I’ve been doing some really deep thinking lately, pondering some of life’s greatest mysteries. Malaysia Flight 370. KONY 2012. (What ever happened with that, other than the guy who made the video getting busted for doing…ya know…in the middle of the street that time? Did it just end after that colossal PR disaster?) My ever-growing credit card statement. Stuff like that.
I’d like it if you’d let me share some of my thoughts and questions with you today. Maybe you can help me out.
The women waiting on the subway platforms in the summer in New York City with blow-dried hair and no upper lip sweat. Who are they? How do they lead such impeccable lives? To get from my apartment to the subway, I have to walk up this tiny hill, and by the time I reach the “summit” (it’s like eight feet of elevation gain across a one-block stretch; it’s so rough) I am sufficiently soaked, namely along my hairline, upper lip, lower back and under-boob. Also, on most summer days I definitely cannot even fathom blow drying my hair. And yet I arrive on the platform for that downtown 6 train and there are all these ladies, in their pencil skirts and their button-down blouses and their no boob sweat. How?
Women commuting in heels. How do they do it? Are they in secret pain? Are their feet numb? Don’t their heels ever get stuck in the subway grates on the street and then they face-plant and die? Are they magical?
A cockroach made its way up to the 28th floor of my building and into my living room yesterday. How?! (Apparently they can fly, that’s how, and I had all the windows wiiiide open all night prior.) This was my first run-in with a real, live, crawling cockroach and I did not like it one bit. I’m normally fine with bugs, but I saw this little dickwad and had to wake Brian for help. I did a whimpery, “There’s a cockroach in the apartment!” that may have come out less as a whimper and more as a murderous wail. I don’t remember, actually.
I thought I had crushed it underneath a towel (um, Brian’s shower towel…it was the closest thing I could find, I swear), but Brian picked up the towel and away the roach scurried. Eventually he bleached it and crushed it to death. Today we are getting our apartment professionally deep cleaned because the experience was so traumatizing for me. And also because we live very filthy daily lives and what’s underneath the couch is scary.
People who can sleep while wearing earrings. Doesn’t that hurt? I can’t do it. I need all jewelry off. The backs of the earrings dig into my skull and it aches. I salute you people who can sleep in jewelry.
People who can run while wearing jewelry. Does your necklace ever hit you in the face? I’ve never tried it, but I think I would get pelted in the eyeball with the chain. And I would get it sweaty. And it would distract me. I don’t know. So much to think about.
So you’ve decided to wear a bunch of bangles to work today. Cute! And now you’re typing away and you’re surviving just fine. Explain yourself. I have so many bangles and I love them and they look nice with some outfits. Then I get to work and I try to type and they clank all over the place, hitting the keyboard and typing their own words and productivity is over. The bangles have ruined my To-Do list, basically. Sometimes I’ll try to shove them up onto the thicker part of my forearm, but eventually they come barreling back down onto the keyboard and the desk. Havoc ensues.
Ladies who get manicures and maintain them for longer than eight minutes. You’re a mystery. You’re the real American heroes.
Dear all my headphones: Is running with me really so bad that you must kill yourselves after nearly every run? Love, Alison. PS Is there any way to get you to not sign that DNR form this time? I’d love for you to come back to me. Think of my sweat as your hydration. Your Nuun. Your life force. PPS I learned what “DNR” means from watching “Grey’s Anatomy.” PPPS RIP Denny.
Commuters with just one bag. Your minimalism and simplicity astound me. On any given day, I have three bags: one containing my laptop, planner, wallet, sunglasses, fancy pens, etc.; one with sneakers and workout things, should I be planning a post-work sweatfest; and my lunchbox. Everything is heavy and uncomfortable, and my shoulders are always bright-red by the time I get to work. You’d think getting a seat on the subway would help, but it doesn’t, because where am I going to put all my bags?
Kettlebells: Nooope. Too hard. Putting you down. Bye.
If there were a yoga class where you got to make all the sounds that the yoga poses “should” make, would you take it? I so obviously would. I’m trying to convince Bethany that this is an awesome idea, and I post about it on her Facebook wall daily. She tends to “Like” my comment, but I don’t see “Power Beaks” [TM] on the schedule yet… Think about it, though: Eagle pose = eagle noises. Crow pose = crow, obviously. Downward dog = barf bark woof! Airplane = vroom vroom engine noises! Pigeon pose = you shit wherever you want and get in everyone’s way and are disgusting. It’s a good idea. I really need someone to invest in this.
Weeknight people who cook. Just tell me how the hell you do it, because I can’t get my act together, and I’ve been trying for like four years. I don’t get home painfully late. I’m not here to tell you how busy I am. I’m no busier than the average working person these days. I’m just lazy, and I don’t food prep or grocery shop or bother getting my act together. And I don’t really know how to cook many things. So OK, I guess we actually solved this mystery. Perplexion over: People who cook dinner every night are just not lazy people.
Finally, two promotional-y things:
- Run this 5K next Tuesday at 7 PM in Prospect Park. It’s a prediction race, which means you predict your finish time when you sign up, and then you’re not allowed to run with any sort of timing devices (that includes music). The person who comes closest to his/her predicted finish time is the winner. Hence the title: Anyone Can Win. It’s only $10 and I will be there and we can become real-life friends.
- Remember my friend Becky? We were the very best of friends growing up and swore by wearing matching outfits and convincing people we were sisters. I was also the Maid of Honor in her wedding a few years ago. Now, Becky is training to run a half marathon with Team Challenge! She’s doing the whole fundraising thing, so if you feel like supporting a wonderful cause today, head on over to Becky’s page. $13 for 13.1 miles, perhaps?
WHAT’S ON YOUR MIND? Have you been pondering any of life’s big mysteries lately? Let’s talk them out together. Maybe we can solve some of the world’s great problems.