on running and hope and collars.

Hi my name is Jessica. You could take out a piece of paper and pen right now and write down a list. No wait, since you're obviously on your computer, you could just type a quick one out--one that entails all of the things I do. Like, on a regular basis. And sure, it would probably be kind of long. And you might even find some more obscure activities on it like

• swimming with manatees

or even

• losing my marriage license

But I can assure you that even if this list were comprehensive and exhaustive (which I assume just means that it is so thorough that you are totally exhausted by the time you finish it. right?okay, maybe not), it would not ever say

• running

Which is why I thought it was a great idea to just up and do a 5k today. Sure, most people train for these kinds of things, but me? Hey, well just a few months ago I wasn't feeling so hot so I ran right to the trash can in time to throw up a vitamin I had taken--that went pretty well--why not try for a 5k?

Sounds about right.

So here is me and my sister Jenna,
after having successfully completing it and actually running about half of it, I'd say, though that may be a generous estimation.

I strive to be generous at all times, you know?

And right when I felt like it was really the pits, my sister sort of saved the day by offering me half her ipod earbuds (which would be one of them, for those of you not quite so adept in math or the basic knowledge of how many ears a human has), and we both listened to some N'SYNC. Old school. Dirty Pop.

It helped us pick up the pace and reminisce about the time we saw N'SYNC at the Vet in Philly. It was Jenna's first concert ever and I have to admit, watching Joey Fatone get stuck in the air, just suspended and trying to pretend that's what was supposed to happen was entertainment, folks. Maybe not at it's best, but still, it was pretty good. The jig was up, though, because all of his boy band mates were already dancing on their respective mechanical bulls (yes, that's what I said), and there was poor Joey, doing those hand motions with his feet dangling helplessly while his riderless mechanical bull bucked and jumped underneath him.

Yep, we knew, we were no dummies. And neither were the crew, since they were working their darnedest at getting Joey down and onto that bull where he belonged.

Oh, but the 5k.

We did it, that was the point, I believe.

I will probably be sore tomorrow, and by probably I mean definitely, but it was a good time and for a good cause (westside family health care).

Maybe I'll do it again someday. And maybe I'll, I don't know, train.

Oh. And even though I don't love Christmas shops all year round, I do love feeling like it's Christmas in August. Which is why it was so nice that while I was going through my things, I was completely surprised by this wall hanging

that I had bought at Ten Thousand Villages last December and then promptly forgotten. First of all I love that store. Their ethics are great since they practice fair trade and this particular piece is from a group of wood crafters in El Salvador (yay El Salvador, land of my sister's ancestors!!!).

But isn't it lovely?

I love everything about it--the yellow, the sentiment, the flowers crawling along the letters on a meandering vine. Which is why I put it up. By myself. Even though Drew usually tells me to wait for him...And if I were to tell the whole story, the exhaustive story, I would say something like it took me a while and at one point I almost fell off the chair I was standing on but lucky for me the wall hanging fell instead. And there I was, hands and mouth full of nails and hooks and a hammer, helplessly watching the HOPE that was handcrafted by good honest El Salvadorans fall to the floor and promptly break so that it looked more like a really weird, half breed H followed, at least, by a good strong OPE.

But that wasn't gonna cut it.

So I found some carpenter's glue and put it right back together again and now all you can really see is a faint line, just a crack in the otherwise perfect veneer. But really, it makes the whole thing have more character as well as being that much more real since our HOPE isn't born out of perfection, no, it's a resilient sonofagun that persists in some mighty deep cracks and then keeps on going.

Sort of like our little Percy-girl's dogged resistance to her adorable pink collar, though really, can you say dogged when referring to a cat? Probably not if you ask a cat. But see, tonight I discovered that she had not only taken the thing off,
she also tried to bury the evidence!