When Crying is Acceptable

I got pulled over two nights ago. The reason? Let’s just say after hours of flying and travel, I was hungry and pulled a maneuver towards the first open pizza shop in my vicinity… As a bicycle cop stood watching (and I assume perceived my action as unnecessary) Let’s just say I’ve been on this rodeo before and I’ve gotten coughseveralcough tickets and never have I gotten out of even one of them.

I’ve done a lot of reflecting on this- I’m nice, I’m polite, I say officer, I have a PBA card… So what am I doing wrong? I’m pretty sure cops must hate my face- then again, after questioning many who have escaped tickets, I have assessed the common thread- tears. I have never unleashed the water works, call it pride. I just assumed if I was honest and respectful cops would say, you seem honest and respectful, be more careful next time. Nope. You need to unleash tears.

This officer in particular was by far the meanest I have ever encountered, and keep in mind I have experience in this area of expertise. I took out PBA cards from NYPD friends- he scoffed and told me to put them away. I explained my travels, exhaustion, and hunger- he asked me if it was safe for me to even be driving and that I was irresponsible for driving while tired. That’s when it hit me, nothing is going to work on this guy.

At first the tears were a desperate last ditch effort to save myself points and a few hundred dollars. Then they became real as he continued to attack my character! He said, so you were at a work conference?! No one should ever hire someone that makes driving decisions like you. hmmm. Now I’m offended because I’m a pretty savvy driver- I even looked both ways, officer robo cop! Then again, I mean,haven’t you guys heard about the connectedness of crappy driving and people deserving jobs?

As I pitifully wept, he continued to harass me and then out of no where said, just go. I sat in my car completely unsure of what to do… go as in drive away? I decided it was safer not to ask any questions and left. Needless to say, I am terrified to bump into officer farva ever again.

Lessons learned?

People who are given bicycles instead of cars are not pleasant.
Be careful where you pull u-turns… No matter how hungry you are.
You don’t deserve a job if you make a bad driving decision.

And last but definitely not least…
Crying does work.

Have you ever gotten pulled over? For what? Did you get out of it?!

School’s Out for Summer

Oh, baby, does it feel good to… Sit.

I was in Washington (state) over the past three days for work and it’s safe to say that I was slightly sleep deprived. I fell asleep on the car ride to the airport, on my luggage waiting to board the plane, and on the plane- Because I’m classy like that- I pass out anywhere. I can speak more on the beauty of Washington later, and how running on hills was like a death sentence, but I just want to talk about how I’m on summer vacation OFFICIALLY!

That means-
No alarms
No responsibility… Kinda…
And running!
And yoga!
And swimming!
And bike riding!

And that was my day today! After much needed r&r, I cleaned the apartment and rode my bike about 5 miles to Atlantic Beach- a town to the west of long beach where John works in the summer. It’s wonderful to switch up my routine and go on a bike ride by myself. I was able to decompress, no music, and just enjoy the ride.

When I arrived, John met me on the beach and we did a 1.5 mile run to the last jetty. This was the first time that I’ve run on sand… Whatdafuq. Why didn’t anyone tell me how much my calves were going to hurt?! But in all seriousness, it felt completely necessary after the binge session I just had in Seattle. Where I ate everything I could get my hands on. Hello, dessert with every meal.

When we made it back to where my belongings were I hopped back on my bike for my five mile journey back home.

I love New York in the summer.

Feel Good Music

At 7:30 a.m. I can say I have finished my run, showered, had my morning cup of joe (good thing… I was wearing my “make me coffee” shirt with the gun on it), and listened to Darius Rucker on repeat – the last one is not by choice. John has a new obsession. Obsession. I finally understand why he hated it when I played Countdown by Beyoncé on repeat.

And now, for my LAST DAY of work!

May be a simple life but that’s okay, yeah
If you ask me baby I think I got it made

Oysters Verde

Nothing like coming home to a little fiesta!

Tell me how you really feel

I hate invisible illnesses.
I hate them even more when they are no longer invisible.
I hate not being allowed to bask in the sun.
I hate lupus.

Breath.

There are a few things you need when you have a disease:

1. Humor:

You need humor.

You have to be able to laugh at your own expense. For example- as New York seeks to legalize marijuana for medicinal purposes, I laugh at how many people are going to be so jealous that I can be a card carrying legal member of the marijuana club. Who would have thunk that so many would be jealous of me having lupus?!

2. Positivity:

Positivity is awesome and absolutely necessary when you live with any kind of illness- invisible or otherwise. When I started my blog many people would say- you’re so positive, Talia!

Me? Positive?

Sure, in many ways I attempt to exude positivity- it’s my survival mode. My defense mechanism. It’s how I get through each day because when you have lupus you need to be positive. Otherwise, what else do you have? Oh yes, you have lupus.

3. You must be a realist

Sometimes the glass is not half full- sometimes there’s just liquid in it. This is my other survival mode- positivity doesn’t always work. Sometimes, positivity is the nemesis. I need to get into a worst case scenario frame of mind… And as sick as that sounds, it’s how I can function. If I know that default mode is sick, when I’m healthy I can feel as though I’m on top of the world.

So where am I at today?

Today I hate lupus. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. Lupus, you suck. Lupus, suck it.

I don’t know what’s going on, but my body has been breaking out in hives for the past week.

Exhibit a:

Ay dios mio! Back, legs, hands, face… They are everywhere.

I called my lupus doctor (aka my rheumatologist) and the verdict is that it could be the sun. It could be my lupus. It could be allergies. It could be none of the above. So take Claritin and give him a call in a week if it doesn’t clear up. And there’s something so frustrating about having a disease that leaves even the doctors puzzled.

On days like today I just need to remember- positivity. humor. realism. repeat. And I guess I just have to wait it out. And take some advice from bears if/when necessary:

And that folks covers your lupus facts of the day- sometimes it makes you itch and no one will be able to tell you why.

Now, tell me a joke or a story to make me smile. Go!

As heard on the boardwalk:

How many miles is it?
Slightly over 4.
Wow- I could never do that.

I’m a people watcher, listener, observer… Creeper? Ok, maybe not a creeper- but I do take it all in. How else am I going to pass the time on a run? Listen to music for 40 minutes? Psssshhhhh.

I’m sure I’ve had that exact conversation in my life- whenever anyone even mentioned running in my presence I would scoff as though they were telling me about quantum physics (which I do not understand- just to be clear…)

Because I’ve been so out of touch in the blogosphere, I should be real with you all about my running. I’m still doing it! Woo! John is too! Double woo! And can I tell you guys… He has lost nearly 40lbs… Yes, that’s right… 4-0 el bees. I can’t say the same for myself but my running journey was never correlated directly with weight loss. If it happened, cool, if not… Hey why is he losing all of this weight and I’m not?! I kid (somewhat…) my running dreams were geared towards pushing myself and find something to be proud of. And I have done that- mission accomplished on both of our ends.

What I’m trying to say is running is the shit. A curse felt right there.

On the other hand- now that I’ve done a few races, I’ve gotten lazier. I have not been on missions to train. I have definitely not gotten my ass up early or off the couch late to go to the gym. Quite frankly, I’m doing baby runs as I call them- 2-3 milers. And last year I would have called that an awe-inspiring super human task but these days I call it being blasé.

Today I needed a change of pace- I am bored!

3.5 miles
Ran half straight
Other half sprinted at every beach entrance followed by 20 standing push-ups on the railing with 20 sit-ups.

52 miles per month- I set my intention, a goal, something to work towards. What’s a goal if it’s something that takes no effort? At the end of the day did I work for it? I’m going to have to set some new intentions- or what am I doing here?

How do you beat workout boredom?

Lessons from Students

Do what you love – love what you do. It seems like a simple concept. As the first class I ever taught finishes their four years in high school I’m reminded of the real reason I started this job. It makes me happy. Teaching isn’t easy- don’t get into it if that’s what you thought or what someone told you. It is a job only for those who can handle it. The profession will at times wear you down- you may even cry on your second day as you drive into work (I only cried one time… And that’s a real accomplishment). This is a job that can be thankless- it is hated and judged by many. Maybe it’s our own memories surrounding our education that plagues our feelings towards educators.

But I love this job. I love teachable moments. I love the perspective of the world and the naive views that many freshmen begin the year with. I love seeing them go from babies to young adults. I love when they visit me after they have new teachers. Or when they are in college. I have students that are 22 now. And I love that some of them are exactly where I was when I started this profession. And some are looking to become teachers themselves.

So, on the last day of classes, as I said goodbye to so many of my “kids” I was very touched by one letter in particular.

And it doesn’t matter what your profession is- just remember that every day you make a difference in someone’s life… Sometimes you don’t even realize it.

Do you feel appreciated in your job?
What role did teachers/school play in your life?

Father’s Day

When I was six we moved. Far.

When the moving truck pulled away, we waved goodbye to my father who stayed behind.

I was a product of divorce- a kid that saw their dad on breaks and spoke to them by phone. There is a lot of misdirected anger that can accumulate from that setup.

Why did we move? Why didn’t you move with us? What would my life have been like?

Things have been said that can’t be taken back. For years, finding the right Father’s Day card was nearly impossible- none of them said anything I felt like I could say.

As an adult, there was anger I held on to for a very long time- and it was through yoga and running (and some additional help- I saw a therapist for one year and it was one of the best decisions of my life) I realized that I am able to move on and forward. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. And wow, does that feel amazing. Like a hundred pound weight if lifted off of my chest.

My dad has given me some of my best (passion, creativity) and worst (I’ll keep those to myself) traits. He is the life of the party, driven, hardworking (to the point of obsession), and absolutely ridiculous. Seriously, ridiculous. Like, beyond description ridiculous.

Dad, we have our whole lives to make up for lost time. I love you. And I forgive you for losing me in Coney Island.

And on that note, here is the time he followed me around with a video camera on my fifth birthday- and then I lose my mind. This is why I can’t have children… If they are anything like me you will see me on the news one day. If you don’t even read this post- just watch the video.
no bicycle movie!

Funfetti, Suckas

It feels wonderful to sit. Kick back. And maybe even relax for a little Orange is the New Black binge sesh, (after a seriously long week).

My apartment smells like I imagine heaven would- funfetti, baby loves!

Who came up with that genius name?

I have an idea, George, let’s name it… Funfetti!

P.S. – it’s basically Friday! We made it, everyone!

Also- doing the blog lovin’ thing.. I think I love it!
<a href="http://Follow my blog with Bloglovin“>Woo!

Good People

Cars have always been something that have taken me from point a to point b. I was never one for a looker, I just want to make sure I’m safe. When I first bought my CRV, my brother looked at me and asked if I was actually a 36 year old mom with another one of the way as he checked my backseat for the car seat. Ha, Ha, jerk. I never truly recognized how a car can hold so many memories.

A first, terribly awkward, kiss in a mini van.
The time my friends put me in a trunk of a Ford Focus and we drove around like sixteen year old morons.
When my mom taught me how to drive in her Nissan Pathfinder. And then decided to get me private lessons.
Road trips to Cape Cod in my Subaru.
When my brother crashed my forest green Sunfire while I was on vacation. My family decided it would be cheaper to bolt the front bumper back on- so we named it Frankenstein. And then it got hit by a school bus. And I still drove it around.

A car holds so many stories for so many people.

When my best friends boyfriend bought his Ford Country Squire, I have to be honest, I laughed. Ford Country Squire- like… from the Griswold’s family vacation?! Yes. Just like the Griswold’s only less green.
I have my own memories of this vehicle and though they are hazy due to time, they are fond. Back when we would all get together as a big extended family, we would squeeze into the station wagon. My cousins and I would fight for the seats in the way back. At a solid 55mph, you would feel infinite as you faced out towards the backside of the car.

When the offer came to drive the Ford Country Squire to go see Jack Johnson last night, there were no questions asked. Six of us crammed in and began our own Family Vacation, myself as the “chosen one” to sit in between mom and dad for the journey to Jones Beach. It felt like a genuine road trip as we whipped down the Ocean Parkway blasting cassettes and singing at the top of our lungs. A little Beastie Boys, a little Prince.

We pulled into the parking lot like a bunch of champions. Champions ready to dine of Subway. The meal of Champions.

And I can’t explain it, but there is something insanely special about popping down, no chairs, no preparation whatsoever, for a semi-impromptu Jack Johnson concert with your friends. And by semi-impromptu I mean we spoke about buying tickets but did not follow through until this week. And we got the perfect weather, and the perfect scenery, and the perfect group. 
And the car soon became a focal point for multiple people- they came up to us and asked to take pictures of the car, sit in the car, and told us about their own personal stories. One guy recalled laying in the back with his two sisters and sleeping the whole ride down to Florida with his family. He smiled from ear to ear- his wife told us that she has heard this story for the past 11 years and possibly the millionth time. As a group we sat there creating new memories.

When the time came to go into the concert the sky was filled with stars, voices, and an array of potent smells.

We sang, laughed, and felt like we were sixteen all over again. And it’s the small moments that pass us by that culminate into your unique life. We drove home together, reveling in the amazingness that is Jack Johnson. What a night.