I need snow and the silence of woods like it's apart of my chemical make up.
I want my cheeks to be red and my nose to feel numb. I want my lips to be chapped and I want to hear the crunch of snow under my boots.

I need there to be silence and the slow down the winter forest forces in you.

I'm excited for christmas because some how I think it's going to change my life around.
And I'm scared for two-thousand and eleven because my life is going to change drastically and I've already idolized how I need, well want rather it to be. I do that. I picture my life and things in it down to the smallest detail like the centerpiece on my future dining room table and then I obsess.

I'm trying to branch out.
So I bought sexy new boots that make me feel sexy and I want to strut around in them and just them.

Plus I hung out with a new friend who not only is not inlove with me, is a girl ,but is straight.
Huge step for me.

And I'm a love sick puppy.
Oh lord I'm pathetic

Happy holidays

Welcome to December.

You only have one functioning ovary.
and fibroids.









Uh what? Well that was out of field. Well technically, I guess right.
I'm twenty years old and only half capable of performing what is one of the most basic functions of humans.

I always said I never wanted kids and truly, I don't think kids would be good for my introverted, independent, spazz ouf out of my skin on a regular basis type of personality (and it probably wouldn't be good for them). Plus, I've heard stories of how I was as a child and my parents get kudo's for not strangling the wild haired, big gray eyed banshee that I used to be.

Yet, it surprised me just how upset the news really made me. And it's just there, consuming my head. Because even if I always told myself I never wanted kids, I want the option to never have kids; without having to spend thousands of dollars in fertility treatments because lets face it, they're expensive enough and who really wants to pay to push a human being out of their vagina?

I guess it just kind of feels like a blow to my womanhood.

And then there's work. Which statistically, pediatrics are a small minority of our patients. Pediatrics with serious problems are even smaller.

Except when you find out you are less likely to have kids. Then it's baby after baby.
With cancer or a breathing tube.


the first phase of paramedic school is coming to a close and lets not talk about that or how I'm sure he wears sweaters in hell. Children's sweaters to fit his short little leathery skinned, horned, body.



I'm in a funk.

They say you cannot run from your problems but I disagree. In-fact in those wild, spastic strides with the wind in your face and your heart pounding against your ribs you feel nothing, the most blissful emptiness you'll ever not feel. The more space you put between where you were and you're next step is riveting. It's like heroin.
and maybe you cannot out run them because you always have to turn back but at least when you do, you can take a god damn breath before you step into the tangled mess that is your life.

those who say you cannot run from your problems are simply not runners.

-me

"The battles that count aren't the ones for gold medals. The struggles within yourself - the invisible, inevitable battles inside all of us - that's where it's at."

Jesse Owens

I rolled into the house like a category five hurricane. Spitting lightning and profanities.
I fiddled with socks as I let him in on my crazy. This is not how I planned my day at all. Everything I never told anybody just came out with Haines in my hands. and as I shut the door behind me a wave of humiliation came over me. I want to hide my head in dirt like an ostrich.
I want to push redo. I want to pinky promise to never mention my mini meltdown ever again but it doesn't work that way. not because I'm an adult, not because it's the grown up thing to do but because it;ll always be there.

_DSC0958, originally uploaded by underthedeltablues.

So, while other people were sitting their little people amongst the pumpkins and cooing them for smiles, we had our drooling, clumsy dogs.

and our sunday. Caramel, evening bike ride, and curling up in that spot I love.

"The battles that count aren't the ones for gold medals. The struggles within yourself - the
invisible, inevitable battles inside all of us - that's where it's at."

Jesse Owens, American track and field athlete and Olympic gold medal winner

I start sentences off with things like, "I found a way to make me more interesting" and I follow it with talking about a new local coffee shop I found about 6 blocks from my house. The music is good and I love sitting next to the window, alone, with hot tea and my textbooks.

Because I think things like that make me more interesting, vs my usual corner seat at panera hiding behind a laptop screen and underneath textbooks and notepads.

I bought a new journal. I agonized and paced the back wall. I held a dozen in my hands. I weighed them in my palm, I flipped through the pages, I examined the width between the lines, and I pictured them in my backpack or my The Greater Good bag.

and I'm addicted to hot tea and candy corn.

THAT is the kind of 20 year old I am.

Did I ever tell you how much I'm inlove with October?

Which is kind of ironic since I almost died in October a few years ago. And no, I'm not being a melodramatic blogger, I'm serious.

I'm sitting in a lawn chair in my backyard eying a pretty calico who's eying me back. Tank is gumming his pink elephant and I'm not letting any of this weather go to waste. There's just something so right about the way Don Henley and fall go together. I'm a little sad paramedic school has robbed me of it this year though. I'll miss the best part of this year inside a windowless e.r. and o.r. Even though intibating and watching surgeries close enough I can smell the electrocautery through my mask is amazing and addicting; I'll miss the best parts.

But the air is crisp in the morning when I leave for school and work and in the midst of staring down a hellacious year, where 130 hour weeks are normal and my life is still kind of falling apart and he's on a completely opposite schedule, I'm excited. The air makes me excited for life.

And there's me, in a healthy adult relationship. Not running, not balking, not saying, "I have to piss". I'm different than I was a year ago.

"I think I get used to, even addicted to, the feelings associated with the end of a long training run. I love feeling empty, clean, worn out, starving, and sweat-purged. I love the good ache of muscles that have done me proud. I love the way a cold beer tastes later that afternoon. I love the way my body feels light an...d sinewy."

Kristin Armstrong, Author and runner

Alis Volat Propriis

Alis Volat Propriis, originally uploaded by underthedeltablues.

She said I don't know if I've ever been good enough
I'm a little bit rusty, and I think my head is caving in
And I don't know if I've ever been really loved
By hand that's touched me, well I feel like something's gonna give
And I'm a little bit angry, well

This ain't over, no not here, not while I still need you around
You don't owe me, we might change
Yeah we just might feel good

(Chorus)
I wanna push you around, well I will, well I will
I wanna push you down, well I will, well I will
I wanna take you for granted, I wanna take you for granted, yeah I will, I will

Well I will

She said I don't know why you ever would lie to me
Like I'm a little untrusting when I think that the truth is gonna hurt ya
And I don't know why you couldn't just stay with me
You couldn't stand to be near me
When my face don't seem to want to shine
'cuz It's a little bit dirty well

Don't just stand there, say nice things to me
I've been cheated I've been wronged you,
And you don't know me, I can't change
I won't do anything at all

(Chorus)
I wanna push you around, well I will, well I will
I wanna push you down, well I will, well I will
I wanna take you for granted, I wanna take you for granted, yeah I will, I will

Oh but don't bowl me over
Just wait a minute well it kinda fell apart, things get so crazy, crazy
Don't rush this baby, don't rush this Baby, baby

(Chorus)
I wanna push you around, well I will, well I will
I wanna push you down, well I will, well I will
I wanna take you for granted, yeah, yeah, yeah
I wanna take you, take you, yeah, well I will, I will, I will, I will
I will, I will, I will, Yeah, yeah, push you around,
I'll drag you down, I wanna push you around
Well I will


"Push" Matchbox 20

"Even when you have gone as far as you can, and everything hurts, and you are staring at the specter of self-doubt, you can find a bit more strength deep inside you, if you look closely enough."

Hal Higdon

I couldn't tell what I was feeling. Part of me could finally breathe because there was a label on it. There was a definiteness. The other part of me wanted to run out of the doctor's office because ignorance really is bliss (that's the vagina part of me). Both parts wanted to break down and cry. I was surprised at how much it knocked me back.

Running is my antigen; It's my "self".

I met myself last night at work. She was me in forty years. I loved her and it was comforting to know that in forty years, I really wont change much and apparently, between twenty and forty I'll learn to accept myself more and not be so hard.

This morning I ran home from the station.
I was angsty waiting for him to bring me my ipod. I moaned and fussed as I fidgeted trying to rush a goodbye. I probably looked like a squirrel.. in a jumpsuit. The hills were steep and frequent but the view at the apex of the bridge was gorgeous as the lakes were just waking up. I took the Trek back.

I've taken up this new hobby of biking through the historic neighborhoods and fantasizing about fabulous houses and how they look on the inside and in my fabulous life. I re-invent myself in this new life where my hips aren't too big and there's no more stubborn blemishes on my face and I have this beaming smile that lights up a room.
There's a sun room with my paints set up with a half finished painting on the easel that I actually have intentions of finishing. The kitchen is gorgeous and smells like cleaner scented with vanilla. The dog bowls match and aidan is lounging on the pottery barn furniture. There's fabulous wood floors and big thick molding and tall windows to let the light filter on the floor.
Could I be any more of a space cadet?

Today I realized:

I thought more about the mysterious culprit (pictured above) I killed this evening than the code I worked this morning. I wrapped him in a towel, paused, and quietly whispered I'm sorry before I squished him. (The caterpillar). Just a lonely caterpillar trying to make it in this big world.

I'm sorry Mr. Caterpillar but you can't go messing with a girls tomatoes.


I spent over twenty agonizing minutes trying on backpacks; unzipping and re adjusting, examining pocket space and analyzing if it matched my personality (yes, I do that).
Apparently I have higher standards for my backpacks than I do my men.


If you hit the window frame with the posterior side of your fist it makes the rattling stop.

I'm slipping back into that lull again.





p.s. I went with the black one because it had a special pocket for my journal.

Have I ever mentioned how much it pains me to set my alarm at a time that ends in a zero or a five? Well it does. There are three alarms that are constantly changing on my phone and they all typically end in a three or an eight.

He played hookie from work on one condition; vegging on the couch- together.

So that's exactly what we've been doing.



In other news, I've been killing myself via carbohydrates (the bad ones) and cheese.
God help me.

People can't understand why a man runs. They don't see any sport in it. Argue it lacks the sight and thrill of body contact. Yet, the conflict is there, more raw and challenging than any man versus man competition. For in running it is man against himself, the cruelest of opponents. The other runners are not the real enemies. His adversary lies within him, in his ability, with brain and heart to master himself and his emotions.

Glenn Cunningham - American runner, Olympic Games medalist

I ran out the hostility of the last three days.

"Out on the roads there is
fitness and self-discovery and the persons we were destined to be."


Dr. George Sheehan

You know you live with a runner when this is what you see by the front door.
Yes, they are all mine and yes, they are all asics.


I feel good. I mean, I'm sore and exhausted but in a good way. I'm stepping back into my skin and finding the person I missed the most; myself. My good self.

I've immersed myself back into fitness and more than just running. I'm doing it right this time (or at least attempting to) by eating right.I'm forcing myself to eat before runs and listen to my body. Because my body is smart and I have a lot to learn from it. It's my temple and it may not be perfect but there's nothing more personal than me.


I'm also spazing less and my moods are better. I think it's because I have so much going on in my head all the time that it gets all knotted up and the gears jam. I need that release, that quiet time, that therapy to un-tangle all the mess- or at least attempt to.

work in the morning. Well actually I'm going back to the twilight zone for a few hours to hear about "customer service" and then I'm going to whatever station they decide to send me to. It'll be my day of "rest" from running.

"when hardship/tragedy comes, the world becomes silent, the air changes, we see and breathe differently. Sometimes we see life, our life, for the very first time. And everything as you see it changes."

I'm sitting here; in the dark, in a bare room, scattered with pieces of garbage listening to tanks stomach rumble.

I'm in this limbo waiting for my new job to start,old tenants to get out of my new house, and have my little boy in a new home; away from me (ouch).

I feel like I'm failing at all of this in a massive way.
Like everything is spinning out of control and it's all my fault.

I'm a control freak and I'll be the first to admit it. I need to know that I'm grounded or that there's something I can be held accountable for. Something that is up to me, something that makes me heard because I can't be shut out in the dark and I can't be dormant.

There was a stupid misunderstanding and I'm the crazy one.
I'm the one that's fucking up.

I'm the one who gets points for breathing in and out.

I'm the one who's working herself sick to make everyone else happy because if I don't, I'm the bad person. I'm the selfish person. I'm the awful person.

I'm the one who gets in my truck at unreasonable times because there's a blackness festering in my chest and a man screaming inside. Screaming to get out.
So I lace up and I run. Without warming up, without gracefulness. Frantic, feverish steps.

The minute I start to get a grasp it goes to hell
so I run faster and harder and the more distance I put between where I was and where I am now the more grounded I feel. Because I'm the girl who quietly absorbs and then tries to outrun it. But you can't outrun yourself and eventually you always have to stop and you're still right there with you.

But there's this numbness that takes over. The eye of the storm and everything is calm. The same drive I take everyday suddenly isn't long enough and I already want to turn back.

I retract what I said.


I made it to exit twenty-two and I made the phone call.
I kicked my boots off as I tore into the driveway
dropped my bag and keys at the door and I walked toward someone that wasn't me.
I told my head to shut up and I collapsed and I cried and everything I held in I let out.

Crying is weird, it's unfamiliar and it's... different. I'm not good at it and I naturally excel at (almost) everything I do. Not crying. Not talking. I can't remember the last time I cried before today.




They are my people.
The two of them.
And my awkward, mouth-breather of a dog.

"L.A. lights never shine quite as bright as in the movies
Still wanna go?
'Cause something here
In the way, in the way that we're constantly moving
Reminds you of home

So you're taking these pills
For to fill up your soul
And you're drinking them down with cheap alcohol
And I'd be inclined to be yours for the taking
And part of this terrible mess that you're making
But me, I'm the catalyst

When you say love is a simple chemical reaction
Can't say I agree
'Cause my chemical, yeah, left me a beautiful disaster
Still love's all I see

So I'm taking these pills for to fill up my soul
And I'm drinking them down with cheap alcohol
And you'd be inclined to be mine for the taking
And part of this terrible mess that I'm making
But you, you're the catalyst"

Today was hard. Harder than I thought and as I sat there waiting with all the other people waiting and hoping it all wasn't real and we were somewhere else and all the unfamiliar faces were just in our heads and tv screens and wooden doors didn't mean as much as they meant at that moment.

I'm stubborn and I'm fierce and god I'm a force to be reckoned with but even a hurricane needs the ocean. and sometimes the ocean needs a little help from mother nature and that's what he was supposed to be; mother nature. I'm my own ocean, I'm my own force but just letting me be and taking me for what I am would is nice.

I don't believe in fairy tales and I don't believe in happily ever after. No one held my hand before this and no one will after and truthfully I like to keep my arms swinging at my side, at my pace, freely.

But I'm hurt and as much as I hate that word and using it to describe how I feel I'm at a loss for what else to say. I expected more, I expected something better and I expected something completely different because like that big rock in the night sky things like that only happen once every seventy five years.

i'm angry because I know I don't need someone but my back up plan, my oh-shit bar, my plan C through Z has holes.


She's my person and I'm her person
Meredith and Christina

Ring the bells that can still ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack in everything

Thats how the light gets in

- leonard cohen

Look at me now

Spent the night in a suite with him. Italian food, a soft bed, and tired eyes.


I still got it!
I ran four miles on the treadmill this morning on the "hill/strength training" mode. Then did an hour of strength training (core, arms, and shoulders) When I got home I spent another hour and a half hanging and climbing on beams fixing the roof on the barn, then took tank running around the lake (twice!). I did over six miles, probably a hair under seven (if not seven) and I feel amazing. My knee has a dull pain but I had this.. I can't even explain it. It felt like coming home after a long absence. It felt like crawling under a warm blanket after being out in the cold all day. It felt like home, it felt like I was at peace.

Suddenly, I came to terms with my life and I grabbed it by the horns. I have the control and I was coping. All the things I quietly absorbed, I was releasing. I didn't want to stop, I wanted to just keep running until morning but Tank was tired and my knee still isn't completely healed.
But god, it was such a high.

Between yesterday and today I feel great. I needed to get out of here, I needed to get away from all the familiarity screaming down on me. I needed to get out of it so I could deal with it.

"You're so cute and cuddy." ... "Enjoy it while you can, cause when I'm all better I'm like a Raptor!"

Dear pms,
Making me eat all the time sucks. Gaining 5lbs once a month (if it comes regularly) sucks. Being bloated sucks. Having stomach pains sucks. Headaches sucks. "feeling" those emotional things sucks.Having my iron completely drop off the chart sucks. Making my vag bleed sucks. Basically, you suck.

No love,
the broad who destroyed the Oreo's.


I've been a waste of space for the past few days. I have a serious bacteria infection that started off in a bug bite below my right knee (the good one). I ran a 5k saturday morning with my Dad and step-dad. My mom and step-mom were there and he came. He met my father, they got along (this is where I take a deep breath and that half-conniving-smile).

I absolutely refuse to miss a tradition with my dad.

After wards, he took me to the urgent care clinic. I limped out of there and spent everyday since hobbling around the house like a pathetic wounded animal.

I'm a hellbent independent.

He's completely set up this new snazzy laptop I have. (Hello beautiful).

Life recently has been good, painful but good.
Though I can't shake the feeling that it's a calm before the storm. What storm I don't really know, maybe I'll un-suppress a life worth of living, or maybe something really bad is going to happen. Regardless, I made it through having a half inch hole in my leg dug out with forceps without crying

"There will be days when you think you've raised an alien. there are the same days she feels like she's being raised by one" (seemed appropriate).

So, technically it's Valentines day. /the day of roses (gag), chocolate (gag), mushy-gushy feelingy stuff (gag gag gag) oh and someone crying (gagggg). Someone always cries.

I usually make it a point to plan my relationships around today; either I wait until afterward to start a relationship or right before to end it.

This year however I'm going against my own grain and dating someone (who I have no complaints about). Typically I would spend the day working and in the evening at the barn with the only man in my life who's always been there for me with open ears and slobbery kisses.

This year I'll come home to (ah, yes, I'm working until seven am) a man in my house and my other man in my backyard. Well, two men in my house really. I can't forget my new little man, Tank.

I'm no good at days like this. I'm no good at feelings. I'm no good at gifts that mean something and I'm no good at "moments". Aside from something scandalous and red, I didn't get anything. I didn't plan anything.

I have this innate fear of anyone leaving a permanent mark in my life. I talked about this to my room mate last night. I don't have anyone saved on speed dial (short of parentals because like it or not, they're here to stay). I guess it's my way of preparing and protecting myself or when they do leave. Only it's fermented over the years (and my romantic history really didn't help this) into this overwhelming fear that makes me lock my breaks up at simple things. Meaningless things. Metastasizing. Inhibiting my already handicapped ability to divulge anything of real substance. Feelings. Nightmares. Questions. They whole nine-yards.

Hello issues,
I have you. Lots and lots of you.

Goodbye crack of dawn, Goodbye harvester and goodbye hello baby after a long hard day of plowing dirt,

Homer, Alaska
16th of July 2009
0200am

I was running by myself to escape the nightmares. To escape everything really. Phone broken, roads empty, ipod full.


My heart pounding, asics slipping on the rocks, I couldn't tell the difference between my sweat and the mist of rain. I spent most of the trip alone. Exploring. Thinking. Shutting out everything from home except for my journal.

2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,
"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?,
I don't love him. Winter just wasn't my season"
Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize,
Hypocrites. You're all here for the very same reason

'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe


It's eighteen past midnight on a Friday and I'm spooning with my (snoring) dog.
I'm a real catch, I swear.

"I don't come with no disclaimer, I'm like everybody else
we keep our demons on the burner and our morals on the shelf."

It's been a long week to say the least.

I think what I remember most about was how beautiful the sunset was over the barracks. The cold was bitter and it's bite stung my face. Our breath sifted into the air like smoke and my fingers were stiff. We talked about trivial things while he smoked a cigarette. All of us knowing we were really just stalling, pretending for even a moment that goodbye's weren't hanging over our heads and our hearts.

I've always liked the smell of cigarettes in the cold, and now it reminds me of him.

We hugged tightly, "last one for the road", about three times.

We stood there as we watched him walk away. Tall, hunched over (like always), in his combat boots and uniform. Hennis embroidered on his pocket and chest. We watched until he disappeared onto the stairwell and our eyes were satisfied he was gone.

It was a long drive home. I closed my eyes but only drifted off for twenty minutes.

As I opened the gate to my place I felt anxious. What if he didn't notice I was gone? what if he was indifferent to my return? what if he didn't realize our relationship?

God, was I actually this concerned over what a dog thought of me? I have issues.

I took a breath and walked in,
He knocked me over and licked my face. I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face into his neck. I had less than two hours before I had to leave for work and there wasn't a chance I was sleeping.

I wrote him like I promised I would and I'd be lying if I wasn't embarrassed for myself by how tween I am being right now waiting for a response. God, I must be masochistic chasing after a guy under these circumstances. Lack of emotional attachment. Just being fawned over by gorgeous.

I left for work, returned home fourteen hours later, slept for four, went back to work and returned sixteen hours later.

I'm giving up utensils for religious purposes.

It's after midnight and I can't stop sneezing. I detest sneezing on a whole different level because when I sneeze I simultaneously cough and that's just not pleasant.

I have a serious question; do electric toothbrushes fuck your game up too? They make my nose itch like no body's business. I mean it's really intolerable so I can't use them.

God, I'm weird.


Went to the gym (kill me) tonight and ran on the treadmill (please, kill me). Put it on the "5k" setting, got some coughing out of my system and spent the next twenty something minutes staring at myself run. The gym here is the size of a Motel 6 hotel room with mirrors on three sides. The remaining wall has a window to the lobby where all the people stumbling in can see me run... from behind. Now tell me they didn't set the gym up like that on accident...

I don't know about you but I really don't like to see myself run. I'm leggy and I look like some sort of giraffe or deer. Plus I start to see just how stupid I look when I mouth song lyrics and play imaginary drum solo's (In the Air Tonight). God, I'm really weird.

I did notice I need new running shoes and mother of god my legs are long.

I was talking bikes tonight with someone. I'm sized for a person about two to four inches taller than me because of these pups. Like, I think this is on the verge of "fucking weird" and I'm a little self conscious about it now.

This guy came in (I hate people but I really hate people when I'm running in place and locked in a mirrored room with them), he looked like LLCool J who looks exactly like the Teenage Mutant Turtles who happen to be my favorite characters growing up (and still are). I had their poster and went to the lengths of renaming them "the Kalabunga's" because I was too young (and inpatient) to say Teenage Mutant Turtles.

It kind of made my night. Then I noticed he had tube socks on and I died a little on the inside. Just a little.

I'm online shopping for a bigger bookshelf. Mine is crammed full as it is. This is bad.

I'm in an odd mood. I should have been upset about that. I should have I don't know been hurt but I really wasn't and that's kind of concerning. I have the urge to aimlessly wander around. It's like ten degree's outside and if there's a place that I'm going to get picked up and raped at, it's probably this place. Testosterone hits you like a brick wall as soon as you get to the city limits and lets face it, I can be kind of cute sometimes.

I miss my boys. I miss my big and slightly less big "kids". I miss their smell and the stupid looks on their faces when they see me. I can't wait to have candybar in my own barn and Tank next to me in my own bed. Because they're going to be my crutch when all of this eventually comes falling down.

On a completely different note, I need sponsors. So I'm going to shamelessly promote myself for the next few minutes...

I'm doing a triathlon in the spring (three actually). The entry fee's on one alone is one-hundred dollars. This doesn't include gas or hotel (or gear) but that's not what I want money for. I'm a "charity athlete" raising money for St. Jude's Children's Hospital. They're giving me my own web page for people to donate on and everything. I'll post it when I get it.
Please folks, it's for the kids
and some kickass apparel/gift bag for me.

5k run, hundreds of leg presses with somewhere around 80lbs (I'm still sick and taking it easy), leg crosses, 400 sit ups. I can't sleep. I didn't do enough.

When are you going to wake up and fight?

I'm in North Carolina, freezing. Spending time with my broski before he deploys.



I'm too rebellious for my own good.




(925): I just found a beer bottle in my xmas tree while disassembling it. God, I'm going to miss the holidays.

(914): Never have I ever before welcomed her period with such enthusiasm. She was starting to pick out baby names. She got me "What to Expect When You're Expecting."

(201): he was pretty good aside from the whole putting his tongue on my butt thing

(416): He's a firefighter, who has his own band. I'm pregnant just thinking about him.

(330): I was just texting to see if your vagina was working yet.

(201): we were holding hands throwing up into the same garbage can; if thats not true love i dont know what is .

(404): there's got to be a less slutty way to tell him the baby isn't his

(336): This house was built for laser tag.

... I think I've said enough.