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October 10, 2004 - 11:32 am


I ran a race this weekend. It was just a little neighborhood 5k, and I came in something like 23rd overall (out of about 180) and 2nd in my age group. It wasn't my best time (25 minutes and change), but that's not bad, I guess. And it was the first time I've run at all since the triathlon a month ago, so, although I usually dodge compliments like men in bad toupees, I'm spreadin' it around town a little. You're the eighth to know, in case you were wondering. And you're the ninth.

The race was the official kickoff for the Seventh Annual Oakhurst INTERNATIONAL Arts and Music Festival, so after I left all those losers behind me in my sparkle dust, I ran another mile home just for the fun of it, showered, and picked up the kiddos to go right back. They wanted to wear their Halloween costumes since they were both marching in the parade, but we haven't gotten this year's yet. So the Girl made due with last year's fairy-princess-ballerina-who-grants-wishes-with-a-magic-wand costume, and the Boy dressed as a five-year-old kid. He put some thought into it, too, because he really had me convinced.

As it turned out, the INTERNATIONAL part of the festival referred to some African drummers and a few Flamenco dancers. Mostly everyone else was plain old American, but that was okay, too. They were all pretty crafty for white people. There's this great Peruvian tapas place right in Oakhurst that I love, and they were kind enough to set up a table out front offering margaritas, sangrias, and the "liquid salad" that is their Mojito.

There was an eccentric-looking Australian woman who had a booth with these adorable long skirts with a hoop at the bottom, and I got the Girl one. She started a trend. Within minutes, all her friends had them, too, and they were twirling and dancing in front of the bandstand with abandon Ė precious!

I knew lots and lots of people there and even ran into a former client. Her significant other was on Ocracoke Island (Outer Banks of North Carolina) this weekend checking up on how construction is progressing on a beach house I designed for them last year some time. She made a point of raving about how the layout makes the most of the site and the views, which I appreciated since I did spend a lot of time considering that stuff. It's always nice when people like your work. And in my line of work, where once it's up, it's up for a long, long time, reminding you what kind of job you did, it's nice to like your own work, regardless of what your client says. I love my job. And, yes, all those commas were necessary.

Then, when we should have left, we headed over to a new place in Oakhurst to listen to some more music. The kids were having a great time and so was I, and since Julie drove us (in her brand spanking new flower-stem green convertible VW bug), I may have had one glass of wine too many. Thank god I didnít do anything REALLY stupid (if you saw me and disagree, just donít tell me), but I donít think Iíll be drinking any more. The logic behind this decision is that I've been drinking pretty steadily for about three years, and it just doesn't seem to be helping my situation as I'd hoped. So, in preparation for this moment, I bought a sleep aid at the grocery store last week so I donít have to drink at night before bed to keep my brain from racing at a billion miles an hour and dwelling on things I shouldnít dwell on. I havenít tried it yet, but I think tonightís the night. And if I wake up tomorrow feeling rested and refreshed like the box says rather than dead after thrashing around in a hallucinatory state from some unforseen allergy I have to over-the-counter sleep aids, weíll see how my sense of humor fares.

p.s. I changed that last bit from yesterday because it sounded a little unintentionally morbid before. I swear I'm not suicidal - I've got way too much laundry to do to off myself.


reading -Archie and Mehitabel by Don Marquis
viewing - The Philadelphia Story
listening -"Cello Song" by Nick Drake

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