Sometimes I Just Don't Care: Story of a Ging

I'm in a mood tonight where I just don't care. Maybe it's because Zumba was cancelled. Now I'm just in a funk. And a drink hasn't been made for me. Nor have I gotten up for one. Must be because my laptop is heavy. On my lap.

We're watching a Mongolian movie tonight where this little 9-year-old boy is choosing his wife. His wife! HIS WIFE! What the heck? At 9, I was out playing baseball with my siblings, using paper plates as bases, a wiffle bat, and having to help my Brother jump the fence for the ball when we'd hit a "homer." This kid is choosing his destiny. WTF?

And of course, I'm all upset because...women aren't just pieces of meat. I mean, they were back then. But thank goodness, I live in the modern times where I have the ability to earn my own paycheck/insurance/shopping sprees.

Wook says this is all a figment of my imagination and he's going to pee on me to claim his territory. Awesome. Better go get a jelly fish sting first.

I had a nightmare I woke up at 9am this morning. I had an event at 8am, so I was in at 7am. Ya, that was a fun slight panic at 4:15am this morning.

Oh, but good news amidst my funk. They're adding a 2nd day to Zumba for the week (sound familiar, Mommy McD?). Yay me.

And another good point. Less than 2 weeks until this Half Marathon is over. I'm nervous/excited/anticipatory/panicky. I just want to know what we signed ourselves up for is something we'll surpass and overcome. And will this be a wise decision for use to incorporate a Half Marathon in each of our yearly reunions?

Wook just made me a vodka tonic up. Seriously? But where's my lemon wedge? ;)

I'm signing up for an 8K in June for the weekend after Tracer's graduation. And the kicker? It's 4 blocks from my front door. Awesome. But thank goodness the race isn't actually on my street. That'd be one angry Ging. I'd be Redneck Ging. Polishing Mr. Wookie's shotgun, yelling at people to get off my door stoop.

I get to be in at 9am tomorrow. Yay for that.

Sometimes I feel like my blog has no real point to it. I'm not some 20-something who goes out partying every night and walk-of-shaming every morning. I'm not a fitness guru. I'm just a girl, who lives far from her family, has plenty of friends around the country (and Austria!), and gets into stupid shit sometimes. Or goes out drinking on a Friday because that's the only day that fits into her running schedule as an "off" day.

That gets me thinking. These people who claim to relate to Marshall and Lilly from How I Met Your Mother. Umm, let's ask the all-important question? Did you wait 9 years to get engaged? No. Well then you're not Marshall and Lilly.

With that, Mr. Wookie and I are on our way. That and Lilly is a Ging. Dude, do I need to make it any more obvious? Minus Mr. Wookie is not a lawyer, doesn't have the nickname of Vanilla Thunder, and isn't from Minnesooooota. Instead, he's a Navy Jr. Lt., has the nickname of Chef-Boy-yar-Wookie, and hails from California/Pennsylvania/Texas/Louisiana/Guam/anywhere else he grew up.

I seriously can't recall how the idea of running a Half Marathon came to be a "good idea."

Wow, that's a stiff drink. I'm only halfway done. But halfway to happy.

I'm pretty sure I could live in a yurt. I really think I'm a hippie that OD'd at Woodstock and then came back as a terrorizing Ging in the modern day. No wonder I have the longing/yearning for the late 1960's. They were my time. And the best time for music, cars, clothes, and drugs.

Not that I do drugs. Or have done. Minus ol' fashioned liquor. We're great friends.

For those who don't know, my vacation time was approved for Middle Sister's college graduation. You know what that means! Oregon. 5 days. Great beer. Awesome town. Best school colors. Lots of sunscreen. One boring ass commencement ceremony. Totally worth it.

And now it's past 10pm. And this Mongolian movie is still going on. But my drink's almost empty. And my computer's running low. So time to shut her down and power her up. And fill up my drink and power that down. Hey-yo!