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We’re the Cougars, obvi.

Dad: Where are you off to?

Me: Dinner with the ladies.

Dad: Which ladies?

Me: The ladies. CoSi and FunSized.

Dad: Oh. Those ladies. You have a lot of ladies.

Me: I don’t even. You know CoSi and FunSized. I’ve known them so long.

Dad: Yes, but that doesn’t mean I knew which ladies you were talking about.

Me: The ladies. The high school ladies. The CC ladies. The cougar ladies.

Sign outside of CoSi, FunSized, and my old high school.

Sign outside of CoSi, FunSized’s, and my old high school.

Dad: …

Me: That’s excellent. It’s going to be so great when we’re old because we’ll go out to dinner and I’ll be like. I’m going to dinner with the cougars.

Dad: That’s a good thing?

Me: It’s so multi-dimensional! High school mascot meets geriatric old women who talk about inappropriate topics in Panera Bread.

Dad: That’s a good thing?

Me: It’s an amazing thing.

Dad: I don’t think you’ll think it’s as funny in twenty years.

Me: I’ll tweet it because it’s that level of amazing and I won’t want to forget it. I have to go now because I’m late for dinner with the cougars.

Dad: I thought you weren’t going to use it until you were old.

Me: Practice.

Dad: Roar.


Run, L.A., Run! (Possibly walk at a brisk pace, L.A., walk at a brisk pace!)

*Update at the bottom*

The other day, I was over at CoSi and BoBo’s house for our I want it to be a weekly tradition type thing game night. It was a bunch of people catching up from high school, including, but not limited to, the afore mentioned Cosi and Bobo, FunSized, Arrington (and significant other), and HSM.

I don’t know what “high school reunion” means to you, but to me, it means that game night turns pretty quickly to high school story telling random conversation of everything we haven’t talked about in the past x amount of months catch up time.

train of thought

So, we’re the midst of the whole catching up, and somehow, the topic of Arrington and his constant running comes up. He ran like…track, and cross country, and those other running things…the ones where you run just to run.

Basically, this is how I see our trains of thought regarding the "fun" and "usefulness" of running.

Basically, this is how I see our trains of thought regarding the “fun” and “usefulness” of running.

Arrington is telling us about the next marathon he’s going to be running in, since he runs them all the time, since he’s capable, and doesn’t weeze and die while running like I do.

That’s when I’m thrown for a loop. “I’m going to run a 5k!” FunSized announces. “I’m training for it.”

“You should totally do it!” Arrington tells her.

“What’s that one that everyone is doing?” I ask. “The Color run?” I think to the pictures of people doused in various colors while running. Besides the running, it looks pretty exciting. “I added that to my bucket list.”

“That looks fun!” FunSized says. “Let’s do it!”

“Let’s all do it!” CoSi says.

“We can do the one in Lansing!” Arrington says. “We can even tail gate too, and cross two things off your bucket list”

It sounds exciting and fun and all sorts of friends that I love more than life itself, but it isn’t until later that I start to think more about it.

Conversations w Dad

I’m not a good runner. I remember being in high school, having to run three miles, and being completely winded.

Random conversation from a high school run.

Teammate: So, Boyfriend got me flowers to apologize for being a jerk.

Me: *Silence*

Teammate: I know you don’t like him.

Me: *Silence*

Teammate: L.A.! Seriously?!

Me: *wheeze* Yeah, flowers. *(inner monologue) if I say more words, I won’t be able to hate anyone because I’ll be lying dead on the street in downtown Grand Rapids.*

I ended up talking to VS about this running thing later, because while I did soccer in high school, she did track. She runs. She knows what’s up. Both with the running, and with me being a terrible runner.

Chat with Jade

So, VS sent me this link called like “Running for Dumbasses,” and I downloaded an app on the recommendation of FunSized which allows to walk (live) and run (die) in increments of pain and anguish. And hopefully between the two of those, I’ll manage to make it successfully through a 5k.

Have you ever done one of these marathon things? What do you do to prepare? Slash, how do you feel about following me with a rickshaw for when I get tired??

Tweet me or comment with any advice or words of encouragement. After all, if I die, whose blog will you read??

A big fat thank you and snuggle to everyone who’s been encouraging about this whole running thing. I downloaded that App (Couch to 5k, for those who has asked) at FunSized’s suggestion, and have learned that 60 seconds is really, really, really long when you’re running and that 90 seconds is incredibly short when you know you have to run some more at the end of it. But the whole point, I suppose, is that I’m running? Right?

Let me know if you’re signing up for the color run — I want to know what other people are doing for this training thing. Also, I saw pictures of people running in tutus. I’d like a tutu. Or a crown. Or a horse drawn carriage. Whichever.

Let's get colorful.

Let’s get colorful.


I’m not doing everyday with the running. But I’m doing more.  Last week Sunday:

And then again this Sunday: 3.09 miles. It hurts so good.*

*Not really. It hurts so bad. But I’m sure it’ll be great when I’m all multi-colored**.

**I’m still lying. I’m still think I might die a multi-colored death.

Related articles

He asked, I said…

There is a question that is hands down the most important question a girl will be asked in her life.

I hate you all right now, because I know you’re all thinking that I’m engaged. Come on, readers. If you’ve read any of my past tales, you know that my last few semblances of relationships have all crashed and burned in some kind of spectacular fashion.

Boom, baby, boom.

No, no. I am talking about that great rite of passage…Prom.

I was never asked to prom. My junior year, I started dating Ex. This was in April, a month before his senior prom, and he had asked someone the week before. Terrible timing.

I ended up asking this random guy I knew from the Relient K Air Conditioning and Fan Club (Yes, that existed).

At prom, junior year. We are walking into the ballroom where the dance is happening after dinner.

L.A.’s Date: So, I probably should have mentioned this…I get panic attacks in large groups of people.

L.A. (rather rudely and incredulously): You mean like at dances?

High School Prom, 2004. I actually started the evening wearing a white fedora and elbow length white gloves. BAMF.

Senior year, I was still dating Ex, so obviously. I just took him. Since he was a year older, and thus out of high school at this point, he didn’t ask me to prom. It was just assumed we would go together. On the plus side, I looked much better at this dance, and did not have braces.

Obviously, I made better decisions about life this year.

Thus, I have never been asked to prom. Wait, that’s wrong.

Fast Forward.

It’s 2012. I’m 25. I graduated high school 7 years ago. I still get carded at bars, but I figure it’s because I don’t look 21, not because I do look 17.

A kid comes into my office. He tells me that he’s almost done with school. That’s so exciting. I ask all the questions about where is going to go next year, what does he want to major in, etc, when he corrects me.

He’s almost done with his junior year. Then he’s a senior. Then he’s in college. I missed that step that he has to finish high school before he goes to college. You know what other step I missed? Prom.

“Aw,” I say. “When’s prom?”

“Saturday,” he tells me.

“Who are you going with?” I ask. I feel like my mother.

“No one actually,” he replies. “Just by myself. Got some friends going.”

“That’s cute,” I say.

“Yeah,” he sighs. ” There aren’t a lot of cool girls at my school. What are you doing Saturday?”

I laugh. “Not going to prom, unfortunately.”

“Oh.” There’s a pause. “Do you want to?”

Same week. Different time. I’m in a different colored pair of scrubs.

“So, I heard you say you’re almost done with school,” I tell a kid as he is leaving. “Senior year next year, huh?”

He nods. “I’ll be so glad to get out of there.”

“I think everyone feels that way towards the end. Don’t worry. Someday, you’ll miss it.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t want to go to graduation next year.”

I’m in shock. “These are landmarks of your life right now! You have to go to your graduation! The all night party! Prom!”

“Did you want to go?” He asks me.

“Absolutely!” I’ve entered story telling mode. “Graduation was so much fun, and THE CHURCH CAUGHT FIRE!”

“Oh,” he says. “I meant prom. Did you want to go to prom?”

“I went to prom twice,” I tell him. “Senior year partly to make up how terribly I looked junior year.”

“No,” he corrects himself. He’s purple. “I meant did you want to go to prom now.”

I’m silent. “I don’t think they let 25 year olds into prom.” I finally say. “Maybe I’ll chaperone when my kid is in high school and embarrass him.”

Well, there you go. I’ve finally been asked to prom. Twice.

It’s only 7 years late.

One Post More!

By now, I expect you’ve read all about our Cultural Hotch Day outing to see Les Miserables, which Poof so eloquently wrote about. However, I do feel I need to defend myself. For the crying and such.

I’m sorry. But I LOVE THEATER. Actually, I’m not really sorry. Because seriously. LOVE.

If you do too, I hope you’ll comment about how awesome theater is. Tell me your favorite show, so I can have support to drag Poof to another one. Maybe Wicked, because it’s awesome and she’s never seen it, and OMFG, Idina Menzel.


Seeing Les Miz was actually Poof’s idea. She called me and mentioned it was going to be here, and was all “I think it’d be fun to go to.”


To illustrate:

Poof: Left. L.A.: Right

Let me explain my love of Les Miz:

  1.  Do you know who once starred as both Eponine and Fantine on Broadway? Lea Salonga.

    Lea Salonga as Eponine

    She was the singing voice of Princess Jasmine too, and Mulan. And she’s Filipino. And was my idol from the ages of five to at least thirteen. I love her.

  2. Guess what my senior musical was in high school? That’s right. Les Miz.
    Spring Musical 2005: Les Miserables

    L.A. & Co as lovely ladies. When they sang this song, I leaned over to Poof and whispered, “I was a whore too.”

    When Poof was teasing me about saying Jean Valjean over and over? That’s how my government teacher would say it, everyday while the show was going on. Master of the House had me replaying exactly where I was on stage at each moment.

    Mr. Poland and L.A.

    Mr. Poland. One of my best friends from high school. We were incredibly close during this musical.

    Watching the show was a series of flashbacks combined with the sadness of the show. So many tears.

  3. Seriously. Have you seen this show? It’s SO GOOD.

Hence my large amount of love for this show. And why it was AWESOME that Poof went with me. Because now she has to love it too.

By the way. She made up an excuse. Like allergies or something in her eye. But she totally cried too.