THE APOLOGY

I'm back from New York City. I will touch more on that in a moment.


Before I left, I sent a few e-mails to my dear friends Molly, Jaclyn, and Alyx asking how to get in touch with them so I could see them because I both miss and love them.


Yes, well, while in New York I completely, utterly, and inexcusably failed to check my e-mail. On the flight home I felt worse than I've felt in a long, long time. (And I do stupid things on a daily basis.)

Thus, the indispensable Joey Moore and I decided to present my extreme remorse the only way I know how: Through pictures and word bubbles.

(I have to keep refreshing to get this image to load.)




If there is a silver lining to the pathetic cloud I have hanging over my head, it is that I am grimly determined to return to NYC as soon as possible to find some way to atone for my sins. I am a moderate cook and I can do light housekeeping, at the very least.


If there is any chance of forgiveness, I hope that I will find it in New York City.

What a party.


Beth and I entered Sibbitt's home to find him slightly inebriated and busily tending to the preparation of a variety of animal-based dishes.


Outside, Mother Nature wept softly to herself as we sat down (or, for those who were not quick enough to grab seats, stood up) to consume roast goose, baked rabbit, grilled rabbit, rabbit stew, and bacon-wrapped shrimp,


Somewhere else outside, a cow and a chicken were high-fiving each other.


I almost polished off my bottle of apple brandy which would have floored me had I not stopped halfway to gorge myself on various critters.


The party continued in that fashion, with drinking punctuated by trips to the table of dead animals.


A few vegetarian spring rolls made an appearance but they too were quickly devoured. Ah, the joys of being an omnivore.


And I must say, the moonshine Sibbitt brewed was tremendous.


We spent the night. While we slept, about three inches of snow fell. I was not pleased. It made for a harrowing drive home, but fortunately, Beth was driving. I mostly huddled in the foot well of the passenger seat and whimpered.




On a less self-sufficient note, I am leaving for New York tomorrow night. I have no idea what to expect and that's exactly how I like it.


As long as it isn't snowing up there I'm sure I'll be fine...

Sibbit is embarking on another adventure.


I for one intend to see him off right.


Friday afternoon I will leave work, possibly hijack my dear mother's minivan, grab a warm sweater and my bottle of apple brandy, and then trek up to Flagstaff for his embarking party.


I am accepting passengers. And why yes, I do allow drinking in my car as long as it is in some kind of giant convenience store cup.


What say you?

No rest for the wicked, I suppose.


I'm on my hour and a half break between school and work today. On Mondays I crawl into work at 6 am. Usually by 4:30 pm I manage to free myself from my shackles by gnawing off my legs. Now that school is back in full swing, I have class from 6 pm until 9:30. This is my first day of this schedule and I'm a little concerned about what else I may have to gnaw off before I finally attain freedom.


I'm optimistic.

What have I been up to?


I got drunk on my lunch hour and then returned to work to attend a huge meeting with over 600 of my fellow employees of my company and then got in an argument new CEO of the company.


Brian and I went to Los Angeles to visit Julie and Erin. As a side quest, we picked up a couple of growlers of the legendary Coronado Nut Brown Ale.


I learned to walk like a normal person again.


I signed up for another semester of school.


I memorized the chair dance routine the fat Romanian guy does.


Neglected my blog.


Seriously considered tearing out the new crown on my tooth after a week and a half of pain whenever I use my mouth.


Booked a flight to New York for the first weekend of February.


Had a sandwich.


Barely escaped with my life after being attacked by my niece and two cousins whose combined ages and weights equal 8 years and 56 pounds, respectively.


Hmm. Looking back at what I've written, my life sounds pretty good.

*I fixed it.


The world must be told.

I ran the Rock N' Roll Arizona Marathon on Sunday morning.


I imagine that the way I went about it was the usual way people decide to run marathons.


I was driving home from a night of drinking and dancing at 8 o'clock Saturday morning. I was listening to the radio when I heard an announcement for the marathon the next day. One of my New Year's Resolutions was to run a marathon. I had planned to run one I had heard about in six months. After all, I don't run very much or at all so it seemed like a good time frame to give myself.


As I was driving and listening to the advertisement, it occurred to me that I don't even like to run. Why should I draw out six months of annoying training when I could just run one now and get it over with? Sure, I was untrained, but the reason most people don't finish marathons (besides giving up) is because they aggravate injuries that they received during their training.


Having had no training, I had no injuries. Plus, I'd never run anywhere near the 26.2 miles in a marathon so I had no idea what I was getting into. I saw both as an advantage.


I went down to the Health and Fitness Expo where I could sign up. I registered, and got my race number. An old gentleman marked my name down as Gunther Lopez and I liked it so much I didn't ask him to change it. I meandered about the expo sampling free energy drinks, power foods, and since I was still a little hung-over I gladly accepted a cup of low-carp beer. Finally, I purchased some non-blistering socks that were red and black and had pirate skulls on them and I was on my way.


I woke up the next morning at 4:30 in the morning. I showered, dressed in my running shorts and a soccer shirt, put tape over my nipples to prevent chafing, threw on my albatross necklace, ate a couple pieces of bread, grabbed my keys and drove to the event.


The race began at 7:40 am. As I ran the first few miles, I tried to form a strategy: "Let's see, a lot of people are weaving around other people to pass them. Over the course of 26 miles, all this lateral movement is going to add up. Also, since my body isn't used to high-sugar foods, I should avoid those flavored energy gels that people are eating because it will just cause me to cramp. Another thing I should be aware of-OH MY GOD IS THAT LADY GIVING OUT GOLDFISH CRACKERS?!"


She gave me two handfuls and I ran happily along munching on my goldfish crackers.


There was a lot of food at the race. I was ravenously hungry when I began but along the way I consumed orange slices, bananas, M&M's, gummy bears, pretzels, and all sorts of high-energy delights.


When I was running with the banana I had to restrain my desire to hurl it at the runners ahead of me Mario-karat style. Maybe next marathon.


I was feeling pretty good until about mile 18. At mile 20, my left knee began to throb and I could no longer feel my right arm. At mile 23, I broke down and started walking. My no-lateral-movement plan was in full effect. Not so much by choice, but because my muscles were so fatigued I could only move forward. The route headed down a slight incline which I welcomed at first. Alas, the miniscule added tug of gravity nearly caused me to fall three separate times.


I began to run again at mile 24. My left leg felt like a piece of wood with a nail in it where my knee should have been. It really wasn't until then that I began to question the intelligence of my decision.


I crossed the finish line with a time of 5 hours and fifty minutes. I got a medal, a little blanket to keep me from cooling down to quickly, and a nice lady gave me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and some Gatorade.


It made it all worth it.


Out of the 11,475 people that ran the marathon, 7,365 finished. And I'm proud to say that one of those 7,365 people was a young man named Gunther Lopez.