Sunday, June 30

Sent the Tweedle Twirp and the Mother packing today. Now, it's just me and Boston. Did a bit o' shopping today. Note to self: Filene's Bargain Basement is best visited when wearing a bra; dressing rooms are communal. Explored the city a bit. Got lost a few times. Clocked how long it would take me to get to my morning appointment tomorrow (15 minutes plus another 15 minutes, since I'll be wearing heels). A nice mellow day. Tomorrow I'm back in Natick at Sue's, killing time until I pick up Adam at the Logan Express bus stop on Wednesday morning.

Saturday, June 29

Um, I guess I owe an apology or something to Debbie H. She said she wanted to take a duck tour in Seattle and I mocked her to pieces. So, while Melissa and I are here, we decided to take a duck tour. Only we were SHUT DOWN! We went by at about 11:45 a.m. and they were already sold out for the day. See, Deb! I told you the duck tours sucked!

Instead, we took a swan boat ride in the Commons, waded in the Frog Pond and had ice cream, and then met up with my mother to walk the Freedom Trail. The Freedom Trail, by the way, is a rip off. It's a red line that travels for two and a half miles through the city marking off places of note. However, there was more than one vendor actually *on* the trail and their stuff was not free! The nerve!

Tonight for dinner was too much food. Lobster, mussells, clams, corn, chowder (that's chowda). Yum. Full. It's Adam's fault. He always makes me eat too much food. It's even worse when he's actually with me.

The Tweedle Twirp did approve the house. We're just under a mile from the commercial center at Arlington Heights, which we explored. Found the Trader Joes, the video store, the Brigham's Ice Cream, even the Dunkin Donuts.You know what sucks about moving here? It means I finally have to learn to spell Massachusetts. Or is that Massachussetts? Who can remember these things?

Friday, June 28

So, I didn't get a number in the New York marathon, but I did get something even better... a house!! It's a darling four bedroom, two bathroom bungalow in an area called Arlington (it's about 9 miles from Boston and, as my father checked, 1.09 miles from the nearest Starbucks). It's got a huge backyard (although my mother says it's a nice size and it's all a matter of perspective. I think it's humongous), hardwood floors, a gas stove, and a front porch swing! The only thing I wanted that it didn't have is a fireplace, but given how great the place is, I'll live. I looked at some truly yucky expensive places. I saw this place on the first day and knew it would be perfect, but as Sue says, you can't fall in love with a property until you own it (which we don't yet, but soon!). As I said to Adam, I didn't just think, "Oh, this is the best house I've seen." I thought, "Wow, I love this house!" I'd love it just as much if it were in Seattle. I was worried about getting it because it's so darling and it just went on the market on Wednesday. Check out the pictures of the place at www.jennyandadam.com/house. And with the layout, all of you can come visit us and we won't feel cramped at all. I know Adam is nervous about this--he'll see if for the first time at the inspection on Wednesday at 1 p.m. (which will be rough for him, since he will be taking a red-eye in on Tuesday night and getting in on Wednesday morning. He'll be beat at the party we're going to Wednesday night). But I'm completely confident that he's going to love it. After all, he'll get his own office, he can build massive shelves for our DVD collection, and he can grill all he wants to.

Whew! So things are definitely looking up. The car at first couldn't be fixed and was going to have to be towed to the Toyota dealership. Then yesterday, they found the electrical problem. I should be able to pick it up today, although I'm sure it's going to cost an arm and a leg. But right now, I don't care. I can relax a little and begin to check out the town a little more stress-free. I've had some great meetings/conversations about jobs out here and my resume is making the rounds. Today, the tweedle twirp (who got into town last night and is entertaining Mom while I get stuff done at Kinko's) will check out the house and give her seal of approval.

Tuesday, June 25

Today was a terrible, no good, very bad birthday. The pimpmobile died on the middle of Route 16 in Medford. It's now resting happily in an auto shop while I am not so happily driving a green Saturn rental car. Sigh.
Boston, MA
248 miles

It's my birthday, it's my birthday, doin' the birthday dance. Yeah!

I made it. Didn't think I would. Took almost 2 hours to go the first 60 miles out of Jersey. Of course, I almost didn't make it out. Couldn't figure out the gas station. Guy thought I was a moron. I drove around on the wrong side of my gas tank to find the self service.Duh. No self service in Jersey.

On my way in I thought, I should have a better map. Hey, wouldn't it be great if they made bigger maps of these areas? I guess it would be too big for a map. Hey, they could make like a book of maps! And then it hit. Oh, yeah, they do. It's called an Atlas. And why didn't I have one with me? Second duh of the day.

I paid a $1 for a can of Diet Coke and was grateful. Sad.

Looking at the rest stops, I seem to have travelled the farthest. No one else had plates from as far away.

I have to log on from Kinkos since it's hard to connect from someone's house. So updates will be short and sporadic until we hit the hotel. But that's okay, because right now I'm too stressed about the job search to write much here.

Sunday, June 23

I just noticed that my blog is still posting at PST. So, if you see the time on my entries from Montana, add an hour. If you see an entry from North Dakota, add two hours. Postings from last night and tonight and from here on out should have three hours added. I'd change it in the system, only I just tried and it changed the time on all the postings. Odd. So I'll leave it on Pacific time until I'm officially and permanently on the East Coast.
Highland Park, NJ
726 miles (I think. I forgot to check before coming in)

Ah, had my first Starbucks in days today. I was jonesing for a grande nonfat iced latte with light vanilla, but I couldn't find one anywhere. In North Dakota, I had Adam look up to see where there was a Starbucks in Bismarck or Fargo. That would be nowhere. How can there be a state with no Starbucks? The day before I left town, I called Adam at work. "I'm downtown. Want to meet for a coffee? We can meet at the Starbucks across the street from Nordstrom." Thank goodness he spotted me as I was walking and called to me. "What are you doing here?" I asked him. He looked confused and pointed at the Starbucks. "Oooh," I said. "Right. I meant the other Starbucks across the street from Nordstrom." And North Dakota gets none. Doesn't seem right.

You can barely read my front license plate for all the bugs.

I've entered the land of manicured lawns and frizzy hair. In Seattle, I had a wild lawn and very neat hair (well, relatively so). Don't you just love humidity?

When the road curves right, I tend to panic a bit and I always lean with the car as I'm curving. Which is odd, because I have absolutely no problem with left curves. Yeah, I know, it's weird. Whatever.

Ohio has the most amazing rest stops anywhere. They're huge, with food courts and shops and nice bathrooms. Of course, I paid $8.30 for the pleasure of driving on their highway, but at least there I know where the money is going. Unlike Illinois where I paid out for crappy roads. Speaking of tolls, what's the deal with the East Coast and tolls? Are there any tolls in the West? I can't think of a single one. There was one in Tacoma, but they stopped charging the toll once the road was paid off, which seems logical to me. These are freeways. Free. What is so hard to get about that?

My head must have been in the clouds because at two of the pit stops I made today, I said "hi" to the folks next to me as I got out of the car. They looked at me oddly. I forgot it's now time to stop being friendly.

At the Tweedle Twirp's I was waiting to use the computer and lying on her bed, as that's the only place that has a breeze coming in:
Me: "Oh, a short-necked swan," I said, holding up a stuffed animal.
TT: "It's a duck. Aurora."
Me: "Why Aurora?"
TT: "Aurora means Dawn. That's the Duck of the Dawn. And next to you is Northrop Bumps the seal, Gray Bear, and Clearance Monkey."
Me to Gray Bear: "Guess she didn't feel very creative the day she got you." To TT: "Why Clarence?"
TT: "Not Clarence. Clearance Monkey. We bought him on clearance."
So pragmatic, that Tweedle Twirp. I brought up the fact that one of the Dakotas wants to drop the directional and just be Dakota.
TT: "Oh, it's North Dakota. Definitely North Dakota. South Dakota has no problems with its directional. Although, what they should do, since both their populations are dropping, is to just combine into one state called Dakota. And actually, that would be good, because while people say that Puerto Rico shouldn't become a state for cultural reasons and whatnot, really, a lot of people don't want it because it would make 51 states. 50 is such a good easy number. But 51 states? So if the Dakotas combined, you could add Puerto Rico and still have 50 states, so it would really work out best for everyone."
I just read the above to TT to make sure I hadn't misquoted her, and she said, "Just cut off the part about 'best for everyone' because I'm not sure statehood for Puerto Rico is best for everyone." So scratch that from the record.

I played the A3 song "Woke Up This Morning" at top volume as I crossed into New Jersey and I pretended I was Tony Soprano. Hey, it was a long day.

Saturday, June 22

Did I call this a real part of the world yesterday? Don't know what I was thinking....

Yesterday
Jamestown, ND
752.10 miles
Too many pit stops to count

Montana may have higher speed limits, less road work, and more interesting scenery, but North Dakota is way better because the rest stops are totally cool (vending machines! Phones!) and there are real live actual radio stations in this state. Including NPR. Although, you can’t hear songs like “Good-bye twenties, hello minivan.”

The Little Bighorn Battlefield was on my route. That anniversary of that battle is next Tuesday. Easy to remember Custer’s Last Stand when it’s on your birthday. (Hint, hint, that’s my birthday coming up on Tuesday, not yours.)

This trip is just like Frontier House, only instead of traveling west to start a new life in the wilderness, I’m traveling east to start a new life in preppydom. And instead potentially dying from the elements, I could potentially die from boredom.

In North Dakota I lost both an hour and all feeling in my left butt cheek. However, neither was a surprise this time.

There’s a place in North Dakota (Exit 7 on I-94) called Home on the Range.

I’m already sick of my music. I’ve listened to everything twice, except my mixed CD, which is the only thing that still keeps me entertained (thanks KAG!), although I’m guessing that after listen number 7 tomorrow, it might start to wear off. Surprisingly, Barry Manilow is not the driving motivator I had thought he would be.

I’m in a friggin’ smoking room, because I made it to Jamestown and I was starving! My own fault, of course, because I can’t bear to stop for food and lose precious driving time. I got to the Holiday Inn Express, and I asked if the restaurant next door was still open. “Till 10,” he said. It was 9:42. “Give me a room.” “All I’ve got is smoking.” I debated: I could go to the hotel next door, but then I’d be stuck with Arbys. I took the smoking room. Of course, I’m not sure that dinner at the WagonMaster was worth it. I’ve been craving pasta since the chicken wing night. Apparently, no one out here has heard of Italian food. The closest they get is Pizza Hut. Every now and then, I crave pizza and there’s nothing around but a Pizza Hut. I think to myself, “It can’t be as bad as I remember.” And then I eat there. And then it is. I didn’t fall for that tonight. So instead of a carbo-filled meal of pasta, I had steak for dinner.

Today
South Bend, IN
847.2 miles

I keep a little notebook with me in the car and I jot notes during the day, which is how I remember what to blog at night. However, I left it in the car, and I’m on the second floor of the Days Inn in South Bend, and it’s not the most attractive place, so I’m going to just wing this. If I forget anything, I’ll add it tomorrow.

I was going to comment on how horrible a driver I am at night, but I realized it might alarm my parents who read my blog, so I won’t mention it.

Minnesota, Land of 10,000 Lakes, my ass. I counted all of 14.

Carcass count: 4 ½ deer, 1 fox, 5 raccoons, countless unidentified animals.

The land of the toll booth:
From the border of Illinois to the border of Indiana there were eight, count them eight tolls of 40 cents each. I would’ve happily paid $2 once. Hell, for the privilege of stopping only once, they could’ve charged me $3.

Every time I passed a sign for Eau Claire, I thought I should beat someone up for making noises about the Bear.

I was psyched to get to Minnesota because I knew they had NPR (from “Marketplace is produced by Minnesota Public Radio”). Of course, just my luck, I caught them during their Summer Pledge Drive. I couldn’t handle more than a few minutes of it.

Adam said tonight, “I miss you. I wish I were there with you right now.”
I said, “Really? Because I was wishing you were here instead of me right now.”

Tonight I entered my new home time zone.

Since I’ve gotten so far, I’ve decided to make a detour. At the rate I’m going, I’d reach Boston either late, late tomorrow night (it’s about 874 miles from South Bend, with no time zone change) or really early on Monday. Since my mom’s not coming in till Tuesday, and I don’t know the folks we’re staying with, I’m going to head to New Brunswick tomorrow to visit with the Tweedle Twirp. I’ll still be in Boston by about 4 or 5 on Monday.

Dictated over the phone to Adam:
"I'm in Jamestown, ND. It sucks. I'm not only in a smoker's room, but I can't even get this stupid dial-up to work here. Which is why I'm dictating this to Adam rather than giving you the amusing details of my completely and totally and utterly boring day. Tomorrow I'll be in a real part of the world and will post it then."

Friday, June 21

I-90 from Start to Finish
Butte, MT
611.3 miles
Four pits stops: two in Washington, one in Idaho, one in Montana

My butt hurts. Random thoughts from my 10 hours on the road:
Seattle was gorgeous as I left—crisp and clear with perfect views of Mt. Ranier and Mt. Baker. Of course, there was traffic at 10:20 a.m., but that’s Seattle for you. Before I left, I debated taking the gym parking sticker off my car. “What if I want to park near the gym when I’m back?” I think it I realized for the first time that the car wasn’t going to be back in Seattle, that I’m leaving it in Boston. Threw me for a minute.

Boredom set in at mile 208. Loud music and Diet Coke helped somewhat. The legal limit for alcohol is .08. Why is there no legal limit for caffeine?

There are no rest stops for the first 88 miles of I-90. There’s only one rest stop on I-90 in all of Idaho.

I couldn’t eat all day. I kept burping up chicken wings. My stomach didn’t hurt or anything, just the idea of food was rather nauseating. I passed a restaurant called Wingers. Didn’t strike me as the least bit amusing.

My windshield has become bug heaven.

Amusing game between me and the car: too hot, AC goes on. Too cold, AC goes off. Too hot, too cold. Not a damn thing in-between.

Ritzville… ain’t.

There’s a Martha Inn in George, Washington. I’m not sure why this amused me as much as it did.

Lost my phone signal and an hour in Montana. For some reason, was surprised by both.

Butte, Montana, fills up. Apparently, according to the clerk at the Best Western (because the Motel 8 had no vacancies) every idiot knows that, except for me. I got one of two rooms left at the Red Lion.

Thursday, June 20

Okay, I'm not just packed, I'm overpacked. Off to the market and then hittin' the road. Bye everyone!
And still unpacked. Only this time, my tummy isn't feeling so well...
I'm still not packed.
The past 48 hours have been a blur of weepiness and nausea. Yesterday I almost made it through the day tearless until Beth P. came by to reminisce about the old days, which set me off, which set her off, which set me off more. Couldn't stop. But a day of a facial, shopping, and not packing had me feeling a lot better... until Tatonka tonight.

My Last Day
At 1 p.m. I turned in my computer. You never feel quite as lost as you do when you're computerless at Amazon. I sent out my good-bye note in the morning, and got lots of nice responses, including one from Jeff that said, "Jenny, thanks for being a big part of our adventure!!" Corny as it is, I was pretty pleased with that. Leaving was pretty tough--it may not have been the best place all of the time, but it was definitely a wild ride and it certainly took over my life for the past 4 1/4 years. It's hard to let go.

Tatonka
The wing eating contest. To quote the contest rules:

"Background -- Our fearless Tatonka leader, Andy 'The Shadow' Jassy, has been convening Tatonka buffalo wing eating events on the first Tuesday of every month since 1997 (earlier?), providing us with a place to eat, drink and be very merry. At these events, bold individuals have, of course, challenged the limits of stomach capacity for personal glory, and gluttony. First, Derrick 'Super-D' Cherry, claimed the throne with a 40-wing effort, although his later efforts put this feat in doubt. In order to resolve all controversy, Scott 'Before Body For Life' Kurttila and Dave 'I really need to go on a diet this time' Schappell put down 50, to put the record at a place that they thought few would ever approach. However, like all records, Mr. Polenz downed 54, a record that still stands today.Now, it is time for that record to fall. And, fall it will."

I, of course, am never one to let a trash-talking moment pass, so I claimed victory for myself and for my team. Our odds:
-- 11:1 Odds – Jenny Brown & Matt Neglay
-- Pros: Jenny is top contender for the ‘hottest wing’ throne, and is an avid trash-talker
Our first ‘mixed team’
They’ve actually asked to be named after a horse… the ‘War Emblem’ of Tatonka
-- Cons: Some members of this team are driving cross-country 12 hours after the competition – we think that the trip will come into play when the going gets tough
-- Quote from Team “6/18 is Jenny's final day with Amazon. That combined with my total lack of self respect means we have nothing to lose in terms of semi-public humiliation. We believe this in conjunction with the misplaced arrogance on our competitor's part will lead to our triumph in at least 2 categories....”
"I notice that team butt face—I mean butt dance—requested a separate title for the ladies. If they can’t handle the heat, that’s fine for them. But let me state for the record that I have no doubt that my wing numbers *alone* will beat their team numbers. So Matt and I will not only be going for the overall records, I, personally, will also be going for the ladies title."

My talk got so bad that Team “Los Gatos Locos” stated as their "clear objective: Shut Jenny Brown’s ENORMOUS pie-hole."

I'm happy to say they did not succeed. True, I did not win tonight's contest. But I beat the over/under (Guy had me pegged at fewer than 30), and I beat 80% of the guys there. Grand total: 45 chicken wings. Final result: bleah! My competitive spirit has completely done me in this time. Let it be known I also beat my own teammate, who probably had 100 pounds on me. And I will never again eat a chicken wing. Marathon training doubles now!

Tuesday, June 18

Last day. Should feel way more elated, but I'm already worrying about house hunting, job interviews (or lack thereof), and packing for the drive cross-country. Today feels almost anti-climactic. We'll see. I turn in my computer at 1 p.m., so while I still have a meeting this afternoon, I'll be more or less work-free by afternoon. Surreal...

Sunday, June 16

The Move
My favorite question, already asked twice this morning (and it's not even 9 a.m.), is "Are you almost packed?" While the answer we give is "Not quite," the real answer is "Haven't even started yet." I figure nothing's happening before my first trip to Boston, but we'll pack like madmen the week and a half we're back before the movers come. Really don't have a lot of choice, actually, in the matter.

Saturday, June 15

Quote of the day: "I'm not being difficult, I'm being helpful." --Carol K. Brown

Thursday, June 13

Running
So my official time for the Race for the Cure is a little slower than I had (as I said, it took me 20 seconds to cross the start line), but it was absolutely my best race time ever. I completed the 5k in 27 minutes, which gave me a 8:41 minutes a mile pace. I came in 258 out of 1047, which is, I think, the first time I was ever in the top quarter of a race. In my age range (30 to 34) I was 45 out of 171. Unfortunately, I've been under the weather all week (running a fever last night), so I haven't been training. I'll get back into it this weekend.

Work
I know you can't see me doing it, but right now I'm performing the "I've only got four more days of work" dance. There's even a song that goes with it.

Tuesday, June 11

Annoying thing about sharing an office: The minute I hit "publish" on my web log, I always turn around and see Adam loading my page to see what I've written.
Six more day of waking up and going into an office. Yikes, that feels short. And yet, next week still feels far away. I know there are folks I won't see for a while--if ever--again, yet it doesn't feel real. I have about three more weeks left in Seattle. Period.

Running

Got the results from the Beat the Bridge run. I did the 8k in 45:16, which comes out to 9:07 miles. I'm having issues with my running--I'm bored with my routes (one way in which I'm really looking forward to Boston--all new runs!), but worse than that, after my long runs, I'm beat. Sunday is my long run day, which means I'm pretty much guaranteed to spend Sunday afternoon asleep on the couch. Yesterday, I ran just over 14 miles, with two big hills, and I fell asleep for a good hour when I got back (okay, hour and a half). I check compulsively every day to see if they've announced the date of the drawing for the New York Marathon. If I don't get a number, I have some back-up marathons in mind, including Baltimore, Providence, Richmond, Maine, and Cape Cod. While Baltimore is certainly not the most exciting sounding, it does sound like a beginner's marathon, which is what I'm looking for. A lot of the courses close to support (water, Gatorade, Power Bars) after about 5 1/2 hours. While I'd like to think I could run a marathon in 12-minute miles, I'm not sure I could and I feel more confident with a race that stays open for 7 hours. Of course, there's always the marathon in Dublin... Eugene suggested the Chicago marathon, but I'd only do it if he actually did it. Honestly, while New York would be the coolest to do, I just want to do a marathon this year. Can be any marathon.

Flicks

Saw two more SIFF films and one anti-SIFF film. The two SIFF films were The Last Kiss and Mostly Martha. Kiss was another "relationships are doomed, and man and woman can never be truly happy together," but it was at least enjoyable. Martha was a bit cliche for me--neurotic woman's sister is killed and neurotic woman has to take care of her niece. It was cute, but nothing new. Finally, Undercover Brother was fantastic. That one is solid!

Clothes

Okay, so I broke down and went shopping. Even worse, I used a personal shopper... and I loved it! I don't own a single nice summer outfit (after eight years in Seattle, who needs nice clothes, never mind nice summer clothes!). I have about a 1/2 hour tolerance for shopping. But using the personal shopper was fabu! I made an appointment, told her I was looking for interview/work clothes for the East Coast, she asked me some questions about my tastes, I leafed through a magazine, and voila, she reappears with a handful of clothes. I didn't have to venture in the store at all. And she completely satisfied my request for Geranimals for grown-ups. Three bottoms, four tops, and they all go together. Yeah, Nordstrom! But even more importantly, yeah half yearly sale and yeah house discount! Got to go back before Adam leaves his job there.

Ab Fab

Oh, my interview with Jennifer Saunders was finally posted.

Not of the Heart

There was an eclipse this evening. I looked right at it. Not blind, yet!

Married Life

Tomorrow's Tuesday, which mean it's Susan Stamberg's next installment on the Living Single on NPR. It's so odd to listen to and to keep reading Bridget Jones-type books, because I still completely and totally 100% relate to the single-gal mind set. It's almost like I forget I'm married sometimes. It's not that I'm checking out guys, but I still think of myself as the chronically dating commitment-phobe. Married life is great, but it's hard for me to associate myself with what I think of as "married."

Leafing through Adam's HBS survival book, I was horrified at the piece by a female partner (from "A Female Partner's Perspective": "Another soucrce of your HBS friendships will be your spouse's section. The section provides a nice, small neighborhood of partners, many of whom may have a similar schedule to yours. Ask a section parter to join you for an after-work jog arund the Charles River.... Several couples I know scheduled a 'date night' every couple of weeks."). I wanted to scream, "I'm not a corporate-wife-in-training!" How much better did I relate to the "A Male Partner's Perpective," especially the part that read, "She had flirted with the idea of going to Columbia or INSEAD, but, in the end, we both knew that getting accepted by HBS meant she was going there. In addition, we both knew that there was no chance that I was going to be going with her. Besides my dislike of Boston (sorry folks--they asked me to be honest), I work at MTV, so I really had to stay in New York." Umm, hello? I'm the free-spirit who's dream is to travel from Istanbul to South Africa...over land. Sigh. Now, I'm going to "agree to meet a group of partners at Shad, or plan partner movie nights and dinner outings." At the dentist today (need to use up all my insurance while I still had it), the hygenist asked me why I was moving to Boston. "My husband got into Harvard Business School." "Oh, and you're being the faithful wife." Okay, so I often say, "the dutiful wife," when questioned about the move, but there was no irony in her voice, at all! Never has anyone said that line to me straight. Yuck!

I just realized that it's seriously past my bedtime. I'll have to continue my married-lady rant another day.

Thursday, June 6

Saw a great flick last night at SIFF, No News from God. A little cliche, perhaps, but really well executed. It's a Spanish film about the battle over the soul of a boxer, fought out by two angels, one from Heaven (who knew Paris was Heaven?) and Hell (where everyone speaks English). Penelope Cruz, who I usually find rather annoying, had a real swagger about her in this film, and if it weren't for the horribly uncomfortable wooden seats in the balcony of the Egyptian Theater, I wouldn't have looked at my watch once.

Does anyone else find it at all morbid that basically for Queen Elizabeth's Jubilee, the queen is celebrating the death of her father?

The last day of work is becoming bizarrely close, which is a good thing, as yet another respected coworker has chosen to leave. But the closer the end of work comes, the sooner my road trip is! I realized how much there is to prepare--must pack, figure out where we're staying (meeting Mom in Boston), buy some interview clothes on the off chance I can get someone to give me a job interview, make a plan of attack for when I get to town. Need to figure out how I'll be spending my birthday. Doesn't feel like my birthday is coming up. I guess when you're in your mid-thirties, birthdays just stop mattering as much.

Monday, June 3

Note to self: Boxing and hangovers don't mix. 'Nuff said.

On a better note, I ran the Race for the Cure today and broke my personal mile record. Previously, my fastest mile had been in the 9:20 range, but I ran the 5k today in 26:35 (according to the race clock, which doesn't account for the fact that it took my 20 seconds to cross the start). It's hard to tell if these are true 5ks or not (sometimes they're a little longer 3.1, sometimes a little shorter), but whether this was 3 miles or 3.2, I was still running just under 9 minute miles. I've got to do these shorter races more often!

Oh, and for those curious, I finally posted a whole mess o' wedding pictures on our Web site. This is really just a sampling (there are no brunch or night at the bar pics or morning after pics and a zillion others that folks sent us). I tried to bring it down to a good selection.