Other than some social posts, I’ve successfully stayed away from my computer and spent most of the week getting pampered at the spa, hiking with my dog, and reading books. It’s been lovely, and much needed.
Though the massage, facial, daily yoga and Epsom salt baths all week have been amazing, my favourite day was obviously yesterday (my actual birthday), where I spent the morning in the spa getting a manicure and Ayurvedic pedicure and came out to find my wonderful boyfriend had already paid for my treatments. Then I came home to discover he snuck into my apartment and put a big bouquet of flowers on my kitchen table 🙂 Then last night before dinner with my family, he gave me this amazing gift.
The toe bone’s connected to the heel bone. The heel bone’s connected to the foot bone. The foot bone’s connected to the leg bone. The leg bone’s connected to the knee bone. The knee bone connected to the thigh bone… ♫
While technically the bones connect at the joints, this classic children’s song is a pretty accurate (albeit simplistic) overview of what’s going on under our skin and muscles. And for some reason it always pops into my head when I’m planking.
I usually add verse, though, that goes something like this:
The hamstring muscle group’s connected to the pelvis and fibula/tibia. The iliopsoas connects to the lesser trochanter of the femur. My hamstrings are tight and I sit all day at a desk, and that’s why I can’t plank… ♫ (more…)
You move out with the boyfriend, buy a couch together, split the bills, open a joint bank account, and spend your Saturdays at Home Depot looking at paint chips.
Then you get a puppy.
I’m thrilled, obviously, because I love animals. I’ve always had pets – lizards, rats, cats, dogs, you name it. My boyfriend Tyler, on the other hand, only had a hamster when he was quite young, and it died not long after they got it. He could care less if we got an animal, but it’s what you do.
Last night, at a friend’s birthday party, three couples out of our group of friends brought their dogs. They were tearing all over the house, fighting, chewing, puking. Give it a couple more years and the dogs will be left at home; instead, everyone will be bringing their kids to parties and letting them tear all over the house, fighting, chewing, puking.
Indy the sausage dog
As much as I’ve been fighting this “process”, it’s happening. I always thought I’d be some sort of nomad writer, travelling to exotic locals and writing about worldly issues.
But as of next week, my boyfriend and I will be responsible for a cute bundle of fluff, and not long after that, a house with a yard that will require many more Saturday trips to Home Depot.
As much as I long for travel and adventure, I like where I am in my life. It’s quaint. I’m reminded of that scene in the film Marley and Me, where John (the main character who writes a column about his lab Marley for a local newspaper) bumps into his old writer buddy who has been travelling the world, writing about Pulitzer prize-winning issues. His friend talks briefly about his latest writing assignment, then asks John how his life has been. John pulls out a family photo of his wife, kids and Marley, and beams. You can see the pang of jealous on John’s friend’s face.
And it’s true – when you don’t have anyone to enjoy your time spent on earth with, what’s the point? And who’s to say I can’t write and travel eventually? When I do, at least I’ll have something to come home to and share my adventures with.
Indy and his sister meeting some older dachshund pups - look how cute Indy's face is!
So I’ve stopped fighting the process. Last weekend, we bought a puppy pen, chew toys, and a bed. I’ve been reading Cesar Millan’s puppy training book, and I’m all set to go. The parents are all saying this is good training for other responsibilities, but I’m not even thinking about that yet.
I’m just excited to have an ensthusiastic running and hiking buddy that will always be willing to hit the trails with me 🙂