We made it...

...to San Francisco and back. The trip was mostly fun and only slightly stressful, though in my opinion we didn't get to see nearly enough of what I would consider the "big" version of Seattle (with less tattoos and more homeless people, it seems.)

The show was cool (I always love to see people singing along and the gussied-up girls trying to get as close to the stage as possible) and there definitely seems to be a younger Turkish crowd there than I've seen so far in Seattle. They even had raki available at the bar - a very nice touch, but I may never drink the stuff again.

All in all, we did get to visit Chinatown, the Fisherman's Wharf and historic piers, Ghiradelli Square, Haight/Ashbury and I brought home some cute little souvenirs for me, the Madre and my best homegirls without making myself broke for the last 2 weeks of the month. The weather was mostly cooperative, I had a great time taking photos of graffiti and I swear I'll visit the Tonga Room when I go back.

The hits keep coming.

So, Bear has a confirmed show on September 11th which = no Alyson's birthday celebration.

I originally wanted to do something memorable for my 30th, instead I'm going to bury my head in the sand and pretend it doesn't exist. I know I could arrange something, but I can't seem to find the enthusiasm to plan an event where I am compromising what I want to work around their show and I wouldn't feel right doing it on that Saturday anyway and leaving them out. If anything, I'll treat myself to a spa day and celebrate with a massage - I could definitely use it these days...

Because now, after a month of psyching myself up for a trip to SF for another show (and RSVPing as a "no" for a once-a-year-event that I was incredibly sad to have to miss as well as missing out on a much awaited and anticipated Barcelona show that is now SOLD OUT), clearing time off from work, dropping $$ getting my "goin' to SF haircut" yesterday and scheduling my entire week around preparing for the departing flight this Friday afternoon, Bear tells me we may not be going.

I basically won't find out until the day before I need to pack whether or not I'll be flying to San Francisco this weekend. As much as I love my boyfriend, this shit is giving me an ulcer and a complex.

Who needs it anyway?

Trying to plan my 30th birthday is driving me so crazy at the moment that I am incredibly tempted to let the day pass just like any other.

Up until the past week I had been almost excited about it's arrival and now I basically hang my head in defeat, moments from crying in frustration. On the day I intended to send out invites for a small gathering the 2nd weekend of September, I had a disagreement with a few close friends that left me reeling and questioning the ultimate future of those friendships.

At that point, I said to myself (and my boyfriend):"Fuck 'em - I'm going to (adult) Disneyland (aka Vegas)." Being the sweet boyfriend that he is, he said "anything you want aşkim," even though in fact it turned out to be likely that I would be getting nothing but a damn headache.

A few days later MM (MaSKott's Manager) tells me that they are working on another show in Seattle for that weekend. Sooo, my birthday gets bumped and I start looking at other travel dates. Then a few days after that I realize that tickets are just plain out of my budget, since I am saving to move in a few months. So, bummed once again, I try to start planning something small in town. Though it's almost a month away, it's a busy travel season and my friends can occasionally be hard to pin down (and I'm a Virgo - it just plain stresses me out to not be able to plan my shiz in advance.)

Still waiting on word about the show, my choices are basically limited to 2 things that aren't really what I originally wanted to do (Saturday picnic in the park - sounds lovely, right? Friends, sandwiches, sun, maybe a little badminton or volley ball?): I can have a dinner party on a Friday after I spend the whole day working then would have to rush to get ready and fight traffic to the Island and pray that it's not a huge hassle for my friends (along with a few other logistical issues,) or do a picnic on Sunday and pray that I have fun but that I'm also in decent enough condition on to work on Monday, which is typically my busiest and most stressful day (and one I cannot take off.) And then there's the precarious "invitation situation..."

At this point, I'd rather do absolutely nothing than worry about it anymore. That means I get to stay 29, right??

*headdesk*

Oh, sweet frustration!

I am one stinkin' mile away from the Green Level at the Nike Running website. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this uber helpful and motivating site (which is, like, all of you, I'm sure) the levels break down as follows:

"Nike+ Levels is a new way to recognize the total distance you’ve achieved since joining Nikerunning.com.
There are six Levels that correspond to total kilometers run:

Yellow (0-49km, 0-30mi)
Orange (50-249km, 31-154mi)
Green (250-999km, 155-620mi)
Blue (1,000-2,499km, 621-1552mi)
Purple (2,500-4,999km, 1553-3106mi)
Black (over 5000km or 3107mi)

As you move from one Level to another, we will recognize your achievements in different ways. Look for your color to follow you through the features in Nikerunning.com, updating your entire profile as you reach new Levels."

So, I can't honestly ever imagine ever making it to the Black Level in this lifetime but I've been pretty darn excited to move into Green, partially because I am not a fan of the color orange.

In the past month of training 3+ times a week I've run my fastest mile (10' 24") and dropped my average pace more than a minute, my booty is finally starting to lift, my calves are getting too big for my skinny jeans (and some knee-high socks) and I've GAINED 5 FREAKIN' POUNDS. Oy. Admittedly, most of this has to be from my increased appetite and the resurgence of an "excessive nocturnal overeating" issue I've dealt with in the past, but it leaves me not feeling as accomplished as I should be feeling. I've hit goals I set and I keep piling on the miles and it would be really nice to see a reduction in inches, not an increase.

Starting today (and lasting at least until my upcoming trip to SF if not indefinitely,) crackers and chips are not welcome in my home (Wheat THINS, my ass!) and I'm taking my cross training days and nutrition more seriously. I can change my body, dammit. I'm not gonna kill myself trying to get skinny, but I can try harder to be in better shape.

At least my 4 mile run tonight will put me into that pretty pretty Green level I have been coveting for the past 55 miles.