Rocking Mad City

Up in Madison, WI this weekend. It is gorgeous. Brendan is riding his bike 100 miles or so. I am planning on going shopping for a new purse. I think my day holds a lot more appeal.

I got up at the crack of dawn this morning to drive my husband to meet a group of other crazy people who are all riding 100 miles together. (You're right, I am the best wife ever.)

In this group he's riding with today are two people that I am not best friends with. One is this girl who used to openly hit on Brendan in front of me. I met her about twenty times before she seemed to be able to remember me, and when I was by myself and smiled and said hi, she wouldn't acknowledge me. Whenever Brendan and I saw her together--she would laugh and flirt and only talk to him, completely ignoring me.

Maybe this is just me, but I find that to be irritating. Usually, I try to put it in perspective, and have sympathy for a person like that. I try to remember she's probably insecure--or has a raging STD. But, even so, sometimes don't you just want to punch people like that in the face?

But, we don't, because we are ladies and ladylike.

On the outside.

What is/was most annoying, though, is that Brendan never noticed this behavior, even with my sketches and dioramas, my fully scripted scenes playing out before him, my claymation, the CGI. In fact, he refused to believe me until it was finally confirmed by outside sources (other boys) that it wasn't just me--that it turns out her selective rudeness was well-known. I think there's a name for someone like that. I can't think of it. It's on the tip of my tongue...

And then my other non-BFF is this guy, who after the Chicago marathon last year--the one where I trained all summer to get a thimble of gatorade in raging heat and wasn't allowed to finish?--made some blanket statement on this running forum about how anyone who didn't get liquids in the race didn't deserve them because they obviously weren't fast enough, and basically didn't belong in a marathon to begin with. Because a marathon is about speed, obviously. Remind me, dude, which marathons have you won?

Look, I am the first to admit, I probably have no business running a marathon. I am a huge slow poke. No arguments there. But, if they're going to take my $120, they owe me a couple of cups of water, whether the people in front of me were faster or not. It's called a business transaction.

Anyway, for now I am back in the hotel, with seemingly little to do for the day--which is a huge relief. I have not had a weekend like this in weeks. It is fabulishious.

Feel free to use that term.

I'm reading Sharp Objects right now, which came out last year and was written by a girl who lives in my neighborhood. I am jealous because I can't seem to finish my third book. My first, I've sort of hit an impass with in terms of knowing if I need to rewrite it, and my second is still percolating. The third, I think I'm ready to polish off, but then I get side tracked...by say, posting a blog entry.

Okay, fine, I'll go write, and then go get the best grilled cheese ever, with a tall sports tea. Or maybe a glass of white wine.