We didn’t just take a million pictures and post six thousand tweets. We made a podcast.
I’m honored to have been a part of Overwhelming Positivity 32, where you learn about zipline freak-outs, island curses, and why we should get a refund from our stargazing trip. And it starts with my “phone voice.” We recorded it on our last night in Hawaii, and by the end of it, you might feel you went on this trip, too. Or at the very least, you might come down with a touch of the “Aloha spirit.”
If nothing else, please don’t miss the, lovingly handmade by Glark. You might be inspired to add your own lyrics.
(I like to download their podcasts so I can take them with me on planes and trains and doctor’s waiting rooms. It makes me that crazy lady who laughs into the air and sometimes says, “I know!” …but at this point, I’ve got nothing left to lose.)
[I swear to you, this is the last time I’ll talk about this Hawaii trip. Last time!]
A Short Play to Demonstrate the Amount of Control Anna Beth Chao Has Over My Life
[Two women sit 1736 miles away from each other.
An unemployed blonde with absolutely nothing to do for months stares at her living room bookcase, picks up her cell phone and sends a text.]
PAMIE: What if I moved the Flurgen* to the other wall? Where the puffs hang? And put tiny couch where the big couch is?
[The other woman is tiny, wearing Hammer pants, and is currently painting the area behind her kitchen electrical sockets, using a toothbrush made of unicorn eyelashes. Her phone buzzes. She looks at the message, and immediately texts back:]
ANNA BETH: No
* Flurgen = code for the IKEA bookcase that almost killed us.
And for those of you who can’t get enough of watching me look like a dork, Glark posted his footage of Zipline Badass. In HD. Bonus: He aligns both POVs, so you can Zapruder my humiliation.
Happy Mardi Gras! I’m totally flashing you my boobs right now, I promise.
This weekend, it’s LA vs SD as the Varsity Brawlers take on The Swarm. This bout will sell out, so get your tickets like, right now. Read more
[Previous entries: Pre-Marathon and Part One]
As a reward, I put on my headphones. My marathon playlist keeps me moving. I see stee pass in his car down the highway. I’ll see him again in about an hour. I run the numbers. 15, 25, 27, 37, 39, 49, 51, 101. It’s all about getting that medal.
It rains, just slightly. Read more
“You know, your father was proud of you for more than just that race.”
“I know, Ma.”
“He just didn’t always know how to say it.”
I got up at three in the morning. Sprang from the bed, actually, when the alarms went off. (Two different alarms). I got dressed. Wrote sleeping stee a note. He woke up and took pictures of me applying sunscreen. Took a few bites of apple and made a cup of tea.
I left the iPod, as I don’t like breaking rules, walked to the elevator, decided I definitely needed the iPod and ended up knocking on the wrong door trying to get back in. Panicked, I flattened against the wall and tried not to breathe as whomever I woke up answered to see who the hell was knocking so early in the morning. Read more
“But why do you want to do this?” my mom asked in that tone, the worried whine of motherhood.
“For a lot of reasons,” I answered. “Because I want to, and because I don’t think I can, and… well, probably because Dad and that race when I was in the third grade.”
She sighed. She remembered.
I don’t know if I wrote about this before. Probably. Yep. I totally did. It’s worth reading, because it explains things a little.
“Just be careful out there,” Mom said. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
“Mom, it’s 26.2 miles. It’s going to hurt.”
More sighing. “Good luck.” Read more
Within 24 hours of posting information about my new book, someone was already complaining on Amazon. This person was nice enough to repeatedly state she was a fan of my writing, but found the title to be disappointing, and wildly lacking in imagination. I’d been planning to tell the story of how Why Moms Are Weird came to be, so here goes. Read more
This is the closest I’ve come to work in five days. The last time I took a break from work for more than part of a day… I think was my honeymoon. My honeymoon was also the last time I read a whole book in a day. Which since yesterday? I did. I missed the ocean, though. I showed Mom and Bosie pictures from the honeymoon and started getting nostalgic. Then yesterday morning when I opened up the bottle of sunscreen (because it was very sunny and windy out and I was going to be running for more than an hour), the smell of Maui hit me with the warm breeze and the SPF and a little, sad tear fell from my eye. I got an email from Faye — who got married pretty close to when we did and we all ended up coincidentally at the same hotel in Maui — asking if we were all accidentally meeting up again this year, because it sounds like such a lovely-rich-people-thing to do, accidentally vacation together every year. And perhaps we’ll call it “on holiday.” Read more
The honeymoon: sun, sleep, sunsets, staph, snorkeling, sushi, sexy-sexy. There you go.
But two things that might actually interest you:
We spent part of the honeymoon on a rather remote part of an island. There was only one tiny market that we’d drive to for food and beer. We walked in one time alongside a woman I recognized immediately. She was dressed like a local (and by that I mean t-shirt, shorts, flip-flops, and a serene smile), and that was what threw me at first. But I knew it was her. Read more