I smell like chlorine and that's okay today.

I'm packing up my swim bag for the first time in over a year. Do you ever get that feeling, something has been on your mind to do for seemingly ever and then one day you just know it's going to happen.

Today, it didn't matter to me that there'd probably be a bunch of families and squabbly kids wreaking havoc at the pool (there were), or wondering if my practically new swim suit would fit again after a year of weight fluctuation (it did!), or that it's cold outside and the ride home would be chilly (it wasn't), and it didn't matter that I haven't shaved my legs, or any of the other mind-squabbles that have derailed the little inkling of "let's go swimming rachel!" that has come and gone again and again across the months and months that it's been since I last went to the pool.

The only thing that came close to derailing me, and it caused a good 1/2 hour delay in my getting out the door, was finding the combination to my padlock.

After searching high and low for it, and coming up empty handed I thought to look in my swim bag. And smarty pants that I was two years ago: the sticker with the combination is stuck to the inside of the envelope that holds my swim cap!

There was even a lane waiting for me that I got mostly to myself while I was there (a rare treat)! And while I mostly just used a kick board and kicked back and forth across the pool, it felt so darn good. . . like I have just come back from somewhere else.

A lot happens in a year. Even when it feels like you end up in exactly the same spot, or you don't think you've done much. Every year has its own rhythm and discoveries for you.

Goal 63: Sell something on Craigslist

I started playing the cello in 6th or 7th grade. I remember: my best friend Megan was switching to the cello (as 5th graders we had learned violin) and my academic nemesis was sticking with violin.

Knowing that he would always practice more than me, I decided to switch to the cello with Megan.

This brilliant flame orange cello had been with me since then, through school concerts and solo/ensemble challenges, left behind in closets, and eventually moved across the country via amtrak.

But then it sat in closets again. I played, and wasn't nearly as good as I was in my mind. I always imagine myself as Jacqueline Du Pre. A bit of a disappointment at the reality. Yet there was an emotional attachment to my cello and the dream that one day I would practice, like I should have in school, and become really, really good.

It ended up a small yet constant reminder of failure. "I don't have time,"  I'd think or, "I have other priorities." A little piece of me would recoil and cower when I saw my cello case, inside it my beautiful instrument unused.

As I'm generally downsizing bit-by-bit (and about 10 other factors, like Ian clearing and selling a BUNCH of his car stuff, and recent success selling a few items on EBay). . . my heart and mind were finally in agreement that it would be okay to sell my cello.

After all, when the magical day comes that I have TIME to commit to it, and it can be a priority, I will also have MONEY to purchase another instrument. So up went the craigslist post and when a response came I connected with a buyer who will love it and use learning the cello to calm her pre-mid-life-crisis crisis.

Letting it go has given me an amount of relief and freedom. Now I can relish the good memories instead of being nagged by a "should" feeling, and tiny pangs of regret over and over again.

Are you carrying around your own regretcello? I'd love to know.

So we're a little late with inventory over here at the bike shop. Having run through my usual list of obsessive website checking (no one is emailing me between 10:45 and 11: 30 pm? really?) while I wait on more pages to calculate, I remembered xkcd one of Ian's favorite web comics. This random pull just tickled me so. Click to see full size version here.

5+3+5+3+5+3=

Congratulations to me! For the first time ever in my life: I just jogged for 24 continuous minutes. 

That's longer than an episode of 30 Rock. 

That's longer than an entire side of my favorite Stevie Wonder LP (Music of My Mind). 

That's almost twice as long as my average shower!  

I feel good. 

I was just telling my mom how I am camping. with all the amenities. in the city. in my house. It's just that we've run out of heating oil, you see. and it's 52 degrees in here. Ian's response when I spoke with him on the phone (in ohio) was "it's 15 degrees outside here... and everything is white"

The bright side is that I'll be motivated to do all that housework I have lined up! Gotta keep moving around to stay warm. Oh! And the office will seem on the shy side of TOASTY today! wa-hoo!

R

Ian is gone off to Ohio for a family visit. I have some grand plans for his absence, dishes for one, rearranging. Baths every night! Getting all that reading done! a life plan! But then again, I may just end up sitting in his spot in front of the tv because I miss him.

New Year's Eve = Hot Dogs and french fries.

"Maybe I'll start making a new dish every month again. That was fun." I said to Ian.
"OKAY!" Ian said back.

I bought a new Martha Stewart Everyday Food mini-mag at the grocery store yesterday when Ian and I shopped with the masses.

Note to Self: New Year's Eve around 4pm is a very busy time to go to the grocery store. If in the same situation next year (that being, having absolutely no food in the house) try to go earlier in the morning, or after 6pm.

We had to WAIT for a parking space. It reminded me of driving to North Campus, where the Art building was, in college. Good luck finding a spot.