I look at you from across the table and I wonder if this is how it’s supposed to be.

I’m totally comfortable sitting here, in wrinkled pants and my winter coat- you know I can’t take it off, I’m terrible with the cold. We sit, eat, talk over life’s frustrations. We have the same thoughts, as usual. I get up to fill our glasses, I don’t even have to ask if you want more, I know. When I take a too-big bite of pizza and have to wipe my mouth with a fist full of paper napkins, you just continue talking, as if nothing happened. As if I didn’t just make a complete mess of myself, like a seven-year-old. We are honest now. A there’s-something-stuck-in-your-teeth kind of honest. It feels good.

You get up to cross the room and for the first time in a long time, I turn to watch you. I see the same person, yet different. I see the person I admired before, but now softer, yet stronger. I see you are more human, more like me than my fantasies of years past allowed me to make you. I see some tiredness in your eyes, but that kindness I always knew is also there. As we talk, I feel like you listen to me now. Or maybe you always have, I just now have chosen to notice.

And I like you. You’re my friend. You’re good to me, you’ve never been anything less. I was the one who allowed my mind to wander, who couldn’t stop it. I saw every similarity, every shared struggle as a sign. A sign of what, I don’t know. I made things into something they weren’t back then. It was long ago, really, but sometimes, when you hold the door for me or leave a certain kind of message on the phone, it seems like yesterday. I remember how it felt, to see you. I remember the anticipation, the mood, the butterflies. I suppose I always will, that’s what crushes do to us. We always have that imprint, somewhere inside.

And now, today, as we sit here, close and comfortable (me, maybe you always have been) I am certain of almost nothing. Almost because now, I know the difference. I know that I can love you but in another way. I know that I do, and I know that you do. I know now, because you tell me, and I listen. I listen to what you really mean. I don’t know what I was so in love with in the past. An idea, maybe. I do love now, though. I love the shared dinner, and the comfort I can find in the history of our time together. It’s easy now, on my mind and my heart. I’ve come a long way, and you have, too. Years later, I’m thinking this, at least for this moment, is how it’s supposed to be.

Alright, so I told you it was coming. I told you I would whine and beg as if I, JustRun blogger, were the only person on Earth. I also told you I’d demand things and expect each and every one of you to comply. However, I am going to ask nicely and that makes up for everything else.

Please, blogger buddies, share music with me. I want some good music, that may or may not be new (or new to me but maybe I’ve just forgotten all about it), that you love. (And yes, you, I know where I can go every Friday for some tunes but that doesn’t mean they’re “favorites” or highly recommended. This way, I know it’s the best of the best.)

Maybe it’s your favorite song/artist/band/album.

Maybe it’s the newest, greatest thing in your city.

Maybe it’s your all-time, top ten favorite songs, ever.

Maybe it’s the CD you can’t stop playing in your car.

Maybe it’s the music you’ve been running with lately.

Maybe it’s music from your high school prom.

Maybe it’s something you love because of a recent concert you attended.

Whatever it is, share it with me. Please and pretty please.

Thank you and forever and ever am I in your musical debt!

This past weekend, I purchased a lot of airline tickets. It just so happened that I found good prices for all the places I need, err, want to go over the next six months. After dropping that amount of money in a matter of minutes, I was feeling a little guilty. A little, uhhh, financially irresponsible.

I reasoned that the savings was something that a) I worked very hard for and b) would replenish soon with a tax return and by minding my budget. Heh, well, mostly minding it anyway. Still, I wasn’t feeling great. I mean, what kind of person goes and schedules not one, not two, but THREE coastal/beach vacations within the first six months of the year? Obviously, this kind of person.

After giving my chunk of change to the airline industry, I wrestled for the remainder of the weekend back and forth over what I’d done. No, I couldn’t take it back but that doesn’t mean I could allow myself to feel completely good about it. This is what you save for. But the money could go somewhere else. You do share your money. And you share your time. You’re young, you need to have fun. You’re young, you need to plan. Don’t worry, you have travel insurance. And you have a retirement account, several. And mutual funds, don’t forget the mutual funds! But maybe you could have helped someone else out. This is what it’s like to live in my head.

Then, I came into work Tuesday and opened an email that read something like this:

It is with great sadness that I inform you of the passing of one of our fellow employees. Mary Jones died Saturday at her home. Mary worked for our organization for over twenty-five years and had recently retired on November 30, 2006. Funeral service and donation information to follow as soon as it becomes available.

Over twenty-five years. Retired six weeks. She wasn’t sick. Children, grandchildren. Travel plans with her husband. Plans to sit back and really enjoy life. I heard all this from other employees, employees closer to Mary than I. And now, there was nothing. She’s gone, there are no plans.

I’m often unsure of what there is to learn from death. I struggle so much with making any sense of it at all. Faith and logic only go so far, when someone’s six weeks into retirement, “the best time of life,” and it’s all gone in an instant. How can you make sense of that, sense of no guarantees? Is there anything to learn?

I have a hard time really knowing the answer to those questions. I probably always will. But little by little, and each unfortunate time I have to be reminded, I think I might know a little more. I might be a little closer to the answer. And yesterday, when I sat back down at my desk and thought about the dramatic depletion of my money over the past weekend, I didn’t feel that guilt anymore.

While I know that saving and planning for my future is important and a priority, it’s not the only priority. We also have to plan for right now. We have to allow ourselves to live right now and take advantage of those opportunities that may deplete our bank account, but will also fill our lives. Fill our souls, even, if we let it. That, I think, might be the only guarantee there really is.

With all this snow going on, a runner can get a little restless. Luckily, we had a high of something like 18 (F) today, so I planned the day around running at the hottest point possible. Hottest? Well, anyway, I wanted to go out and run.
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Admittedly, I am breaking the “rules” a little. Right now, I am supposed to run just one day per week and make nice with the elliptical machine every other day. I ran six miles on the treadmill at the gym yesterday, so today should have been either a) a rest day or b) elliptical day. I was okay with neither. You see, though, I’m lazy, in an active sort of way. Why go to the gym- which would involve driving three miles and combing my hair- when I could step right out the front door and go? I know, right?!
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So, with no pain in my knee (PT is working, I’m a believer!) and enough clothes on to add a good ten pounds, I was out the door. The trails, sidewalks and streets are still covered in snow and ice. Thanks, however, to Yaktrax, my feet didn’t move anywhere I didn’t want them to. It was four miles of loveliness in the world of running. For most of the run, I was able to run right down the middle of the road, my most favorite way to run. What? I like to pretend I own the road. Like that is a surprise to anyone.
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I didn’t want to stop, I really didn’t, but I knew I should. I knew I would want to run another day and therefore, would have to hold back on this day. Self-control, who knew. Besides, I had an ambitious winter soup recipe waiting for me at home.

Herbed Butternut Squash-Apple Soup

I say ambitious because, well, I don’t make soup. I open cans, and I heat in a sauce pan. I don’t make it. I particularly don’t puree and combine. But I did today. And boy, oh boy, was it worth it. I broke some recipe rules, too, which is always pushing it because, as you saw, I don’t make things. A skipping of the shallots and an adding of some sauteed red peppers just “for color” as my grandma would say, led to a soup experience. Yes, experience. Okay, maybe it was just a combination of having trodded through the snow, labored over a food processor and stove, and fabulous ingredients but still, it was so good! And so easy, which should be encouraging and make me want to try more recipes but oddly, I just want more soup.

And by popular, I mean three. Three people that asked “what’s this ‘Part 6′ business all about?” They were not around for Parts 1-5. As you’ll see, they’re not thrilling. But, I loves me some windshield views:

Part 5

Part 4

Part 3

Part 2

Part 1

And now, let’s all ambrace my three-day-weekend-non-posting laziness!

A male friend of mine has been “entertaining” the idea of a long-distance relationship. He tends to go on a little, which I generally don’t mind. Should I go? Should I not? Is it right? Is it wrong? Is it too soon since my last relationship? Am I ready? Is this the right person? Is this the right time? Is it worth the time? Is it worth the money? Is it worth the effort? It all seems a bit much for me, but everyone is different, right? It also all seems a bit much for a guy, but hey, some normal guys talk a lot, right?

And by normal, of course, I mean no one I have ever met except for this one guy who is a good guy with what I believe to be good intentions but seriously, has not a clue as to what he wants. But I assure him anyway, that if he were to stop thinking about it and just pay attention to how he really feels about this woman, most of his questioning would cease. The answers would come and if they didn’t, he wouldn’t notice anyway because he’d either be (a) happy or, (b) aware enough to see the red flags. I understand long distance has it’s own host of complications, but at the end of the day, we know what we want. Come on, you know it’s true.

What I want, for the record: A man to not feel as though he as to question whether or not it’s worth the effort to see me. Maybe that’s a little bit much to ask, but no one around here has ever claimed to posses a great deal of restraint or flexibility when it comes to what they want. And what they know they deserve.