Five years later...

My aunt told me something once and it really stuck - one day you'll look in the mirror and think, who is this person staring back at me? Because I certainly only feel 21 years old... So maybe I'm not that far off from 21, but man has the time flown the past five years.

Five years ago this month I packed my stuff up from my parents house in Arlington, and moved down to this heat and humidity filled sauna. Moving in August in Houston may not have been the brightest idea, but alas, it's what I did. I moved into my first place that I would live in all by myself. A one bedroom apartment. All mine. I wasn't quite sure how I felt about that yet, considering I lived with some great girls during college, but I figured it would atleast keep the distractions low for when I needed to focus on that law stuff. I knew a handful of people in Houston (two of which were related to me). And I could not locate the nearest grocery store, CVS, or target. I definitely wasn't in Waco anymore.

Five years ago this week, I attended law school orientation. I remember walking up to the law school, and thinking, what have I gotten myself into. I didn't know a soul. The law school building was, for lack of  a better word, ugly, and there was a strange "thinking" man statue out front. I remember thinking - this is really where I am about to spend 3 years of my life? Really? It wasn't the picturesque red brick buildings and green lawns of my college years. So maybe I was being a bit superficial, can you blame me? Despite my feelings, I was generally excited/nervous about the years that lay ahead of me. What did these three years hold for me? I was about to find out...I checked in, received a name badge, "section B" tag, and told to go stand over there.

Way back in the day...

Another oldie but a goodie (college roomie Sarah!)

Lainey's wedding.

Five years later, I'm now a second year, almost third year attorney, I survived law school, met a boy and fell in love, changed hair color multiple times, and made some amazing friends (many of whom I met that day five years ago). And I now know more than a handful of people in this humid city by the bayous.

My birthday this past May.

I wouldn't do anything different the last five years (okay, maybe a few things, but those aren't blog topics). I like where I am now, who I am now (still a little rough around the edges, but that's okay), and what I've done with my life.

I can't wait to see what the next five years hold for me.

Half crazy...

I'm now officially signed up to run not one, but TWO half marathons! That's a full marathon if you put the two together! Back in May, I signed up for the San Antonio Half, which is in November. I've been training for that race since May, this past Saturday I ran my first ever 7 miles (without walking). I was proud of myself, considering 8 months ago I couldn't run half a mile. I'm pretty sure after the run on Saturday every inch of me was pouring sweat, thank you Houston heat + humidity.


Anyways, back to the point of this post - two weeks ago I signed up for the Houston Half lottery (it's so popular that they did a lottery system this year for people to run in it). I found out today that I made the cut! So, I'll be officially running the 2011 Houston Half in January!! I'm pumped! So here are my races to look forward to -

First: San Antonio Rock n Roll Half Marathon in NOVEMBER.

Second: Aramco Houston Half Marathon in JANUARY.

Let the training continue!

Training this week:

Monday: Rest
Tuesday: 3 miles
Wednesday: Cross
Thursday: 4 miles
Friday: 3 miles

Saturday: 8 miles (I'll be lounging on the lake on Saturday, so this will more likely be Sunday...)
If you have any good training ideas, or cross training ideas (i'm really bad about that), let me know!
Also - I need to start ingesting protein stuff when I run, I tried the gel stuff when I did the MS150, and it made me want to vomit, so any helpful ideas on gels/protein stuff that is quasi tasty?

Overdramatic, that's me.

I can be overdramatic. But this time I'm really trying not to be. And, part of me thinks that I'm not. But that part gets kind of clouded by the part that is being over dramatic. What exactly am I blabbering on about? My finger. As you read in a post a few posts ago, a week ago last monday, I almost sliced the tip of my pinky finger clean off. It takes talent. Well, I didn't go to the ER. Maybe I should have. But I have my ex-ER nurse sister who took care of it.

Where does the being over-dramatic part come in? Oh it still stinkin hurts. And I'm not sure if I was being over-dramatic this morning when I couldn't bend the finger, so I called my internist this morning, and spoke with the nurse. She informed me that my own doctor had just done the same thing a month back and it took THREE weeks for it to feel normal again. Which, I guess is confirmation in and of itself that I'm not being over dramatic. Did I mention that I can't bend my finger at the top joint? Yea apparently that's what happens if you don't bend your joints for a week, they lock up. Who knew? Did I mention that my finger is swollen too? Yea, because it is. Apparently fluid accumulates in the other tissue when it can't accumulate in the ... well other tissue. Who knew? Not me...they don't teach you about fluid accumulation in law school.

So, in case you were thinking to yourself today - hm, I wonder how Sara's finger is? Well its about the same as it was last week. The only thing that's changed is that I'm pretty sure I will have a numb pinky finger tip for the rest of my life, (if things continue to feel the way they felt this morning) and I think I successfully didn't cut the skin off too much, so that its re-attaching itself, which is a nice thought.

I can tell you one thing though - I'm getting pretty tired of holding my pink up in the air as if I was sipping tea 24 hours a day. I'm giving people the wrong impression that I do have manners.

Excuse the blurriness - taken on the 'ole iPhone 3GS (sooo outdated, I know).

So, am I being overdramatic? The question remains...

SaranoH

I love my name. Don't get me wrong. But it's given me more than a few headaches in my life. Who knew a 4 letter word could do so wrong. My parents obviously picked my name. I'm named after my grandma, whose name was Phyllis. She told my mom to never name a daughter Phyllis, but she loved the name Sara. So, here I am. My parents thought they made life easy for me when they named me Sara. My dad likes to tell the story that he contemplated naming me Sandy, if you know my last name, well then you know why that's funny.

Why, is a name such as Sara, so hard? Because of the other spelling of Sara, the one with the H - you know what I'm talking about..

For as long as I can remember, I have received the following responses (true stories) when I tell someone my name -

"Is that Sara with an H or without?"

"Oh, your name is Sara(h), how do you spell that?" Me: "No H", "Oh, well my aunts second cousin's mom's name has an H on the end...and she's kind of weird, so its a good thing you have no H" or "Oh my boyfriend's mom's sister has no H and she's awesome". Me: "well thanks?"

"So, your name is Saranoh"...? Me: "Sure" ... ten seconds later receive a piece of paper with my name spelled as "Saranoh", go figure.

In any case, I love my name. Like I said. But I'll forever be "Sara - no - H", and well I guess I'm fine with that, because I am named after Phyllis, who I've been told was an amazing person. And, well atleast it gave me an inspiration for a title for my blog..

FNL

I have a new obsession - Friday Night Lights, the tv show, not the movie. It is currently streaming on netflix. I watched the first three seasons in less than a week. I'm horribly addicted to this show. I love the characters, that its set in Texas and deals with our obssessions with football in this great state, and is very relatable. I know I am about 4 years late on the bandwagon, and I'm not sure why I was hesitant to watch it before. Because all I can say is that it is by far my favorite show on tv right now. Period.

I pulled a Julia Child

Last night, I made my first Julia Child recipe soup ever. It was easy and I have to say very tasty - I made the potato and onion soup (I know there is probably a catchier french word for it), its the first recipe of the book, I strive for difficulty, what can I say.

But that's not what this post is about - this post is about my finger. My pinky to be exact. Have you seen Julie and Julia (the movie, not the people)? If you have - you know in the movie where they show an SNL clip of Dan Akroyd (you may have actually seen this clip other than in the J/J movie) - well that was me, last night. Except there wasn't quite as much blood flow, although there was a lot. I sliced the tip of my left pinky finger almost clear off the tip of my left pinky finger. Ouch. I was doing what any good cook would do - cutting a baguette with a sharp knife over the sink with my hand on the other side, and what do you know, my finger got up in the mess. It wanted to be a part of the slicing I suppose. Knife lessons anyone? In any case, after a frantic phone call to my sister (the ER nurse) and my mom (the retired gyno nurse), I wrapped the pinky in a bandage, bag of ice, and towel, and sat with my hand above my head for the rest of the night. The pinky was throbbing, and still is, as I type this (its difficult to type with no pinky I tell ya what). No worries though, I'm alive and survived the pinky slaughter of 2010. Next time I'll move my finger out of the way.

Here's a pic of the finger in the splint:

And ... here's a pic of the finger the morning after the slaughter of 2010 (its gross so don't look if you vomit at the sight of blood):

Pack em up, move em out.

I. hate. moving. But I am. Why? Because 700 more square feet appear bright in my distant future. Its not that I hate moving, insomuch as I hate packing, and unpacking. And its hard to move, without doing either of those. I guess I could move without packing, but I'd miss my things I think. I'm also what one may call a "procastinator". Gasps heard around I know. Its a fact that I've been spending most of my life trying to curb and fight, but without much success. I'm especially good at procrastinating when its something I loathe doing, like packing. And, in the 20 year school period of my life, I found I always had my best ideas a late night during a cram session, despite having two weeks on the project.

When I made the decision to move back in June, I decided that this time, this time I would not procrastinate with the packing thing. I looked my boyfriend in the eyes and said, babe, I will not wait till the last minute to pack all my crap up. I layed out a two month "plan" of attack on the Sara Fortress. July would be sort and throw away month, while August would be serious packing month. So that by the time the last week of August rolled around, I would be lounging in my packed apartment, eating bon-bons. It hasn't exactly played out that way, because, well there was just too much fun going on in July to spend sorting and throwing away.  Thus far, I have devoted a meager 5 hours to the process of moving. And unfortunately, while today is only August 2nd, the end of August seems to be quickly approaching (atleast in my head). And I still keep coming up with reasons not to pack. And well, I guess the only good accomplishments that I've made are 1) i've bought boxes and 2) half of my bedroom is sorted and packed. How's that for not procrastinating? Do not dismay my friends, I still plan on getting the packing done so that I can be lounging and eating bon-bons the last week of August.

Proof that I have in fact packed some boxes (that's my Callie leering at the birds outside the window)

I will have the packing done. Do not doubt me on that. What I can't promise is that the unpacking portion will get done in a timely manner...that's a whole other topic.