Never in the history of ever has mine been this polite.

Shark week.
Hormone poisoning.
Auntie Flo’s miserable visit.

Whatever you call it? It often sucks, and sucks mightily. I have no words today. They have been swept away in a cloud of blues and reds.

This seems far too pretty to be a really precise image of what I am feeling.

Meh, I say. 

Seriously Cemeteries

WARNING: Very photo heavy post today. 

This should be a music number, much like Little Shop of Horror’s  “Suddenly Seymour” or something.
At least, that is how I hear it in my head.  Maybe because I am a bit odd?  *shrug*

I’ve been out running the roads just recently. One of the back roads that I use frequently has a number of older cemeteries along its route. They are beautiful (in my eyes) and I wish that I had my friend’s ability with a camera to capture what they look like to me. There is also an older railroad bridge and a (mostly dry, now) river that it runs over. I think the whole area is gorgeous, even on a 98° day.

I had my phone with me, so I tried my best. Because even though they aren’t terribly good pictures, they remind me of something lovely.

The first one on my route home from campus. There was no convenient parking, so I just stopped on the road and took a picture from the car. It looks interesting, but I have to put it on the lower end of To Be Explored. Because the others looks fascinating.
This is the second cemetery. It looks closed off, but I was able to slip through a gap in the fence.
This is inside the second one. Terribly historic and interesting stuff. Well, at least to me.
The air was so still and hot that you could smell the cedar trees cooking in their own bark. If you are from around here? That smell is summer and wishing for ice tea in big anodized cups with beads of condensation falling into your lap as you drink.
I dunno if you can tell from the picture, but the road curves in a slight S-shape as it goes under this bridge. And then the road passes over a narrow low-water crossing. As we have been in a drought for going on five years, the idea of there being water coming over the bridge is sort of laughable. But, it does not diminish the beauty of this area. Just…focuses it, somehow.
This is a path the water that the low water crossing bridge passes over. Back before the drought, you could park your car and come splashing here.
I have to ask myself: Why does the cemetery need a cattle guard at the entrance?
The answers I came up with would probably make Steven King grin a little.
Another huge cemetery with lots and lots of history behind it.  I DO wish they’d ban the practice of allowing plastic flowers on the graves.
This doesn’t anywhere *near* capture how lovely this tree was, with its little purple blossoms and roots down into MOM’s grave.
Tragedy, cut into a stone.
Bones, Father and Mother
It seemed to be a very private cemetery, so I took the photo from the car. However, in looking again, I see that there is not a lock on the fence. So, I will likely go back.
Also taken from the car. Alas, by this point the heat had started to give me a headache. This is another little cemetery that I will go back to. Perhaps with a better camera than the one my phone affords.

Wait, what?

Suddenly, I am up to my eyeballs with last minute re-negotiations with my school’s  Financial Aid office.

Bombs, away! Take that you dirty delicate plans!

I now have a small mountain of paperwork – that must get done right now or DOOOOM to my classes will happen.

I presume you have those forms filled out in TRIPLICATE?


So, HOW many of these do I need to leap through?

I don’t mind doing it, really. I do mind the wait-to-the-last-minuteness of it. Oh, yes I do.  I also kind of minded the snarkily superior tone of the person I spoke with on the phone.


I will go forth, fill out whatever is required, do whatever it is I need to do to get things taken care of. Because that is what one does, as an adult.

One day, and hopefully that day is soon, I will be done with all this nonsense. And it will be glorious.

For now, we just need to set our phasers to slog

It’s debt, Jim. But not as we know it.

Bonus Post: Endorphin Is Your Friend, Mmmmkay?

Sometimes, sadness just whaps you upside the head. And then you gotta remember something very import.



Yes, you. You are so stupendously awesome; I just don’t even know where to begin.

Don’t let your brain tell you things that aren’t true. The next time it gets up to its stupid shenanigans? Strap on a pair of running shoes and head out the front door. Between the sweating and the huffing and the puffing, you won’t have time to really mull over just how you’ve fucked up everyone’s life.

Plus, about minute 15 or so? Something magical happens.

Oh, baby baby. Talk peptides to me.

Seriously. Trust me on this one. Your brain is a bitch. But, she’s a bitch with access to all the really good stuff.  Promise.

For me, I find the added bonus of training to not get eaten by zombies major fun. That’s me, though. I run with Zombies! Run5K trainer.

Tonight we had the following stats and music:

Distance: 2.64 mi
Duration: 43:09
Average Speed: 3.75 mi/h
Average Pace: 15:59 min/mi