to decrease your alcohol intake? Definitely not now.

Thank you for participating, please come back and review your MyHealth Survey at anytime.