Melissa, Oh?

We met in the summer of 1998, and we didn’t know yet that it would later be referred to as “THE summer.” You know, the one that tops all others. Erin invited me to be her roommate at the sorority house of which I would later become a member, and Colleen had been invited by Corinne to do the same.

There were 8 of us in the house that summer, and we had nothing to do but enjoy the sun, enjoy the booze, and enjoy the boys across the street in the fraternity house. Colleen had a boyfriend, Jimmy, so she was a little more behaved than the rest of us, but only a little.

It was an amazing summer, one that simply can’t be described unless you were there. It’s the one that makes you think of your version of “THE summer” in your life – you know the one.

Colleen and I celebrate her birthday on Saturday night. She doesn't look a day over 22.

We walked from the bar to the sorority house and stopped to swim in the fountain just because it was there. We climbed in the fire escape window because no one ever remembered their keys. We stole charters from the boys across the street after they stole ours. We stole street signs from the boys across the street after they stole them from the street. We played poker and we drank wine from a box. We grilled out as well as 8 girls can grill out – and we didn’t even laugh too hard when Ginny lit the charcoal on fire on top of the grill instead of underneath. We woke each other up for work and cooked breakfast together.

We kept tabs on each other, we took care of each other. We were good influences on each other. We were bad influences on each other. It’s the time of your life you have nothing to do but be happy to be alive.

“Ghetto Supastar” became “our” song that summer, for a reason that only made sense after a few too many PJs, but it stuck. To this day when I hear “Run away with me/To another place / We can rely on each other …” I think of Colleen. Over the next few years we spent all of our time together. We shared apartments and another summer at the sorority house. We spent our time the night before Carolina Cup dumping Sprite out of 16 oz bottles and putting Zima in its place, since we weren’t yet 21. We dressed up for Halloween, me as a flasher and she as a kitten (funny, since she hates cats.) I held her when she and Jimmy broke up. She held me when “he” asked me for a commitment I could not give, so he chose her – the sure thing – over me – the “wildcat” (As I’ve been recently nicknamed – and I love it!) We fought over nothing – the most memorable part of our fights being the time she yelled “shit” at me and Shannon bowled over laughing at the way she said it (which made her even more angry at the time!)

We didn’t pass economics together, but we did pass history. We didn’t make the Dean’s List, but we did make friends everywhere we went. We traveled together. We planned parties together. We left college and somehow found ourselves as “adults” together (ok, not really adults …) I married her brother, so she is now my sister, but I always remember she’s my best friend first.

Today she turns 30. When I met her she was almost 19. How is it that so much time has passed? Have I really known her for 11 years? I feel our time together has been 11 minutes and 11 years, all at once.

Happy birthday, Colleen. To the next 11 years. (Sheesh, by then we’ll be in our 40s …)

A memory

No, really. I’m not kidding.

It was the summer of 1998, and the boys at the fraternity house down the street were working for a security company that needed hands for their upcoming Stevie Nix concert. Looking back, it’s hilarious that the boys decided to call the sorority house for “backup security” but hey, whatever works right? They were paying something like $12/hr under the table for us to go hang out overnight to watch the venue, so a bunch of us decided to go.

We arrived in a group and the manager asked us all to come with him so he could tell us what to do/assign our posts. Except for me, who he instructed to “Stay right there. I’ll be right back.” That being my only instruction, I stood there waiting. About 30 seconds after everyone left, a huge black SUV came barreling past me. I didn’t think much of it, having been given no other instruction than to wait. Apparently, though, it should have been second nature for me to know to throw myself in front of the speeding vehicle, as I got yelled at for letting him through the open gate. Perhaps I was not cut out for this …

After that our groups were placed together, and it would be me, Erin and Will watching the main gate all night. I didn’t know Will before the night began, but it’s amazing what 7 hours overnight with someone will do to fastforward a friendship. After that we were great buddies, which was awesome news for me because he was the ID-checker at a local bar we all frequented, and I wasn’t yet 21 …

I don’t remember anything about what we all talked about. I do know it was deep and profound and meaningful, the kind of conversation you can only have in the middle of the night. I also know not a single other vehicle even approached the gate during our entire shift, so it was uneventful. Around 7 a.m. Erin couldn’t stay awake any longer and she fell asleep right there in the grass as the sun rose above us. Will and I stayed awake and protected the grounds while she slumbered, so all was good.

We didn’t get to see Stevie Nix that summer. We were too tired by the time it was all over so we all went home and crashed out. And as much fun as I had – apparently we were in the wrong group. The others had the job of protecting the bar, a job they didn’t do very well as the bar was countless beers lighter by the time that group was done … so unfair!

My brother decided to start an enlightening discussion on his blog recently about memorable places to, uhm, do your business. You can read all about that here if you want. As you will see in the comments, it got me thinking not about what goes on so much in the bathrooms but about the bathrooms themselves.

It’s no secret to those that know me that I am not a fan of public bathrooms. I’m not exactly phobic, but I will go out of my way not to use them if possible. And everything is relative – after I spend two days in the wilderness camping, the Waffle House bathroom feels luxurious. After walking around NYC for a week, pretty much any bathroom is ok. The Charlotte Observer once did a piece on the best public bathrooms in Charlotte, which I read with great interest. What about the opposite, though?

I left two comments on Kevin’s blog regarding some memorable bathroom experiences, and memorable not in a good way. I said as follows:

- In Rome I had a few scary memorable bathroom experiences. One was at a park in which there were no lights or windows in the entire concrete bathroom. Pitch black. I ended up leaving the door to the outside open, and leaving my stall door open with my hand on the door handle in case someone came in/walked by. …  I was more scared of what I couldn’t see …

- Also in Rome there was the (nice) restaurant in which I sought out the bathroom and realized it was one bathroom, 2 stalls – one for men and one for women. I quickly did my thing, not being comfortable with an idea of a man in the stall next to me, but I wasn’t fast enough: A man came in before I could finish and let’s just say he wasn’t too concerned about offending the lady in the stall next to him …

- I just thought of a time last summer in New York City. Bar was underground and full of extremely hot men, none of which were interested in me or my friend Susan, but all of whom were eying each other … we went to the bathroom, which was unisex and lit by a blacklight. And all over the toilet was something red. Resembled paint. Didn’t bother to find out – got the hell outta the bathroom and outta the bar. To this day that image haunts me. *shudders*

I will add to that some other bad bathrooms I’ve encountered:

- Portapotties/outhouses. Ok, of course these are always bad. But the first time I ever used one, I had no idea what I was in for. I was a kid away at summer camp, and woke up in the middle of the night having to pee. We were at pioneer heritage camp, meaning we slept in covered wagons. The closest bathroom was an outhouse. We took our lanterns and walked there – and there were far too many shadows on the wall to know what was in that bathroom with me – I’m sure the huge spiders that frequented our wagon were not vacant from there. After that experience I walked up to the arts and crafts building every time.

- Portapotties take 2. Carolina Cup, 1998. We were on college row and everyone was drunk. And drunk people using a portapotty … not good. The floor was soaking wet and I actually slipped. Thank heavens I did not fall. But slipping was scary enough to make me say I never ever ever want to go inside one again. In fact, my biggest fear about running a marathon is that, specifically.

- 8es bar, Athens, Ga. The worst bar bathroom I’ve seen in a long time. I’m not so good at the squatting thing – I have strong legs, but I never trust them when hovering over a toilet – and this toilet was so absolutely disgusting that if my legs had failed me, my friends would have had to rush me to the ER to get rid of whatever vile germs I would have surely picked up. Susan, being the good friend she is, told me to squat and she would hold my arms to keep me from “falling in.” I’m sure we were quite a pair in the bathroom stall that night, but she saved me from imminent illness.

- The Grill, a 24-hour diner, also in Athens, Ga. Girl in bathroom comes out and warns me to watch my step. I walk in and I’m doing my thing when I look down and … let’s just say I’m glad I was wearing boots. I told Chris to make certain I took them off before I walked inside his apartment. You do not want my shoes on your carpet, I warned him.

- Gas station bathroom, on the road to who-knows-where. It’s one of those outside-entrances ones. The bathroom light doesn’t work. I am terrified of what I’m not seeing. I crack the outside door so the sunlight will keep it from being pitch black, and I make Jeff stand guard to make sure no one comes in. “Hurry” he says, knowing what a pervert he looks like lurking outside the open door of the women’s restroom.

I’m sure there are others but those are the few that stand out … Now I ask you: What are some *bad* bathrooms you’ve encountered, and what made them so?

My apologies for the blurriness of this photo, but considering it’s of a beer card and I took the photo at a bar after having a few of these beers, I think it’s appropriate. Artistic, even? Ha, I won’t go there…

This isn’t my beer card; it’s Chris’. I’m not the one finishing the beer club at Pauley’s in Athens; he is.

Perhaps I should back up a little. This isn’t the only bar in America that has beer clubs; I know the concept is probably all-too-familiar. But this is the first one I’ve ever participated in. I don’t live in Athens but I visit often enough that I decided to give it a shot.

For me it started the day after Halloween, on a quiet night (I think UGA was playing in Florida, so the whole town was one state south). Chris, Shana and I were the only people in the entire bar that night. Our bartender was friendly and fun, and the music was good, the company was good, so we were having a good time anyway. I heard of the beer club the first time this night – figured I wouldn’t join. But John the bartender explained 2 things that convinced me otherwise: 1) it’s free, and 2) there’s no deadline. Chris had joined two days prior, and Shana signed up at the same time I did.

Then we decided to dance on the bar, but that’s a whole other story …

For the record, the bartender is changing the music, not bored as some have suggested ...

The tricky part about drinking 100 beers is you might have to drink some you don’t like. The key seems to be to mix it up – Chris’ favorites are IPAs, and he drank them all first, then complained about what was left. I don’t want to make that mistake.

Chris also decided to start decorating his beer card, which started small but has ended up with close to 100% coverage, as you see above. There are some good memories recorded on that card …

It’s now June, and I’m probably 30-something beers into my list, a number I’m actually pleasantly surprised to have accomplished considering I don’t live here.

Chris is at beer number 95, however, which means tonight is the big finish! Everyone that frequents the bar is teasing him – they all finished long ago. But I am proud – 100 beers can be a costly endeavor, especially at this bar that features some pretty high-quality beers; some are as expensive as $9 apiece.

Apparently with the last 3 beers they mix them all together in a goblet with some whiskey. Gross. And I’m really wishing I hadn’t forgotten my camera to record his face after he drinks that cocktail. He’s invited everyone he knows; we’ll all be there to cheer him on as he joins the others on the wall of accomplishment.

So, cheers to Chris! Tonight is your night.

So the great thing about having my best friend work for a hotel is a hotel discount is never too far away. Unfortunately for her, a lot of other people feel the same way and she’s constantly juggling phone calls from people wanting the hookup. She’s not-so-jokingly referred to herself many times as the “family travel agent.” While it sucks for her, it’s great for the rest of us. It has caused her problems in the past, though. She constantly has to put up her credit card to hold a room for a friend, and sometimes people just decide not to go, not thinking of the cancellation policies and now she has to pay. Then there’s the “I wanted a king bed and got two doubles” complaints or the “Wait, I wanted to stay at this hotel of yours, not that one.” Etc.

Her hookup has gotten me affordable rooms in Times Square, Philadelphia, Charlotte (night out drinking anyone? A hotel room that’s cheaper than a cab? I’ll take it!), Charleston, New Orleans … and probably many other places I’ve forgotten about over the 11 years she’s worked in the industry.

She has worked for a few different hotels, but now she is the sales manager at the Crowne Plaza in Uptown Charlotte. This means she can get the hookup at all of their hotels, which she says are: InterContinental, Hotel Indigo, Crowne Plaza, Holiday Inn, Holiday Inn Express, Staybridge Suites and Candlewood Suites.

Her company must know about how loved ones hit up their employees for cheap hotel rooms, because they created a friends and family program that works through a web site, instead of having to call Colleen and beg her for a discount. The other thing is, Colleen has said I can share this hookup, which is the point of this post. I posted a link on twitter about it and then realized almost instantly, “Wow, this sounds like spam.” So I’m writing a blog about it so you know it’s not spam, not that I know of anyway (I haven’t tried this program, but I do know the old way was awesome).

So, here’s the link. Check it out if you want. Don’t say reading this blog never did anything for you.

So, a week and a half later and the dogs are still inside and still alive, so all is well on this front …

There have been very few issues, actually. One little bathroom mishap the first time I let the dogs in my home office, but I made sure to spray all kinds of pet carpet cleaner on it so they wouldn’t “learn” the scent and think it could happen again.

Other than that:

Kishin watches me watch TV

= Kishin (the doberman/border collie mix) seems to have claimed me as “his” human. This happened when they were outside dogs as well, but he follows me absolutely everywhere. In fact, this morning I was organizing a closet and watched him run past me 4 times, panicking, looking for me, until he finally found me in the unlikely spot. This seems to make Breanna (the beagle/daschund/shepherd/whatever she is mix) uncomfortable,  so she hangs back a lot. This makes me feel guilty, and I try to “make” us all hang out together. It’s worked a few times but for the most part she runs off every chance she gets. One time Kishin chased her down in a not-so-nice way, but he didn’t do anything but stand there once he “caught” her.

= The neighborhood dogs off their leashes have got to stop. I walk these guys several times a day now (on leashes of course) and the amount of loose dogs I have seen is uncalled for. And everyone seems to think their dog will listen – that is, until their dog goes running down the street after my dog. I have to walk my dogs one at a time because of this. I could handle them both at the same time if we were only dealing with fenced-in dogs (which Kishin ignores and Breanna howls at, but only if they bark first). But I can’t control them both if an unleashed dog is approaching them. Shoot, I can’t control Kishin even by himself if an unleashed dog is in the “leash space.” The kicker this week was when the 15lb dog with an apparent death wish ran down his driveway and tried to attack Kishin (80 lbs) from behind. Not cool, dog owners. I put myself between them and yelled at the little dog’s owners to get their dog. I’m sure they think I’m a bitch (pun intended) but I’d rather them think that and save the poor little dog’s life.

= Both the dogs snore. They both bark in their sleep. They both do this cute little twitchy REM sleep thing. Not nearly as bad as this dog, but you get the point. Kishin even growled at and tried to attack a blanket in his sleep/half sleep stance the other night. It was slightly scary and very funny all at the same time.

= I never thought I’d say this, but very rarely and for just a few minutes at a time – sometimes I feel like I need time away from the dogs. With Kishin especially right next to me at all times, occasionally I’ll feel the need for some breathing room. But it never lasts more than a few minutes before I start missing them again.

= They need to be bathed frequently. At least once a week. They need to be brushed all the time, and still, the dog hair is everywhere. The robot vaccuum is doing a great job with the daily maintenance, and I’m about to do my first Dyson vaccuum since getting the Roomba – I’m curious how much it will pick up that the Roomba left behind.

= I absolutely love watching their reactions to new things. I was doing a workout-on-demand in front of the TV the other day and Breanna came running over to me, trying to lick my face as I’m doing crunches, wagging her tail and so excited for some reason. Let’s just say that set of crunches probably didn’t count for much: I couldn’t stop laughing. Kishin loves to watch TV, and he especially likes the howling wolf at the end of “Law and Order” reruns.

A week and a half later, and I’m still the happiest girl ever with my dogs beside me. Even if I do have to walk them in the rain.

Ok, I know I talk about working out waaaay too much on this blog, but this weekend was an extraordinary one so I just have to mention it.

The running

First I raced a 10K with Kevin, who totally kicked my butt (by 10 minutes) as he probably will with all races in the future. Exercising has done him a ton of good – did I tell you he’s lost about 40 lbs since New Years? Check out his blog for details on that. Me, I can’t shake the 10lbs I’ve been trying to lose forever, so I don’t know how he does it (he was a couch potato at Christmas, I swear.) We raced the Lake Wylie Splash Dash in River Hills. River Hills doesn’t get its name from nothing – it was really, really hilly. The hilliest race I’ve run. My time was 1:08:40, about 6 minutes slower than my last 10K (2008 Cooper River Bridge Run). Check it out here (look at the elevation!) The race looped around a few different streets, meaning as you’re heading into a loop, others that were ahead of you were heading out. I kept looking for guys with gray shirts and white hats, as that’s what Kevin was wearing. At one point I saw a guy in the distance and thought, “Is that Kevin?” and then it wasn’t. Then I saw Kevin for real – and woah, he is way skinnier than that guy. The first guy was more like Kevin’s pre-Christmas build. That’s when it really hit me how much weight he’s lost. I need to get on his workout plan.

My grandmother, Mia, came to watch us race – this was her first race ever. It was so awesome having her there at the finish line. Jenn brought their girls too; the first time my nieces have seen me race (they’ve seen Kevin race, and he and Jenn actually ran a 5K a couple of weeks ago and Kevin ran with the jogging stroller, so it was the girls’ first 5K as well!). After the race my 2-year-old niece, also named Mia, grabbed my hand and then said “You’re sweaty,” in her cute 2yo voice. Then she said “Just a little bit though.” We all went to breakfast at Cafe 49 in Lake Wylie. Was good but even looking at the pancakes made me full; I couldn’t even eat one of them.

I ended up placing 108 out of 122. Wow, I’ve never been that close to the bottom before. But Kevin and I were talking the night before – the race course was described as “challenging” so we wondered if it would bring out more hard-core runners and fewer joggers. There was also a 5K race and 5K walk, so I’m guessing many of the people that usually would come in behind me might have chosen one of those instead. I’m not unhappy with my time, but I’m definitely going to figure out a plan for working on speed. Tempo runs, here I come!

———–

The biking

Used to be after a race I’d be worn out the rest of the day. That seems to not be the case anymore, though. Kevin has asked me if I would ever do triathlons. I haven’t said no exactly, but I’m not a strong swimmer or cyclist, so I’d have a huge learning curve to say the least. I told him I’d like for him to show me some tips for swimming laps. I took lessons as a kid and I love the water – but as far as hard-core swimming goes, basically: I know how to not drown. I haven’t swum laps in probably 20 years. He’s a member of  Leroy Springs Complex in Fort Mill, the p0ol we grew up swimming in, but I have a neighborhood pool (Junior Olympic size.) So after the race he went home and helped Jenn put the girls down for a nap, then cycled over to my house.

I don’t own a bike, but I have borrowed a bike thinking I would ride and have never done it. I always put it off because I don’t have a helmet, so I thought riding outside of my neighborhood or a trail with no cars would be a silly thing to do. I told Jeff this and he mentioned that I could borrow his bike helmet – I know this sounds silly, but I always thought they were custom fit so I wouldn’t be able to wear his. When Kevin got there I asked him if we could go for a ride before we went to the pool (even though he’d just biked 9 miles over.) I’m glad he was there – he helped me get air in the tires and fix some squeaky brakes or something to keep me from crashing into a tree. We rode for about 6.5 miles. It was my first time on a bike for any length of time for years. I will say cycle classes have paid off – I knew a little about form from them, and the muscles I was using were familiar. I’ve always been terrified of cars on the bike and I did feel safer with Kevin – like maybe with 2 of us they would see us better than if it was just me.

We rode about 5 miles. Check it out here. (Includes the one mile home I rode after swimming, so 6 miles total).

Getting on and off the bike was and still is the hardest part for me. Probably didn’t help that I was wearing a running skirt that kept catching on the seat every time I’d try to get on the bike. Note to self: shorts are better. Also, I know this sounds silly, but left-hand turns are very daunting. Not only do you have to take a hand off the bike to signal, but you have to then look behind you for cars and not fall off. And turn. I know it just takes practice, so I will practice.

———–

The swimming

I was so excited, thinking I would get to log running, biking, and swimming into my workout log for the day! But my neighborhood pool was mayhem. We got in during adult swim and we had about 15 minutes of good time there. Kevin started with the basics – teaching me how to find my balance in the water. It sounds simple, and it is, but wow it was nice to have the tips. I’m sure I learned all of this years ago but swimming has become so instinctual that I don’t always think about the basics. We did a few slow laps with me focusing on balancing. Everything was going perfectly, and then: Adult swim over. Wow. You would think that kids (or their parents) would at least have a little respect for the one tiny piece of the pool we wanted to use, but no such luck. Kids were jumping in on top of us, playing Marco Polo right in our lane (so we moved to another area, and they subsequently moved their game to our area.) Some kid sprayed us with a super-soaker type thing. The waves were way too crazy to even think about balance. So we called it a day. I figured the slow laps weren’t even enough to log, so no official swimming.

The pool is open until midnight so I’m hoping one of these days Kevin will come over around 8 p.m. or something after all the little brats are in bed (no offense, parents) and we can try again. I could go to the Complex but they charge $10 for guests and that could add up.

———–

After that, I biked home from the pool (about a mile) and called it a day! Took a good nap after all that, and complained about the sunburn I got despite 3 applications of sunblock throughout the day.

Am I going to be a triathlete? Again, very far off, but I am super-excited about this cycling thing. Looking forward to getting my own bike and being able to use it as transportation. Now that I know all the places I can run, I can’t help but get excited thinking of all the places I could cycle!

But my friends at poetry assignment are rockin it! Please remember to check out their work and give them some comment love.

In the meantime and to try to get back into the spirit of things, I have been designing a poetry book of my work, hoping that looking at it will bring back my poetry-writing muse. Check it out – what do you think?

My dog woke me up at 5 a.m. to go to the bathroom, which seems terrible but the silver lining was that my alarm was going to go off 40 minutes later (yes, 40 minutes is 40 minutes, but still) for my morning run. As I was already up before the moon even decided to say goodnight, it was easy to get out the door at 5:45 (when there is just enough light that cars will see me, but early enough that most drivers aren’t yet on their morning commute.)

I took my other dog with me for this run; I haven’t been taking them lately but now that they are inside dogs they need to exercise! I tried a new loop – most of which I had run before but not ever all at once. I ended up walking a lot of it for various reasons (trying to make sure I don’t injure it anything ahead of my 10K on Saturday, plus Kishin looked tired so I didn’t want to push it.) By the time I was on the last 2 miles (it was a 6.85 mile loop), there were streams of cars out. I can’t win. I can’t go early enough to avoid traffic and not be running in darkness. I don’t want to run circles around my neighborhood just because there are no sidewalks. The middle of the day seems to work fine but it’s just too darn hot during the summer months.

At one point Kishin and I were walking on Marvin School Road, and a pickup pulled out of a neighborhood. He was driving recklessly fast in order to cut off the car driving down Marvin School. It was obvious he didn’t see me or the big black dog. I panicked and yanked Kishin’s leash toward the grass, but before I could get both of us safely off the road, he was already barreling down on us. I never saw his face (or hers, I suppose; I imagine it was a him in the F-150 – F250 – whatever it was with writing on the side), but he must’ve seen us at the last minute because he swerved wildly in order to avoid hitting us.

Truthfully I was more worried about Kishin then myself. I have this fear of us getting into an accident and the ambulance comes and takes me away – but who would take time to get him to the emergency vet? Luckily, we turned out just fine and the greatest physical impact was a pounding heart and shaky hands. It angers me, though. I’m angry at Union County for not seeing the need for sidewalks and bike lanes out here in the suburbs. I’m angry at drivers who don’t understand the need to share the road. I’m angry at myself for not playing it safe and running in circles in my neighborhood (come on, folks, that’s boring!)

I posted my experience on Facebook and Twitter and Justin responded with: “More people should run, walk or cycle, if only to see the road from another perspective. Drivers rarely think there’s anyone other than other cars out there.” It’s so true, too. Ever since I started running these roads I have become more cautious as a driver. I told Justin: “I see the road so differently now that I’ve run it. I take curves more slowly in areas I know a lot of cyclists frequent. I swerve really wide to avoid runners or cyclists – no reason to give anyone a heart attack! And I go especially slow around people with dogs – animals are so unpredictable.”

I hate having to run on the side of the road, where the roadkill finds its final resting place and the county doesn’t mow nearly enough. I hate that I run unbalanced with my dog because I have to pull him to the left or else he’ll run right where the traffic should be. Sidewalks would make everything easier.

To add insult to injury, my computer gave me some sort of Java error when I tried to upload my run from my Garmin Forerunner 405 to the web site. Somehow the run didn’t upload, but it did erase it off of my watch. I was really curious to see the map of this new route, too. What a day.

In happy running news, however, I have my first 10K of the year on Saturday in River Hills (anyone who is familiar with River Hills is saying “Is she crazy?” right about now. It’s not named Hills for no reason …) Kevin and I are both running, and Jeff and Jenn and my nieces and my uncle and my 93-year-old grandmother are coming out to watch. It’s my grandmother’s first race! I joked that I was going to try to beat Kevin but I have a feeling those days are over. Unless I trip him at the finish line. If I can catch him.

Update: Kevin said his Garmin did the same thing yesterday, and he sent me this fix:

Manual Upload for Vista users:

1. Confirm that you have installed the Garmin ANT Agent™.
2. Go to the Upload page.
3. Select Manual Upload button.
4. Click the Browse button.
5. Go to C:\users\username\Application Data\Local Low\Roaming\GARMIN\Devices\, click the numbered folder, then click History folder.
6. Select the appropriate file to upload (each file is named by the date of the activity).
7. Click Upload activities from file button.
 

And it worked! Here it is in case you want to see …

Anyone who knows Jeff probably thinks this is either April Fool’s Day or I’ve just completely revolted against his no-dogs-in-the-house policy. Neither of these are true.

Seven years ago, when Jeff and I moved in together, we compromised regarding the dogs: I could have them, but they had to live outside. I agreed, as Breanna was about a year old and still very annoying, and the thought of not having to walk her in the middle of the night when I got off work from my editor job sounded really great.

I have been begging him to change that rule ever since.

Today I sit here typing and Kishin is napping beside me. I am the happiest girl in the world with my dogs beside me.

But, if you know Jeff you are probably wondering how the heck this happened. I, too, am scratching my head a little bit and wondering – but I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth!

For several months (years, really) he has given me clues he was thinking about it … mentioning that one day, with the landscaping done in the backyard (hence, no mud, therefore no muddy dogs) that maybe we could let them inside. Or if we moved to a house uptown we could have the dogs inside since we would have no yard. I’ve countered that if they could be inside in a condo, why not a house? And he always said the house was too big – too many corners for them to hide in, chew things up in, pee in, whatever. But the dogs are getting older and calmer, less annoying and less likely to do a lot of damage.

A few weeks ago he casually mentioned that if we were to get an iRobot Roomba then we could let the dogs in the house. I shrugged off the comment – I knew what he meant: months, years from now, hypothetically. I’ve spent too much time getting my hopes up and then being disappointed; he was crying wolf. Plus, who cares about a robot vaccuum; Ronnie hooked us up with his Dyson before he moved to California and I absolutely love it.

Then I visited Jenny in Greenville and Chris in Athens; I took Breanna with me. She’s a great inside dog now, and I love bringing her to visit. I got a text from Jeff right before I left Athens saying “Hurry back! Kishin needs a bath.” I wondered why he cared if Kishin was dirty – does that mean Kishin is coming inside? Nah.

But I returned home to a clean Kishin drying in the driveway and a Roomba in the living room. And a list of rules Jeff came up with after much research about making outside dogs inside dogs: No dogs on couches, in beds or out of crates while we’re not home. No going upstairs without being escorted. And I’m in charge (meaning I walk them, I clean their messes, etc.)

And then, just like that: they’re inside!

A few things I’ve noticed:

= Breanna is spending a lot more time in her crate here than she did in Athens. I’m pretty sure she’s angry at Kishin’s mere existance. She spent time without him in Greenville in Athens and now she’s back: he missed her like crazy and she could care less about him; he’s like an annoying little brother (no offense, Kevin!)

= The dogs seem to be working to establish dominance all over again inside. They had 2 minor scuffles yesterday; hopefully they’ll work it out soon.

= Kishin follows me around everywhere. I absolutely love it. I do have to get used to having a 4-legged extension of me, but I welcome it. They both listen very well when I told them not to follow me upstairs; Kishin sits at the bottom of the steps and cries until I come back down.

= They both know not to use the bathroom inside. I have no idea how Kishin knows this as he’s never been an inside dog before. They do seem confused when I walk them, however: I think they are expecting that we are going on a run, so it’s taken several trips outside before they’ve stopped pulling me like they think we will be out for miles. In Athens, Breanna knows when we go outside that she is going to the bathroom. I’m guessing they still expect to be stuck in the backyard here; thus, not worrying about using the bathroom too much. They are catching on quickly, though, and they’re already a lot faster about doing their business than they were the first night.

The Roomba is pretty cool, for anyone who is wondering. I used to think it seemed lazy – I mean, how long does it take to vaccuum, really? But with the dogs here now, I notice how quickly the hair seems to blanket the floor. Vacuuming every day is not ideal, even as easy as it is. This thing is great: All I have to do is push a button every day to keep the dog hair off the floors? Not bad. The downstairs in my house is very open; not a lot of walls between rooms. The Roomba does seem to have a hard time covering every part equally – I noticed it kept wandering into the dining room even after it was clean, and it hadn’t yet found the kitchen. It does come with some virtual walls that I don’t quite understand how to use yet, so maybe that will help. So far I think it’s totally worth it. It doesn’t work as well as the Dyson, but I don’t have to do anything but push a button. That rocks.

The best part of the first day with my dogs? Taking a nap (on the floor of course, since they’re not allowed on the couch or in a bed) with Kishin curled up next to me. You can’t beat that.