My Intruiguing Life: Version 3.20.13

Remember back in January when I wrote this post? WELL, you're in for a treat because a) I'm sick today and b) I have writer's block, so I thought to myself, "Self, what better way to kickstart something besides the Veronica Mars Movie than to write another Intriguing Life post?"

So here you go.
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Currently: On my couch.

Current books: Royal Flush, A Royal Spyness Mystery by Rhys Bowen (don't judge, clowns -- sometimes a lady just needs some fluff reading, amiright?); The South Beach Diet by Arthur Agatston, M.D. (more on that in a minute).

Current music: The solid 18-hour "We Heart the 90s" playlist that Katie and created on Spotify a few weeks ago.

Bring me back to TRL, why don't you?

Current guilty pleasure: The Vampire Diaries. I'm halfway through Season One and, thanks to all of your tweets encouraging me to stick it out, I am finally hooked. Ian Somerhalder can bite me any time. 

Current nail color: Naked. I hate having naked nails (I'm a barely reformed biter -- so gross), but it turns out that my funky eye allergies might actually have been caused by polish, so I have to dare to bare for the moment.

Current drink: So much water that I'm surprised I haven't transfigured myself into some kind of marine mammal by now, McGonagall-style. I was a little ... underhydrated?... over the course of the weekend and am playing catchup now.

Water, water, everywhere.... I've probably managed to drink this much water, yes.

Current food: Eggs. I can't get enough of them lately. Thankfully, the FDA took them off their shtlist again, but I'm still sticking with 'beaters for the most part (who am I kidding, the only reason I use eggbeaters is because it's too hard to transport and cook real eggs at work!).

Current favorite show: 30 Rock, which Andrew and I started over from the beginning almost immediately after the series finale aired; Pretty Little Liars because the season finale is tonight and there will be hell to pay if they are mirroring the books; Castle because Nathan Fillion is hot; Shark Tank because I have no life and do my long runs on Saturday mornings, so I might as well spend my Friday nights watching poor people squeeze money out of rich people.

Current wish list: So easy -- to go back on vacation! NYC this time around was even more fun than I expected. I've been stalking deal sites to try to plan a quick weekend getaway either with Andrew or one of my gal pals. Any suggestions?

Current needs: The same as last time -- more sleep! I've gotten an exorbitant amount of Zs over the past 36 hours, but I still can't seem to get enough. Also, I need for the two pounds I've jumped up over the past two days to fall back off, because I was all set to add fruit back into my life and now I'm stuck in Phase 1 for an extra two days, courtesy of St. Patrick.

In case the complexion wasn't enough, I thought I should broadcast my heritage on my shirt.

Current triumphs: I ran my first race since last year's injury, which is a triumph of sorts. Sure, it was my slowest 5k time ever and I was disappointed for a hot minute once the results posted, but then I reminded myself that a little less than a year ago I was in a walking boot and physical therapy, then patted myself on the back (Also, I'm down more pounds than days I've been dieting, so that's a win).

Current bane of my existence: Is of my own doing: disorganization. I need like an hour alone with a notebook and a really great pen so that I can make a bunch of lists so I can focus my attention where it needs to be, rather than being distracted by the 40,000 ideas/thoughts floating around my brain.

Current celebrity crush: Rob Thomas. Actually, BOTH Rob Thomases, because I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my beloved Veronica Mars is FINALLY going to receive the ending it deserved.Oh, and Ian Somerhalder, as previously noted... like Chase Crawford, only less cradle-robby.

Current indulgence: 1/2c ricotta cheese with a dash of vanilla extract and a half tablespoon of slivered almonds. I haven't missed dessert once! Also, on a beauty level, I'm considering splurging on this Macadamia Oil that I received in my March Birchbox -- OBSESSED. I've used it twice and both times, even my second-day hair looked like it had been blown out that morning.

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Current blessing: My darling and wonderful boyfriend.

Current slang: Nothing too offensive -- although as I type this, I'm listening to "No Scrubs" by TLC (thank you, 90s playlist), and I really think it's a term that needs to make a comeback. I've noticed a recent uptick in the amount of people attempting to holla at ladies on the street -- they hide under the guise of hipster, but perhaps we should just call them what they are: carless scrubs. 

Current outfit: It's a lovely shade of, "wintery mix" here in Boston, so I'm scrubbed out in Forever 21 jeggings, a fuchsia cowl-neck tee, a loooooong drapey sweater and black flats.

Current excitement: Andrew and I are hosting a brunch at our place on Saturday for some friends -- also known as, "the daycation kickoff party." The last time we all daycated, we ended up doing karaoke, so here's hoping the party is the smashing intro everyone hopes it will be!

Current mood: So bummed out about this weather. It's a mood that my baby brother, G-Unit, refers to as, "awww draaaaps!" which Andrew and I appropriated for ourselves because, really, what is funnier than a three-year-old thinking that, "drat" is pronounced, "draps" and then whining it whenever things don't go his way?

Current link: www.newyorker.com -- My stepmother makes fun of my dad and me for reading The New Yorker on a regular basis, but I've been doing it since I was ten and I still maintain that you would be hard-pressed to find a periodical with such consistently provocative, yet well-informed, articles. I love it.

Freddie Mercury Would Have Been Proud

I purposely didn't mention that I was going on vacation last week for safety reasons (it's a small island, and it's local, and I have a pretty bad habit of picking up creep-stalkers, you understand). I DID, however, have the intention of blogging while I was away -- but my vacation became a bit of a Hellcation, and I barely had time to breathe, let alone blog. You know how it is. Rather than write one long, glossy-over post about the trials and tribulations of my week, I thought I'd break it up a bit. Starting... now.

I left work on Friday the 17th with big plans to relax, write, read and rest for the next glorious nine days. After, of course, I continued to party like a rock star with one of my besties, Leah, and Andrew as we celebrated the Boston Bruins' domination of the 2011 Stanley Cup.

Weeeee are the Championssss

We braved the massive crowds to partake in the fun. I went to the Red Sox Championship Parade in 2004 back when I was in college, but I missed out on all three of the Patriots, the Sox 2007 and the Celtics parades, so I was excited to get in on the action!

Despite all of these people, a riot did NOT ensue. 

Having gone to a school that had a bit of an issue with rioting after sporting events (if you want a hint as to where, we like iced fish and our unofficial motto was, "Stay Classy, Not U-Massy"), my heart really went out to all of the good people of Vancouver whose names were besmirched by a couple of tactless idiots following the Cup Final. Seriously, people? IT'S HOCKEY. No one should have to worry about being STABBED over a game. Unless, of course, that game is Crazy Eights, in which case, Iwillcutyou.

That being said, I was very impressed with the crowds here in Boston both after the win and during the parade. Yes, there were a lot of hammered people wandering the streets, but they were throwing high-fives instead of molatov cocktails and starting USA chants in-between verses of Queen. On Parade Day, there were over a million people jammed into the equivalent of a 5k course, and I saw nary a fight (though the chest hair was bountiful). Leah and I took this opportunity to enjoy some totally sober ice-cold lemonade:

Hello, creepy man!

As the parade drew near, we were getting pretty amped about seeing some of our favorites. And by we, I mean me and Andrew, because Leah had no idea that hockey wasn't played on a field or in a skirt (I know you're reading, bf, and I love you anyway). Upon seeing the following, she was pretty impressed that the caliber of hotness far exceeded that of our grimy high school hockey team, and was marginally better than the crew found in the brothel known as the Hockey House in our little college town:

Exhibit A: Shawn "My Biceps Are the Size of Your Thighs" Thornton

Exhibit B: Brad "Little Ball of Hate" Marchand

Exhibit C: Marc "Concussed But Still Hot" Savard

As you can see, the hits just kept on coming. It's amazing how they really DON'T all look like clones, once those helmets come off!

It took about 2.5 hours in the blazing hot sun for the parade to finally make its way to us, pass us, and inevitably leave us. By that time, we were parched, starving and had sunscreen literally melting off of our faces, so we followed the massive crowd down Comm Ave to Kenmore, where I indulged in the biggest steak burrito I've ever seen. Boca Grande may not be Chipotle, but it was there, it was air conditioned and, most importantly, it had a place to pee.

So that was good.

We hopped the T back to our place, where Leah bid us adieu and I commenced to cram as many material items as possible into an overnight roly-duffle suitcase and beach bag, much to Andrew's amusement. Let's just say that I won't be posting any "How To Pack For A Six-Day Vacation" guides anytime in the near future.

And with that, we were off!

To Be Continued....

One if By Land, Two if By Sea

Thanks so much for all of your sweet comments, tweets and emails about Friday's confession -- I'm so glad that there are other people out there that feel the same way I do about taking a stand against what is, it seems, a totally accepted form of bullying. I'm happy to say that I made "The Kirstie Factor" a mantra throughout my weekend, not just for weight-related anxieties (which only plague me occasionally), but any time that I needed that extra boost of confidence and daring and "Don't like it? Tough sh*t!". (I'll be writing about that tomorrow!). So again, I say, thanks, Kirstie!

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As you may or may not have heard, yesterday was the 115th running of the Boston Marathon. It's possible to have missed my obsession with  love of this event, but what may surprise you is that I have actually only attended the race twice: this year and last year.

Growing up north of the border (Live Free of Sales Tax or Die!), I obviously never got school off on Patriots' Day. Actually, like the majority of the country, I didn't even know it was a real holiday -- just that my cousins, etc. that still lived in Boston got it off, and that the Boston Marathon was the same day. My dad, a proud BC alum, kept promising to let all five of us skip school to come down and cheer from Heartbreak Hill, but between the divorce and a bit of an attendance problem with my other siblings, we never did get to go.

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My first two years here in Boston, despite living within "hear the crowd roar" distance of BC and Cleveland Circle, I opted to skip the festivities. Most of my friends lived in Somerville and didn't get the whole "trek into the city to watch a bunch of people run" thing, and I didn't want to deal with the hassle. The first year, I just stayed home by myself in pajamas. All. Day. Long. The second, I actually FORGOT about the Marathon, until I ran outside and duck-and-covered under our patio table because 4 fighter jets flew so low over my apartment towards downtown that I was convinced we were under attack (You should be in my office during a ceremonial flyover -- they literally pass our windows. It's insane and awesome).

The only Jets you ever want to see at Gillette (Pats Home Opener 2010)

Last year, however, Andrew decided that enough was enough, and it was time that I finally experienced the legendary Boston Marathon properly. We went to the Sox game, and through his connections, we ended up upgraded to the Monster, which is always a treat. Everyone always says, "Oh, I wouldn't want to be up there, since you can't really see any left field plays." I know, because I used to be one of them, and I'm here to tell you it's total BS. The Monster is the Monster, and once you're up there, you're thanking the baseball Gods for the experience. Or taking photos of the Patriots in full regalia, and spying on the marathon at Kenmore through the chain-link fence between plays.

After the game, we headed down to Kenmore to meet up with some friends at the One-Mile To Go marker. Since we went to the game, we caught the middle of the pack. Talk about inspirational -- I remember turning to Andrew and saying, "Seriously, if I took off running RIGHT NOW for the finish line, I'm 99% sure these people, who have already run 25.2 miles, would beat me to Copley."

Of course, it might have been the 7-11 cups and the bag of Fraaaanzia (whoever named box o'wine with such an elegant name deserves a medal) in our friend's purse talking. Or the lubrication that comes with an 11:00am Red Sox game. Either way, it was then that I vowed to run my first 5k by year's end (which I did, on December 4th!). But I can say with certainty that I would have teared up at the soldiers who make the trek with their rucksacks without it (I was screaming, "THANK YOU!!" between choking back sobs this year, too, and I was 100% adult-soda free).

A true Patriot, indeed.

After the pack thinned out, we joined our friends on an impromptu pub crawl of the Fenway. We went to the Cantina for lunch, where we eventually got kicked out because we were on the patio afterward and, apparently, there's a law that you have to have food in front of you to be on the patio while drinking. We moved the party to Jerry Remy's, more beer was consumed, hilarious stories were told, new friends were made.

Then, after leaving there, one of our pals, who is about 6'5 (I might be exaggerating) and very openly gay, suggested we hit up the Machine, a gay bar across the street. As the straight male of the group, everyone turned to Andrew, who yelled, "BUCKET LIST!" while fist-pumping, and we therefore made our way over and had a fabulous time sipping cosmos (our friend wanted us to get the "stereotypical full-effect"; it was awesome. Just wanted to clarify in case anyone was offended or anything). I had my picture taken in the unisex bathroom with an Adam Lambert look-a-like, and found out that hair cement really is JUST like it sounds (I wish I had the picture).

[Source]

Funny story -- somewhere along the pub crawl, I realized that I kept getting all these high-fives from people, and that I kept getting handed beers along with those high-fives. It wasn't until I was in that bathroom that I caught sight of myself in a mirror, and remembered that at the Cantina, I had found a Marathon number discarded on the floor and pinned it to my Sox shirt. My free beer was a direct result of the level of BadAss everyone thought I was for partying like a rock star after running 26.2. (Hello, my name is Caitie, and my ongoing shin splint problems are probably punishment from the running Gods for my blasphemy).

So yeah, that was last year.

THIS year, I've apparently matured as a person, because after watching the beginning of the BM coverage at home (am I the only one who was pissed off that WBZ chose the middle of THE NATIONAL ANTHEM to interview Ryan Hall? Seriously. It's America on Patriots' Day, people. Have some respect), I set out to meet up with Katie in Kenmore Square (the scene of last year's crime) right when the elite women hit the half-mark. Honestly, we timed it perfectly -- about 25 minutes after we got our spot (right on the fence), this came onto the horizon:

2:16:19 -- you can see it on the regular-sized photo!

We went nuts -- at the time, we still didn't know that Kim Smith had pulled out with calf cramps, so we were expecting her to be first. I got this awesome photo of the neck-and-neck race for first between Caroline Kilel and Desiree Davida.

Neck-and-neck until the finish -- a mere 2 seconds separated them!

And you better believe I screamed "GO KARA!!!" as loud as I could when Kara Goucher ran RIGHT PAST US. She heard me and smiled!!!

Can we discuss how this woman had a baby a few months ago?!

My camera memory card filled up right after that, and I ironically missed taking photos of the men, and Ryan Hall, because I was busy deleting off the photos of the 5k Katie and I ran back in March. Somehow, it seemed slightly trivial when these ridiculous runners were pounding out world records and completing a full Mary in the time it takes most of us to run a half! We also saw the famous Joan Benoit Samuelson, which was amazing. Then Katie left to catch her train, and I stayed to cheer on more of the runners.

Once my friend CC's cousin-in-law passed me at Kenmore, I decided to head back towards BC because a friend of mine had just passed the half mark. She was in the third wave, so I knew I could catch her if I hit the D line to Cleveland Circle. I made it, and though I didn't manage to spot her in the sea of runners, I know she DID indeed pass me while I was there, and I had a great time watching drunken buffoons getting wrestled by cops when they managed to jump the barriers and get onto the course.

All in all, I spent a good 3 hours alone, cheering for random strangers, calling out the names of those who looked like they were struggling and high-fiving runners with massive grins on their faces.

But more on that tomorrow.

With that said, CONGRATULATIONS to all of the runners yesterday -- you're all winners, and not in a Charlie Sheen kind-of-way. And to those of you across the country still riding the high of this acclaimed athletic event and, like me, are wondering if you've got what it takes to do it , I have two words:

BAA Half.

Gotta start somewhere, right?!