Bend there, done that

I recently told Allegories that I feel like I'm living in an hourglass with the sand draining out of it. Weird things happen to people who know their lives are on a timeline. To create order out of chaos, I've made mental and written lists for myself.

When feeling stressed out, nothing helps like the feeling that you are getting somewhere:

1. "The Harry Potter Challenge" - Starting last month, I challenged myself to read the first six Harry Potter books before I see the next movie. I've never read the books and summer seemed like the best time to start. I'm already halfway through the "Half-Blood Prince" and I'm loving it. Why did I like "Twilight," again? :) The imagery is vivid and the story carries me away. Perfect, perfect summer books.

2. Make a personal best - Last week was the Pacific Crest sports festival in Sunriver, Ore. The past two years, I've run the half-marathon at gradually improving times that still hovered around the 2-hour or 2:15 mark. I always envied the people who did it in under 2 hours. But I train at 10-minute miles.

Well, last Saturday was a cold and sunny morning as my friends and I lined up, waiting for the race to start. I began fast, too fast - I needed my legs and hands to warm up, so I booked it, topping out at 8-minute-mile averages by the first seven miles. This is unHEARD of for me, you must understand.

By mile 11, I was getting worried. My legs were starting to cramp. My arms were starting to ache, not to mention my hips and knees and feet. I gave my Aleve to a guy limping from a torn IT band or something. There was no Red Bull stand this year. I needed to pee, and I needed to stretch. I looked at my stop watch and though I had blown it - there was no way I could run the remaining 2.1 miles in less than 20 minutes. So I spaced out to my music ... and then I recognized that we were close to the finish. I could hear the crowd cheering in the distance, and something deep inside me found energy reserves to pump my legs a little faster. By this point, my legs felt numb and I was sure they would crumble underneath me. I passed the next three people running ahead, obviously struggling too, gave some little kids on the sidelines a high-five and then saw Pouty taking a picture. The trail narrowed and all these people were crammed on the sidelines, clapping and cheering the racers. I heard music blasting and the announcer calling out names. 1:59:06.

3. Attack of the crazy coupon lady - Okay, times are tough. Tougher than usual. And given that I will be unemployed soon, I have to kick up my frugality. For the first time this week, I used the double-down manufacturer's coupons, which double your coupons, up to 50 cents off. They are in the Safeway ads in the Tuesday newspaper. With those, and the $10 off when you spend $50, we'll be heading to Safeway tonight to get enough food for meals for the next two weeks. This will literally save us 50% off our entire grocery bill.

4. Make money off things you don't want - I went a week or so with no good leads. What is it with people being so rude these days? Just because I am selling my belongings online doesn't mean you can flake out when you tell me to meet you at my house at a certain time. Hmph.

When I'm not acting like a curmudgeon, I am getting rid of all our big furniture before the big move east. I think the key to selling goods, whether on classified ads or in a garage sale, is to give people "steals." Too many people over-price their junk and no one buys it. You'll never get the price you paid, so lower those expectations - remember that this is going in the dump if no one buys it.

Luckily, I sold all of it in the span of two days! It amounted to probably $250, which I put straight in my savings account for when we have to buy new furniture. I feel 40 percent more ready to move already.

5. Don't cry over lost pack rats - I am taking a scalpel to my closet. All year, I've been taking things from my kitchen, bathrooms and closet to Goodwill. And I haven't stopped. I went through all my jewelry and separated out things that I loved once but haven't worn all year, things that aren't really my style anymore or things I think my sister will want. I went through all those pictures and posters I've had since college and decided they were too college-freshman-girly. Gone. I'm letting go of beautiful heels that always gain compliments but that don't fit quite perfectly so I never wear them. And gorgeous tops that I wore maybe once. All that money is a sunk cost and now I just need it away from me.

6. Making the system work for you - Family members and Pouty have told me over the years that I ought to go to grad school. What for? I always asked. You don't need a grad degree for the field I'm in, but now that I'm leaving it....After talking to a friend who's attending grad school this fall, I decided to take the GRE this summer. Test scores are good for three years, I hear, and it's a heckuva lot easier than the LSAT (Go, Pouty!).

I went online today to purchase my GRE practice book with the DVD for tests. Over Random House and Amazon.com, I went with BarnesandNoble.com, which had the best availability and price. I'm not a member, but buying books online saves you extra money with BN.com. As I was filling out the purchase order, I noticed a space for discount coupons. So I Googled "Barnes and Noble discount codes." A bunch of different Web sites popped up and I clicked on the first one. There was a collection of codes for hundreds of products and retailers - Cheerios to Victoria's Secret. The first one for Barnes and Noble was for 10% off. I jotted down the code and punched it into my BN.com order form. Voila! It worked! How random - never again will I ignore those things. So there, I paid $24 for a book that retails for more than $50 (I even saw it for over $100).

For the win...

I used my credit card to make the purchase because credit cards have more fraud protections than debit cards. Of course, I'll pay off the entire balance as soon as I get my statement. The last thing I need is to add another goal to my list: pay off ridiculous credit-card bill.

"I want to make a recipe I found that has leeks and feta in a phyllo crust."

"You mean onions and cheese in puffed pastry," my mom replied.

As I turned to her to dissect the nuances of the ingredients, I saw that she was watching me for my reaction.

"Yes," I said, smiling. "You are absolutely right."

I went ahead and made the recipe, with the original ingredients. It turned out lovely and not very complicated. Don't skip the dill. It provides a bit of a tang and makes things interesting. If I were serving this for others, I would probably include a side, like salad or bread. Recommended serving size is a bit on the small size.

I fell off the wagon.

Years ago, I started to visit a chiropractor to undo the tweaks and creaks of many years of dancing. On that visit, she adjusted the top vertebra in my neck. Loud, violent pops that made my neck feel so loose that it might just roll away. The rest of the night, my sinuses drained and my eyes watered.

That's when the addiction started.

I started to see her on a quite frequent basis to get my fix. She would bend me into a pretzel, releasing all the pressure in my back in what sounded like the cascading fall of dominos. My range of motion increased dramatically. The chronic pain I had felt for years in my hip had lessened. I diligently scheduled my next appointment based on her recommendation. You want to see me later this week? Okay. You think I should come once a week for a few months? Sure.

And then reality set in. The job I had at the time offered what I liked to call catastrophic insurance. I had a monthly premium, plus I a deductible I had to pay before insurance would start to contribute its 70 percent. I think there was only one year when I received a tiny check in late December from my carrier. Did I have health insurance? Yes. Did I ever get back what I put in all those years? No.

I was living in one of the most expensive towns in Oregon and making barely above $10 an hour. I was doing well if I could put $30 a month into savings and here I was going to the chiropractor on a regular basis for years. I once calculated that an average appointment cost $1 per 30 seconds.

Then one day I canceled an appointment, with plenty of notice, for legitimate reasons. My chiropractor hounded me for a week to reschedule. I did, but I realized I hadn't seen any actual improvement in a long time. I was maintaining where I was at, but I still had issues that were not getting better.

So I quit, cold turkey. And told myself that chiropractic was a crock and I could get better other ways. I believed it for a long time, turning to yoga, acupuncture and deep tissue massage to get at my aches and pains.

But recently, I couldn't deny that my hip/low back was hurting in a way that only a good old adjustment could fix. I tried to stretch, to walk, to massage to get it to pop, with no luck.

So I called my mom's chiropractor. He did the exam and with his chart showed how a healthy, flexible back should be green (flexible) all the way down. Mine was red, with a few pink." It's just my hip," I said, "and maybe my neck." "You must have a high tolerance for pain," he said. "This is going to be loud."

He adjustment my hip, relieving that pain I hadn't been able to get at for weeks. Then he rolled me over, put a pillow between my arms and threw his body on mine, like a WWF wrestler.

Ah, the sound of dominos, all down my back. A couple jerks of my head to get at my neck and I as good to go. Getting up from the table, I realized how inflexible I had become over time. I felt like a new person. Regular activities were much easier.

And now, I can't wait to go back to get my fix…but just one more time. I swear…

Dear Pixar,

Thank you for causing me to weep through my 3-D glasses for the entirety of “Up.”

Your company continues to impress me with its skilled story-telling. I don’t know how I would depict an animated account of the undying, timeless love that plays a central role in the story, but you did it with just a few subtle movements and well-placed symbolism.

We see the emotion, so we feel it. You did it without overdoing it.

I imagine it is not easy to make digital cartoon characters come to life in a believable way, and I applaud the way these characters are so real that we can’t help but fall in love with them.

I also applaud your ability to create a funny, entertaining movie that adults can enjoy, without cheap potty humor.

I cried in “Wall-E,” but not as much as I cried in this movie. It was a fantastical adventure. I never thought a movie about a disgruntled old man and a too-eager kiddo would make me remember the important things in life.

I am therefore enclosing a receipt for waterproof mascara.

Sincerely,
Alley

I'm at a point in life when a lot of my fellow 20-somethings are going one of two ways: settling or moving the eff on. I suppose you could call this fork in the road a midlife crisis? But who's in crisis?

I have so many friends who are getting married, buying homes, having babies and doing other things that tie themselves to a place or situation. Honestly, five years ago, I thought that would be me. I craved stability and home support. I wanted a marriage and a family and a house with a garden in front and a vegetable patch in back. I wanted a two-car garage. I wanted a secure job that I would retire from.

But now, I've found myself itching for this new adventure. My friends, quite the life changes are headed in this chick's direction.

Most of you already know this, but I'm yanking up my Pacific Northwestern roots and heading to ... The South, y'all! Luckily for me, this change was made possible by a person I'd like to call my domestic partner.

That's right, ladies and gents, I'm moving for looooove! Mr. Smartypants got a sweet scholarship to a private law school in North Carolina, so he's bringing me and the cat with him. We already found a place to live, with a fireplace and a sunroom for my plants. I can't wait to sit by our pool with my lemonade while the boy studies furiously inside.

Would I have moved this far if he weren't in the picture? Who cares.

Let's just say this couldn't come at a better time. The state and local economic situation is just short of dire, if not totally depressingly arid. So I suppose we picked the right moment to say, "Later, gaters!"

I'm already missing the Northwest, Oregon, Bend and everything that comes along with it. I'm also missing the life that I've built here, the friends, the traditions, the book clubs (sorry, ladies!). But I've lived here for four years, watched friends come and go, and now it's finally my turn.

This is my new chapter. Mine, ours. This is a change I never thought I'd accept, or want (I once said I would NEVER move away from the PNW) and yet, it all just makes sense now.

How often in life do we get to completely start over?

Both my parents moved to Washington from 3,000 miles east. Now, I'm moving the other direction, and I'm wondering if I'll come back. I just need to know what else is out there.

Sunglasses on, hair in the wind, honey, I'm leaving home.

Dear Allegories in Life,

Ever since you left, I have felt sad.

But I also haven't been shopping as much, which means I have more money, which means I am happier.

I also haven't been drinking as much, which makes me both happy and sad, but mostly happy on workday mornings because I don't have a raging headache.

I also haven't been watching "The Office," which makes me sad, but means I am going to bed earlier, which makes me happy.

I also haven't been entertaining people as much, which makes my inner Martha feel very sad.

I also have been drinking more wine alone, when I do drink, which makes me sad, causing me to drink more, be briefly happy and then sorry again the next morning.

Moving farther away from you will make me sad, but happy that you and I both will be more airport-accessible, and we can finally fulfill those promises to go to NYC together.

Sincerely,

Your friend, Write Up Your Alley

A former co-worker died last weekend. She was 67 and retired at the end of January to garden, take photographs and care for her troubled grandchildren. She worked here 14 years, staying several extra years to make sure she earned enough to live on.

More than 40 years of working toward retirement. For just four months of being retired.