EXCITING NEWS.

I am an aunt!!!! My beautiful niece was born on Tuesday. I found out early Tuesday morning that my sister-in-law was labor. Having a rather busy two days ahead of me, I knew I had to go to the office. But...it was torture. Needless to say, we rushed home from work on Tuesday and went right to the hospital.

She is perfect. Never have I loved something so small so much (well, except for Oxford, of course). Seeing my brother with his child is amazing. He is a natural. The love he has on his face is just...indescribable. My time with my niece was short, and I am counting the hours until I can see her again. (27...)

That is my happiest news for right now. I mean, I can tell you that I ran 10 miles on Saturday without stopping. But really, I just want to gush about BABY. Sorry.

Also, I signed up to run the Chicago Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon. Clearly, I've gone crazy.

This post has no structure and no theme. I'm not sorry for that. I AM A FREAKING AUNT!!!!

Training check-in.

I just couldn't check in with you all about my training yesterday due to the pellet gun incident. Shortly after that, the neighboring building's car alarm started going off. When I looked out the window, the "gentleman" across the alley started hollering at me about that.

"HEY. HEY YOU."

"Um, yeah?"

"THIS IS RIDICULOUS, I AM GOING TO CALL 311."

"Um, okay. Not my car. I don't care."

"IT IS DRIVING US ALL CRAZY."

"OKAY SO CALL, GEEZ. I DON'T CARE."

"NO DISRESPECT, BUT I AM CALLING."

"FINE."

Seriously.

In any event, despite shenanigans in my alley, I have been keeping with my training. I ran my final two miles this morning before work rather anxiously because the next time I run, I'll be putting down ten. TEN FREAKING MILES.

Pray for me, guys. I have trained my tush off. I feel like I should be able to do this. I'm still scared.

This just happened.

Let me preface this with...I LOVE my neighborhood. I love that I can get to work in twenty minutes, even WITH a transfer from a bus to the el. I love the fact that my rent for a two bedroom apartment with parking is super affordable. I my proximity to BYOB restaurants, sports bars, and dive bars. I am very happy where I am.

However...it is not the safest neighborhood. Well, it's fine, but I am in close proximity to neighborhoods with sufficiently higher crime rates. There are pockets of gang activity. The sounds of gun shots aren't foreign to me. The delinquents from the high school that is half a block away smoke weed daily on my porch. I am okay with that.

Tonight, however, I got a little nervous. I heard the repeated sound of a popping from the alley. It being a lovely spring evening, we had our windows down and could hear all of the evening's activity. Oxford, being the rather curious kitty he is, was sitting in the window, watching what was going on. I noticed two teenagers shooting a gun down the alley. Based on the sound, I figured it was a pellet gun, but still, I quickly pulled Oxford out of the window and shut the window. The kids noticed me shutting the window and smirked.

I was so annoyed with the delinquent smirk that I marched back into the living room and said to P.I.C., "I'm calling 311. This is RIDICULOUS."

P.I.C. sensibly retorted, "Do you really want to do that when they JUST SAW YOU?"

Fair point, P.I.C. So I didn't. I walked back to peek on the situation and THERE WERE SIX COPS OUT THERE. For real. The two delinquents? In cuffs. Trying to get out of it.

Awesome. Shit got real right behind my house. I didn't even have to neighborhood watch it. Honestly, I still love my 'hood. I really have been a nosy neighbor my entire life. Now I get to BE the nosy neighbor. But not really. (I have never called the cops.)

P.S. When did cops get so young? These cops were like TWENTY. And cute. All the single laaaaadies? Wanna party in my alley?

One year (and fifteen days).

I had it in my head that I was going to write this beautiful post about my wedding day. I was going to talk about the first year of marriage. No, MY first year of marriage. Then the day came and went. We spent the weekend before having drinks with friends, making fancy meals at home (one of which was a throw-back to our two week honeymoon in Spain.) We spent a rather exorbitant amount of money on an anniversary dinner. (It was worth it.)

Now, fifteen days after the one year mark of us saying, I do, I realized I should put some words down. The emotions should not go unnoticed. I should talk about them. Really, I can only do this in an anecdotal form. It's what I do. But it's not who I am.*

Today was a gorgeous day in Chicago. Just almost 80 degrees, sunny, and just perfect. Sadly, both P.I.C. and I spent it working. Luckily for us, we work jobs where we can leave at reasonable hour. P.I.C. had left a little bit earlier to run an errand. I got it in my head, I am going to stop and buy P.I.C. some beer on my way home. Burgers were on our dinner menu, nothing could be better than beers with that (in addition to a beautiful 80 degree day), right? Brooklyn Summer Ale would be perfect. It would remind us of our first trip together (NYC, of course) and would taste PERFECT. Sadly, the liquor store had no Brooklyn Summer. I settled for Hoegaarden.

I got home, proudly announcing my arrival. "HELLO, HUSBAND. I HAVE GIFTS FOR YOU THAT WILL GO WITH OUR BURGERS."

He comes out, smiling, kind of chuckling. I whip out the beer from my bag. "TAAADAAAAA. Beer."

He started full out laughing and then opened the fridge. Apparently, he'd had the same idea. Of course, his version was more hipstery and in a can (Bombshell Blonde something-or-other.)

YOU GUYS. This is why you marry someone. You have the SAME good ideas. We toasted to our similar intelligence with our beers as we relaxed on our porch with a lovely view of the dumpster and alley. Cheers to having someone who will appreciate a beer on a nice day.

On a more sentimental note, I could go on for days about stories of how I know that I married the perfect man for me. But really, you all would rather hear of my shenanigans about beers and us laughing at each other, wouldn't you?

To my P.I.C., my partner-in-crime, thank you. You make each day fun and have helped created an adventure of a life for us. Thank you for encouraging me to be...me.

*If you get this quote, I will thusly designate you blog reader of the month. YOU, officially, are cool enough to hang with me. FOR THE RECORD, f*@k you, spell check. THUSLY IS A WORD.

Running Recap.

You like how I changed up the title? I sure do.

So, did I tell you how my prize for running the Shamrock Shuffle was to buy myself a fancy new pair of running shoes? Well, I did. Turns out, since March 28, I have put 66.9 miles on these new shoes since. That's a lot right? To put it in perspective, my last pair of running shoes, purchased in fall of 2009, just hit 330 miles in March of 2012. So yeah, I've been running a lot more.

I'm also learning that running can cause certain...stomach problems. An extensive google search has assured me that I am not alone in this issue, despite being horribly embarrassed about it. (HEY. Let's tell everyone about it in the blog. That's discreet.) Furthermore, those stomach issues allow me to reach personal record paces in running home. Heh. I'm working on it. I would appreciate any tried and true tips from more experienced runners though. Cutting back on dairy and fibrous food items seems to be my first attempt to calm things down.

This weekend? I run far. Seven miles. I might die. If I do, remember me as that girl that once ran FIFTEEN MILES IN ONE WEEK.

I probably won't die. I probably will be reduced to tears by the end. But I will do it. Standby.

Life's too short to not eat bacon on a Tuesday.

I had a spectacularly shitty Monday. (YES, I HAD A CASE OF THE MONDAYS COMPOUNDED WITH ANNOYING THINGS HAPPENING ALL DAY LONG.) This morning, P.I.C. and I got up early to run. When we got home, I decided to make some bacon with our eggs. Why not, right? Life's too short to not eat the bacon in your fridge when it sounds good.

I started thinking, though. What are some other things that I have determined to just do because life is too short?
1. Well, see above. Bacon. Obviously.
2. Spend time with friends that love you as much as you love them.
3. Eat at good restaurants. Pay entirely too much to do so.
4. Make a plan and pay off the credit cards you used to eat at good restaurants. (Life's too short to be burdened by debt.) Same with the student loans.
5. Start a blog. Complain about things. Start to do things about them. Life's too short to complain without taking action.
6. Wear pretty underwear. Dress nicely. Wear skirts. Have fun jewelry. Do my hair. (Well, sometimes.)
7. Send cards. I love receiving cards. Why not spread that love elsewhere? Birthday cards, I love you cards, thinking of you cards...just because cards...snail mail is my favorite.
8. Take photographs. I love looking through my old pictures and remembering good times past. Photographs help.
9. Take care of myself. Be the best I can be. This means I need to exercise. In order to exercise, I need to have a goal. Therefore, I run. Am I a runner yet? Who knows. I do know I feel pretty awesome these days.
10.Tell your friends and family you love them often.
11. Daily hair washing is not REALLY that important. Seriously. I might do my hair, but it doesn't mean I have to wash it. Life's WAY too short for that.

I know these things are different for everyone. Some people might say, "Life's too short to spend it on a treadmill." Good for you. Prioritizing these things are definitely a way to bring yourself to your happiest. I love bacon. I (sometimes) like running. I love not washing my hair. I am at my happiest. Fact.

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

Training. Ugh.

Some days are great like before work last week when I ran four miles at a pace that rivaled my best 5K without feeling like death. Some days are not so great. Two days after that fantastic four mile jaunt, I did three miles at a snail's pace, feeling pretty crappy. Some days are brutal.

Saturday morning, P.I.C. and I were up for six miles. This is the farthest I have ever run. Rather than trace a path through our 'hood, we elected to drive a bit east and run on the lakefront. Unfortunately, the weather was not cooperating. It was about 45 degrees. It was spitting out rain. It was just plain nasty. BUT NO WORRIES. We were going to run it.

We started out fine, but then got caught up in a ten mile race. We ran three, then turned around and ran back to where we had parked the car. We were IN the race, running with people at a pace that would have caused me pain for half my distance. (My strategy is to try to improve my speed on my shorter runs and basically not DIE on the longer distances.) We got out of the race and were on our final 1.25 miles. The wind was blowing directly into our bodies. I felt like I was putting one foot in front of the other and getting nowhere. I felt like I was going to puke. I nearly was hyperventilating. I started gasping for air, nearly crying out in frustration. WHY OH WHY did I think I could train for and run ten miles? I AM A TERRIBLE RUNNER. THIS IS THE WORST IDEA I EVER HAD.

P.I.C. calmly told me that we were almost done, that I could do it. So I sucked it up. It was hard. I felt terrible. It was slow. I am now terrified that I will never get past this point. But I logged the damn miles. That's what it's all about, right? Thank goodness this week is a shorter week. If I had to go out and do seven on Saturday, I don't know what I would do. Well, I'd run it. I would probably cry. I would probably hate it, but I'd do it.

Besides, we really know I'm in this for the fatty brunch afterwards, right? RIGHT?