in search of the profound

i was thinking this weekend that so much of my life is spent on autopilot. that's not to say it isn't enjoyed, not to detract from my life in any way, but i spend so much of it going through the motions. workouts i don't want to do, i don't spend much time dwelling on how badly i don't want to do them. because i know i'll do them. they'll get done. the laundry, it'll get done. tasks at work, i'll do them. i asked dave how he felt about it, this autopilot business. he agreed in the feeling of his own life. yet he was immediately able to vocalize the only time he felt alive and active was when he was racing. which started me thinking - when do i feel alive? when do i feel most attune to my own 5 senses? i have no earthly idea. i find it quite poetic, and very fitting that in my whole getting-hit-by-a-truck incident, i never lost consciousness. i have no recollection, but you can read it right there, plain as day in the police report. i was awake and talking (bitching more like it) to the officer asking me questions. at times, i feel i'm living that scenario. awake but not aware. functioning but not participating. i have been thinking about this for awhile, and the fact that i can't innumerate the exact time/place in which i'm most alive, that really disturbs me. that i'm on autopilot, that doesn't really bother me. i think when you live in a place like LA, you become accustomed to tuning things out. you have to, it's the only way to get by. there's so much out there. every time you step out your door your senses are bombarded. and so much of it is just bullshit, garbage forced upon you. billboards everywhere. sirens and horns attack your ears. nasty smells singeing your nostrils. it's a constant stream of crap that you learn to just block out. but to what detriment? what do you end up missing? i don't know. i do know that when dave and i went camping at the beginning of the month, i was absolutely awestruck at the stars that night. and i've felt stupid for that. we live 42 miles away from downtown LA, and i haven't seen the stars in 2 years. saturday dave had a 12 hour mtn bike race that obviously went into the night. the minute the sun went down, the temp dropped 10-15 degrees. between my fits of shivering, i did my best to open myself. it was then that i heard the frogs, their croaking became deafening instantly. how long had they been singing before i actually heard them? no idea. coming from a small town i know a bit about frogs, and that they get started after the sun goes down, but from the time they started and the time i noticed, no idea how long that was. and then i looked up. the stars were amazing. some brilliantly blazing, others ever-so-faint, but present nonetheless. it was then that i made a pact with myself. my life is about to become absolutely hectic, but i'll get it done. my goal is to see the stars once a month. yes, it's a small thing. but they take my breath away. and my breath doesn't get taken away anymore. i'm in search of those moments that take my breath away. i'm in search of the profound.

ok, that's enough philosophical business.

dave and i saw the black swan last night. we should've known. we're not a water-fowl-loving bunch in this house. dave was attacked by a swan when he was younger, and i was attacked by a goose as a baby. bastards. it was a supremely well acted movie, i have a crush on natalie portman. we're a natalie-portman-loving house, we are. geese, no. natalie, si. it wasn't a movie either of us will see again, but it was one you have to see.

i start my MBA/MSN/Healthcare Admin degree tomorrow. i'm not the least bit excited. i was, but now that it's here, not so much. 2.5 years is a damn long time. yes, there's no time like now. yes, it's easier when i don't have kids to juggle too. but school is still school. and school still sucks. they didn't change that about it in the 3 years i've been out, i have no doubt about that. i'm doing it through the official school for the ADHD kid = university of phoenix. 'yeah we roll you through a bunch of bs classes every 6 weeks, but hey, our degrees are now legit!'. yeah, sign me up.

the pup is healing. 2 weeks ago he had a run-in with the gate at school (daycare). he snapped his 3rd metacarpal. not completely broken, but fractured enough to render him non-weight-bearing. oh, and yelping/screaming. it was quite a sad sight. we have to keep him isolated at school for 3 weeks, like that's going to happen. he's a holy terror, on steroids. it's funny, i read this story today about an entire population in northern afghanistan addicted to opium. for some reason reading that story reminded me of lucca. i'm not sure why, but it made me laugh. the story is sad, yes, but i thought about how if i were to give my child (lucca) opium right now, his behavior wouldn't be any different. whatever, it made me laugh at the time. had to be in my head, at that moment i guess.

after a two week head-cold-turned-bronchitis hiatus in training, i'm back at it. i love running. sweating makes me happy. i swam my arms off yesterday. i'm actually typing this with my toes. yep, all you who called my toes 'monkey fingers', look at me now...speaking of fingers, did you read the story on cnn.com last week about the baby who'd had 7 of his fingers bitten off by a ferret before his parents realized what had happened? true story. kid now has 2 working thumbs and one half pinkie. that's it. look it up, you don't believe me. i know, but i have to tell you. i'm not allowed to tell dave these things i find on the news websites anymore - he stops eating and all conversation ceases for quite awhile. and when it gets quiet 'round here, i open up my computer. it's a nasty cycle actually. hence my sharing these stories with you. you're welcome.