Ode to air-conditioning and a clean house ...

Oh, air conditioning, how I miss thee.

No, seriously -- my A/C isn't working right; it's *working* (very hard, I might add), but not so much cooling the air. The ceiling fans are helping a lot -- thank goodness for that -- but the air blowing out of the vents? Not so much chilly.

I've let my landlord know, and it's the one time that I'm just a little glad that I don't own a house -- I am so not interested in footing an A/C repair bill right now!

Also -- my house is in desperate need of cleaning, or more properly, straightening. My back has been such a wreck that I've been coming in, setting down my things, and leaving them there, and that does *not* make for a serene, organized environment, or a happy Katie.

Ugh. Anyone want to send me a maid?

"Don't panic."

That was the title of the workshop on Packing for the 3-Day that I attended at the 3-Day Expo on Saturday in King of Prussia.

(Sidebar: I happened to spend 4th through 6th grade living in Valley Forge, about five minutes from the hotel where the 3-Day Expo was located. I've driven around there since I've lived in Delaware, but still ... it was cool.)

But -- I have to say: now that I've been to the Expo, which was actually pretty cool, I'm totally panicking. A lot. Seriously.

And let me tell you why.

First, because I'm afraid that now that my back is a hot mess, and preventing me from walking as much as I should be -- at least till I get dosed with another round of steroids injected into my spinal column (and no, that doesn't make me nervous ... should it?) -- that I'm going to DIE midway through Day 1.

Hopefully the injections will get scheduled soon -- my appointment with the pain management doc is on 8/3, and I'm not sure how I'm going to make it till then. I was completely unpleasant to be around at work today, 'cause taking the big drugs at work makes me not-so-alert, and I've got shit to do. In the meantime, while there's shooting pain running down my right leg and my back is throbbing, steer clear.

[Note: I managed to herniate two discs a little more than two years ago -- May '07 -- and had very successful 'selective nerve root block' injections in September '07. They're wearing off -- but I'm totally lucky that they've lasted this long: the doc said at the time that they might only last 6 months!]

Second, I'm now terrified of blisters. Have you had any blisters, you ask? No. But still. The doctor giving the presentation on 'Be Kind to Your Body' scared the living daylights out of me. You're supposed to do *something* with Vaseline -- only as much as you would put on your lips -- but I'm not sure what. Rub it on your feet, perhaps, which seems ... gross.

Third, I do *not* have the equipment I need for this expedition. I need a large duffel bag, capable of holding my sleeping bag, sleeping pad, clothing, toiletries, etc., which must weigh in at no more than 35 pounds. I need more walking attire. I need more socks, many more pairs of socks. I need a visor. I need some 3-Day attire -- I don't even have anything pink!

I also should apparently be getting used to drinking Gatorade -- which I hate -- alternately with my water while walking. Gatorade tastes like sweat. Seriously. Ugh.

So -- and I'm sure this is normal: I'm now TOTALLY FREAKED OUT about walking 60 miles in three days, less than three months from now.

I still have a little bit of money left to raise (please click the widget at right to give, and if you've already given -- you're awesome, and thank you!), but mostly, I am now officially terrified of what I probably should've been worried about all along.

When cooler heads prevail, remind me to tell you more about having dessert on Saturday evening at Betty's Speakeasy in Center City, Philadelphia -- a fabulous new bakery & confectionery that Josh's roommate Susan works at. Liz, the owner, is lovely, and the fudge & treats are amazing. Try the lavender mint fudge, and ask what Susan's 'scone of the day' is!

Things I know ...

- that dark chocolate mini Reese's cups exist, and are FAR superior to their milk chocolate buddies.

- that Jane Austen is far better with a side of zombies (Seriously. You've got to read 'Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.' OMG. It's high-larious. Seth Grahame-Smith is the mastermind behind this work of hysterical brilliance.)

- that pearls aren't so much a punchline when you rock whatever you're doing while wearing them.

- that chocolate chip pancakes and Dawson's Creek are sure to cure most anything that ails you.

- that I really, really (did I say 'really?') want to open a bakery, even more so after seeing J.'s great photos from The Bombon Cafe in Chicago's ritzy Gold Coast neighborhood.

- that I've walked so much over the past few months that the 10-mile walk on Saturday morning before the 3-Day Expo in King of Prussia is not deterring me from making plans to wander around Philly later that afternoon.

- that I need more sleep than I'm getting currently.

- that two years is a fabulous amount of time for the selective nerve root block injections to last in eliminating pain from a herniated disc, and having to think about another round of them is not that stressful.

The most to say ...

Why is it that when you (and yes, by 'you,' I really mean 'I') have the most to say to someone or about something, the best that comes out is 'I don't know?'

But I *do* know. I have a whole dissertation on the topic! Geez, Katie, just spit it out already!

In emotionally unrelated news, my back hurts after my walk this morning. I think I twisted funny or something -- though, after the herniated disc drama of 2007, it doesn't really even take a twist to cause a potential problem. I'm hoping that being quiet & gentle (despite the shopping for group home decor that I need to go and do) -- and taking Advil like it's my job -- will get me back on track, without the need for more advanced intervention.

But first -- a shout-out to Walt's Flavor-Crisp Chicken and their amazing sweet potato pie.

Alright -- going to get that shopping done. Yuppie holy trinity: Target, Pier One & IKEA, here I come!

Wow.

So -- June was not an exceptionally chatty month here on the old blog ... which is funny, because I feel like a) there's been a lot going on, and b) I've had a lot to say about it. 

The 'Wow.' in the title, however, refers not to the suspicious lack of postings (and btw, Jen Lancaster was weeks without posting, too -- so there! Definitely check out her link to 'why George R. R. Martin is not your bitch,' while you're over there.) and your presumed happiness at my resurfacing, but to the eight-mile training walk that I rocked this morning.

I've been fairly decent about keeping up with my walking, but have definitely drifted somewhat from the schedule (because, you see, of the lots of things going on). I was totally worried about the walk this morning (and almost convinced myself to skip it -- twice), but I thought that at the very least, I'd show up, and see how it went. 

It was great! I really, really like walking with other 3-Day walkers, especially women who have done the 3-Day before. It's great to hear what the experience was like for them, and it's also totally reassuring to meet people who have *done* this, and are doing it again.

But -- let me say this: eight miles is a long way. Depending on how you might know me, let me break this down into different geographic examples for your reference.

- Eight miles is roughly the distance from Chicopee to the Orchards Golf Course.

- Eight miles is roughly the distance from my mom's house to Stone Belt -- via a very circuitous route through town on Tapp, then Walnut, then 3rd Street, then up the by-pass.

- Eight miles is approximately the distance from my house to the Christiana Mall (Delaware's finest tax-free shopping!). 

- Eight miles is just slightly less than walking from the Philadelphia Art Museum to the IKEA on Columbus Blvd.

At any rate -- and hopefully you get the picture -- eight miles is more than we typically think of as 'walking distance.' But it was totally great.

And I'm doing six more miles tomorrow. Meet me at Delcastle! :) Oh -- and please: click on one of the widgets at right, and give your spare change to help me reach my goal and help Susan G. Komen throw money in the right direction -- toward finding a cure!