As of Late–and Oh By the Way, I’m a Gypsy. All I Need Now Is a Caravan. And Yes, I Like Daigs.

Hey! I still have a blog, well I still pay for the domain name, sooo … you know, who’s judging? And if you are, stop, it’s not cool. BUT I figured that I would bring everyone up to speed on my life and what I’ve been up to and such so that I can then tell you about what I am going to be doing, and hopefully post more often with really interesting stuff that everyone wants to read … everyone, or just whoever ends up here and wants to read about me … not too picky!

I used to be (still am at heart, and hope to be one again soon) a San Francisco Sooner, but as of late I have been more like a gypsy. So, in a nutshell, here are the last … meh … 6-8 months of my life.

In early 2011, I decided that I was going to take the LSAT in June and go to law school starting in the fall of 2012. So I studied my little ass off, took the LSAT, and semi-recently submitted all my applications to several schools—now I’m just waiting to hear back and decide where I will be attending school this fall! Simultaneously, I moved from San Francisco on June 27th, and since then have been pretty much everywhere in the western half of the United States. I went frommmm …

SF to Oklahoma

4th of July with BFF Sarah at Grand Lake

Oklahoma to Denver

Visiting Grandma in the hospital with my nephew Trayson.

Denver to North Dakota

Driving from Colorado to North Dakota …
Somewhere in Wyoming on my way to ND

North Dakota to Colorado and back to North Dakota

Dad, Brother, Brother … Supposed to be helping me drive …

North Dakota to Chicago and back to North Dakota

Chicago with BFF Sarah and Ashley!
Wrigley Field!
Annnddd back to ND!

North Dakota to Oklahoma

Me and the Betch twins at good ole Scooters!

Oklahoma to Houston

Houston for my cousin Natalie’s wedding!!

Houston to San Francisco

Outside Lands 2011 in SF!
OSL 2011!

San Francisco to North Dakota

Gorgeous sunsets in ND!

North Dakota to San Francisco

Breathtaking SF sunrise!
So incredible!

San Francisco to Corvallis

Workin!

Corvallis to Dallas

OU/tx!
The game with Matt & Tay!

Dallas to San Francisco

Chillin’ with my loves at the beach!

San Francisco to Corvallis

The Oregon Coast

Corvallis to San Francisco

Hangin’ out in my old ‘hood!

San Francisco to Eugene

More work!

Eugene to San Francisco

Halloween with Kels!

San Francisco to Oklahoma

Good to be home! OU/a&m game!
OU/a&m with Sar, Taylor, Cassey, and Kristen!
OU/osu in Stillwater
Suffering through the cold & losing with Taylor!

Oklahoma to San Francisco

Love this city!

San Francisco to Oklahoma

Tacky Christmas Party with BFF Sarah!
We’re not always hideous!
A merry Christmas with my family!

Oklahoma to Dallas

NYE in Dallas with my loves!
Roommate Reunion! Love Meechelleee!

Dallas to Oklahoma

Don’t forget about the cutest dog ever … LOLA!

Oklahoma to San Francisco

Hanging out with Jeremiah & Co. at the beach!
Beautiful SF sunset!

San Francisco to Oklahoma

There are some beautiful sunsets here too!

And now that we are up to speed … I’d like to inform you that the current theme of gypsy life will be continuing into the near and foreseeable future. Why, you ask? Well because I purchased this sweet backpack:

and a one-way ticket to Auckland, New Zealand to kick off my Round-the-World trip!

I’m gonna let all of that info sink in and fill you in on my trip planning and details shortly! And you are welcome for that sweet finger exercise you got from all that scrolling! Boom!

♥Nikki

TTFNSF, Ta Ta For Now, San Fran!

San Francisco, it’s been real. As I sit here on my flight from SFO to OKC, With my 6 50-pound bags checked below, and my 3-pound dog in her carrier at my feet, I cant help but feel a little apprehensive. I am leaving an amazing city behind, where I have made amazing friends who helped me forge some amazing memories. But I sigh in relief knowing that all I’m really leaving is the city, because my friends are very much a part of me, and the memories engrained in my soul–and I know the city will always be there, ready to welcome me back with its weird, accepting arms the second I decide I’ve been away too long. I smile at the thought of being able to spend quality time with my family and friends that I left behind in Oklahoma, I feel my stomach knot with anticipations about what the future holds, I squirm with excitement knowing that whatever it is, it will be an adventure.

One of my newest friends, Jeremiah, and I were having a conversation a few days ago about our favorite books, and books that change your perspective, books that give your life new meaning, but mostly books that I should read. He suggested that I read The Prophet, and so I did. In one day (not due to my superb reading skills, which are superb—it’s just pretty short). I started it and couldn’t put it down. Right from the beginning it spoke to me:

How shall I go in peace and without sorrow? Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city.

Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret?

Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing that walk naked among these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them without a burden and an ache.

It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands.

Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but a heart made sweet with hunger and with thirst.

Yet I cannot tarry longer.

The sea that calls all things unto her calls me, and I must embark.

For to stay, though the hours burn in the night, is to freeze and crystallize and be bound in a mould.

Fain would I take with me all that is here. But how shall I?

A voice cannot carry the tongue and the lips that give it wings. Alone must it seek the ether.

And alone and without his nest shall the eagle fly across the sun.

As I fly toward my future, I am making plans for world travels, for law school, and for new adventures. But I fly with a renewed awareness that every day needs to be relished in its beauty, every moment needs to be seized, and memories need to be made; appreciate the time you have, the time you’re in, and the people you’re in the now with, for tomorrow it will be a new day, and today gone forever.

♥Nikki

Hope You Brought Some Dawn, Cuz Shit’s About to Get Sappy! … You Know, Cuz Sap Is Sticky … And Soap … Nevermind …

Holy sheesh it’s been a long time since I last posted anything. I felt like, if I was going to break the silence, I would have to write something really, really good. But … then I got over that, and here we are … :)

Well, it’s been an interesting time indeed. A year and a half has passed since I graduated college and left everything I have ever known behind. There are days where I feel like the me today and the me I had been for 21 years have nothing left in common other than a name, and then there are times when I feel like I am more “me” than ever. In reality, I think that it is a mixture of both of those things. I have grown an incredible amount, learned valuable lessons, and have taken some huge steps down the path that, I think, will lead me to where I eventually wish to be.

The only constant my time spent in San Francisco has afforded me is change. I have lived in three different apartments in two different cities, lived with six different people, and had two different jobs. I learned the ins and outs of a public transportation system, and then got a Vespa. Then I learned that there are a lot of one-way streets in the city, and just when I was getting the hang of it, I got hit by a car. Every time I would get into a rhythm, life would throw a curve ball my way. I think I even got hit with a couple pitches. Life can be a real bitch like that sometimes. But all that has taught me to welcome challenges, embrace change, and loathe monotony.

Because if you don’t welcome challenges, they’re just gonna do a B&E (breaking and entering … duh!) on your ass, steal all your shit, and then make you file a police report and deal with insurance bullshit for 7 months … then you’ll be saying, “Why didn’t I just invite Challenges over for a fucking dinner party, we could have eaten lasagna and played charades … then none of this would be happening.” And if you don’t embrace change, it will just wrestle you into a sleeper hold until you pass out, but then when you come to, Change is still sitting on your chest, asking if you’re ready to hug it out or if you would like to have another encounter with unconsciousness … like an annoying little brother (note: I said an, not my, love you Tommy) who all the sudden realizes he is big enough to beat the crap out of you. Your brother isn’t going to get smaller and you’re going to end up embracing change one way or another, you can chose for it to be a loving embrace or a choke hold of doom …but it’s got to happen. And if you don’t loathe monotony, like, I mean, be a total raging bitch to it, it will move in without your permission, post up on your couch, never let you watch what you want to watch on TV, not pay its share of rent, take really long showers right before you until there is no hot water left, eat all your food, and wake you up 9 minutes before you were planning on getting up … EVERY morning. You have to be persistent in the pursuit of the not so mundane, or your life will be … mundane. Unless, obviously, those those things sound appealing to you, and if that is the case … then do the exact opposite of what I just said. To each their own. :)

While learning to handle new and exciting challenges is, well, new and exciting, it is also important to figure out what truly matters to you. What is the one aspect of your life that, if it were removed, would rock you to your core? What’s a great job if you have nobody to celebrate your achievements with, what are monumental life moments if no one is there to reflect upon them with you, what is success if experienced alone, what is anything worth anything if no one is there to laugh with you, to cry with you, to be angry with you, to be angry at you, to be happy for you, to be sad for you, to care for you, to love you?

To my family, and to my friends, you truly mean the world to me. To my parents, who have taught me to be compassionate, accepting, proud, and independent.

To my brothers, who have shown me that life is not fair, that things worth having don’t come easy, that losing isn’t fun, and that driving the speed limit is way boring.

To my best friend in the world, Sarah, for always, always being on my side, for teaching me to be able to laugh at myself, for encouraging me to always speak my mind, and for never saying “I told you so.”

To Michelle, who has bolstered my feistiness, introduced me to SDHs, and shown me how to dance like no one is watching, especially when you know people are watching.

To Taylor, for showing me how it is to be a completely open and warm person, and that there is always room for comic relief.

To Laura, for always listening, always knowing when to tell me what I need to hear, and liking Harry Potter as much as I do.

To Kenneth, who showed me that I’ll never be too mature to have a great time and that a lot can be said with few words (maybe I haven’t fully grasped that concept yet).

To Kathryn, who taught me to roll with the punches and always keep an eye out for adventure.

To Casi, who taught me that no matter how crappy things can be sometimes, its always better when you have friends.

To all my friends that I have met along the way, thank you for taking the time to make me a part of your life.

Thank you all for supporting me, for picking me up when I fall flat on my face, for not making me feel bad for falling on my face, for celebrating me, for cheering me on, for giving me pep talks when things get tough, for loving me, for all that you do, for making me who I am, but most of all, for being you.

A very wise, very best friend once said, “Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t me. So that I could be friends with me.” Well, in case you’re all wondering what it would be like to be friends with you, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

♥Nikki

Roofdecks, Creeks and Ponds, Airplanes, New Crews, a Blogging Dog, Football, and Why I Love Weekends

One of my favorite things about living in this city is the endless list of things to do, at any time, on any night. I grew up in the town that invented boredom … so I’m pretty psyched that the only time I get to be bored is when I choose to be.

Pond Creek, Oklahoma folks. The most exciting thing here is the sky.

But choosing to be bored is more like relaxing … so I am literally never bored. And not only are there a ton of things to do, there are a ton of AWESOME things to do.

Case in point: The weekend of October 9th and 10th.

Saturday was obviously occupied with college football, and since my beloved Sooners had a bye, I thought I would show some Pac-10 schools some love. And by some, I mean 4 (even though I officially hate UCLA because of this weekend—or at least their fans). The day started with a little saunter across the Bay to my old haunt, Berkeley, where we watched the Cal Bears destroy the UCLA Bruins … courtesy of the awesome Lien family (thanks guys!).

The weather was gorgeous and so I thought it would be stupid to pass up the offer to roll down south to Palo Alto and cheer on Lori’s Trojans who were playing Stanford. Even though Stanford ended up beating USC, it was still an awesome game and I had tons of fun. And I got to see the Stanford campus which is pretty incredible. OH. And I got to eat In-N-Out. And ride in a car that wasn’t a taxi, which is always a treat. So, all in all, a pretty solid Saturday.

On Sunday, I woke up, took a book and my trusty steed to Duboce Park, and lay in the sun reading for a couple hours. Then I got the call from Kathryn. Fleet week and roofdeck BBQing were ON! So I rounded up Lola, and headed to Nob Hill for some prime viewing of frickin’ awesome aeronautical stunts.

The City by the Bay, Californ-I-A.

The awesome view from Kristen's roofdeck.

Lola and I sat on Kristen’s fabulous roofdeck with our new “crew,” ate hot dogs and grapes, and watched the skies in amazement. Check it out:

Kristen, Me, Ben, Kathryn

The Roofdeck Crew

Blue Angels!

And, okay, I don’t know about you … but this seriously freaked me out:

Phew! So glad nothing bad happened!

Then I finished up the day with some hot wings, beer, and Sunday Night Football.

Stay tuned for the next chapter, my most recent awesome weekend, in this book that is Nikki’s Awesome Weekends.

In case you missed it … Lola has a blog that she updates every day with either a picture or video of her cute self … and a Twitter, @thedailylola, where she tweets about what she blogs about … which are pictures and/or vidoes. Follow her to get your daily dose of cuteness.

♥Nikki

My Love Affair with Football, Specifically the Oklahoma Sooners

Omg! Omg! Omg! OH MAW GAWD! I don’t know if you know this, but football season is my favorite season of the year. And this weekend is my favorite weekend of the season. This weekend is OU/texas—quite possibly the biggest college football rivalry of all time.

I know some people don’t like college football, or football, or sports at all. If you are one of those people, let me tell you something: I bet you can’t go to an OU football game and not understand why we love this thing so much. And I say thing because it is not just a game, it is not just a sport, it is a way of life. It is an overwhelming sense of pride for everyone who is a part of it. It makes memories that will last a lifetime. It makes going to college worth every penny. For those of you who don’t know what I am talking about, I would like to share a little HUGE piece of my world with you. For those of you who know exactly what I’m talking about, well, this is for you too. Because it never gets old.

Some of the many reasons why I love OKLAHOMA FOOTBALL!

(Click on the links to watch the videos, I promise they’re short. Sorry I couldn’t embed the videos, I’ll be upgrading to .org soon so this won’t be a problem-o!)

The Intro Video (vid)

The Boomer Sooner (vid)

The Land of the Sooners (vid: skip to min 1:26)

The Sooner Spirit (vid)


The Sooner Magic (vid: Skip to 18 second mark)

And of course … the tailgating!

You might think it’s strange that watching these videos and being at the games literally makes me want to cry, but believe me, on Saturday in Norman, Oklahoma, I know that the other 82,111 people in the stadium with me feel the same way.

I’m a Sooner born,
And a Sooner bred,
And when I die
I’ll be Sooner dead.

Rah, Ohlahoma! Rah, Oklahoma!
Rah, Ohlahoma! O-K-U!

This is OKLAHOMA football! Boomer SOONER! Texas SUCKS!

♥Nikki

This Is What Happens When You Make a Life-To-Do List on Your 3rd Cup of Coffee: Motivation, Yeah!

Ack!!! Do you ever have those days (or months) where you really think about all the things that you need to get better at in your life? Then you just start thinking about all the things that other people do and you don’t, and then you just start feeling terrible about yourself. And then you start thinking about how awesome you would feel about yourself if you did all the things that you aspired to do. And then you think about what it would take to get your life up onto that level of awesomeness. And then you get exhausted because even thinking about doing that much work is exhausting. And then you think about how easy it would be to rest on your laurels and just fight through the days where you can’t stop thinking about all the things that you should be doing. And thinking about doing nothing is a lot easier than thinking about doing something. And doing something requires a plan. And then that plan has to be executed, which takes work. And thinking about all the thinking and planning and executing is making you want to stop thinking and just enjoy resting on your laurels. And then you decide that nothing is the easiest thing to do and therefore you do it.

Well,  NOT TA-DAY!

You’ve been telling yourself you’re going to wake up earlier. Do it.

You’ve been telling yourself you’re going to work out more. Do it.

You’ve been telling yourself you’re going to read more. Do it.

You’ve been telling yourself you’re going to stick to your goddamn budget. Effing do it.

You’ve been telling yourself you are going to learn a new skill. Do it.

You’ve been telling yourself you are going to volunteer. Do it.

You’ve been telling yourself you are going to stop drinking caffeinated beverages. That’s retarded, don’t do that. See what you do when I have lots of caffeine? You make awesome lists. That are daunting and intimidating. But because you have coffee you can do it. Because you have coffee. You can.

You’ve been telling yourself you’re going to bring your lunch to work. Do it.

You’ve been telling yourself you’re going to blog weekly. Do it.

You’ve been telling yourself you are going to start saving money. Do it.

You’ve been telling yourself you are going to learn a language. Do it.

Well folks, these are some of the things that I am going to try really hard to work on. And even though I may or may not succeed … trying is better than doing nothing.

I joined a gym yesterday and I am going to start working out more. Yay! I am going to try to go to the gym before work so that will mean trying to get up earlier. I have the next book on my book list so I am going to start reading that. I got my Head First HTML with CSS & XHTML book in the mail today … going to start teaching myself some code. I am signed up for a Volunteer Information Session on October 6 at the San Francisco SPCA so that I can start volunteering. I’m probably not going to give up coffee … but maybe soda? Brought my lunch to work today. I’m writing a blog post right now, you’re welcome.

Looks like I’m on the right path to getting better at life … the whole budget and savings things are a work in progress but I am trying really hard to figure it out. Learning another language will start when I get my ass to the SF Public Library and get a library card.

Oh, I forgot one. Write a blog post and start 9 of the sentences with “And then.” Did it. Biiiiitch!

What are you trying to work on? If you have any tips or tricks on how to make any of these things easier, I would love to hear them. Also … what language should I start learning?! Lemme know, ho! If you would like to read some literature beforehand to make an educated vote … you can start here!

Oh!

One last thing. Look how cute my dog is.

Hi everyone, I'm the cutest freakin' dog ever!

♥Nikki

Quadruple Rainbow!

Outside Lands, Goodies but Crazies, and Wine in Mouthwash Cups. Or a Freakin’ Awesome Weekend.

I’m sure that all of you San Franciscans know that this past weekend was Oustide Lands. And for those of you who don’t know, I’m getting really tired of directing you to Wikipedia … so here’s an excerpt for you … wouldn’t want you to hyper-extend your hyper-linking abilities (what? I don’t know … just go with it):

Outside Lands Main Stage

The Outside Lands Music and Arts Festival is a music festival held annually in San Francisco, California at Golden Gate Park. The first edition occurred August 22–24 in 2008, and included over 60 musical acts from around the world, as well as several art installations. The festival grounds included the Polo Field which was home to the Lands End Stage, the Speedway Meadow with Twin Peaks Stage and the Panhandle Stage, and finally the Lindley Meadow and the Sutro and Presido stages.

Kathryn and I

There aren’t a ton of huge music festivals in Oklahoma, which is why this was my first one ever, and. it. was. awesome. I didn’t know a ton of the bands that were there, but I have been listening to Bassnectar and Chromeo ever since I left.

I didn’t know exactly what to expect going into the weekend, but I did know that since it is San Francisco that I should count on some crazies. And I was not disappointed. And I might have even fallen into that category one or two times …

… Like on Saturday when Kathryn and I tried to sneak a camelbak full of vodka and Redbull into the gates by putting it in my pants, wait, that didn’t work, my side, nope, my back? Yeah. Strapped up under my bra, hunchback of  fucking Notre Dame style. Then we realized that they were patting people down … and that they were watching us the whole time we were trying to shove something the size of an infant down my pants. Sooo we just had to chug as much as we could then pour our potion onto the ground.

… Then whilst watching Gogol Bordello, we almost got trampled to death by the one person stampede that was some bat-shit crazy girl dancing in front of us whose appearance oddly resembled that of a lion.

… And the guy who was blasted out of his mind, aggressively fisting the air during Bassnectar … I caught an elbow to the throat, it was pretty neat.

… Then when this exchange took place: Kathryn says to some dude, “Hey, good job!” He looks at her, perplexed. Pause. Awkwardness. A look of comprehension crosses Kathryn’s face and she says with a very apologetic look on her face, “Oh … sorrryyyyy, I thought you were in the band …” and then walks off.

… Or when Kathryn was like, “What is in my pockets?” And she pulled out her pockets and they were completely full of grass.

… Or when we ordered our 5th round of $7 wine (the glasses were literally the size of mouthwash cups you get from the god damn dentist) and I handed the guy a dollar and said, “Is this enough?” He, apparently, did not think it was funny, but we thought it was pretty hysterical. So hysterical in fact, that 2 minutes later when we were ready for another glass of wine (hey … they were really fucking tiny glasses), Kathryn said the exact same thing to a lady at a different booth. Her response was a little more lighthearted than the previous gentleman’s, but she was still not totally amused. We were.

… Oh and then there was the guy who thought it was a good idea to bring his 4-year-old kid to a god damn concert. Great parenting skills right there. I can only imagine what that little girl’s future holds.

Actually, I think it looks something like this:

Two words: Role model.

… And then it was only fitting to experience the most intense encounter with crazy at the very end of the festival. This is when we met crazy violent body odor girl with wax balls in her mouth … oh and she wasn’t wearing pants. She elbowed me out of the way so she could unfold her chair, proceed to stand in it, and flip everyone off for five minutes. I could continue to describe this scene … but I hear that a picture is worth a thousand words.

There are no words.

Balls in mouth? Check. Goggles? Check. Thong? Check.

Oh … and p.s., I was severely inebriated the entire weekend in which these stories took place … so might I suggest that if you didn’t think that these stories were at all funny to go get shit faced, and then come read my blog. I bet it would help.

♥Nikki

Check out more pics on my Flickr page or my Facebook page!

Ode to Tarahumara’s: My Favorite Mexican Food in the WWW

Whole. Wide. World. In case you were wondering.

I was just talking with my friend Taylor about how much I miss and adore Oklahoma Mexican food, and Tarahumara’s Mexican Café in particular. Adore is probably the understatement of the century.

Any time I left Norman for a long period of time, Tarahumara’s was my first stop when I got back. Case in point: Went to China, went straight from the airport to Tarahumara’s; Went to Italy, Taylor picked me up from the airport and we met everyone at Tarahumara’s; Was gone for the summer, Tarahumara’s; Haven’t been there in three days, Tarahumara’s.

It was a glorious thing. A god damn gift from above.

But now I live in California, and Californians think that queso is just … cheese. PA-LEASE! You gotta get yourself to Oklahoma for some OkieMex. That shit’s where it’s at, fa real, yo.

Anyway, this reminiscent conversation with Taylor evoked some strong emotions, and I couldn’t hold them in as hard as I tried.

So here it is:

Ode to Tarahumara’s


Oh Tarahumara’s Mexican Café, how I love you so.

I have been missing you so much, and I think it’s starting to show.

My pants fit a little looser now, and my fat intake is down,

All because my favorite Mexican food is in another town.

Why do you have to be so far away from me?

All I want are some of your chicken enchiladas—smothered in cream cheese.

Mexican food here in California just isn’t the same,

What’s that I hear? It’s your chips and queso calling my name.

Mexican food here is a tiny tortilla sprinkled with cilantro,

Give me my rice and beans and a side of sour cream sauce, pronto!

Don’t forget my margarita, you know how to make it just right.

Have another you ask? Why, I think I just might.

Served up in a nice big chilled glass.

Two or three of those will knock me on my ass.

We part ways with a lime-sherbert mint,

A fully belly, and a smile of fulfillment.

I know one day that we will meet again,

Maybe when I come back to town for a football game, that I’m sure the Sooners will win.

Keep your chin up Tarahumara’s, keep your chips crispy, and your sour cream sauce creamy,

For even though I have moved away, I have not moved on, and I still think you’re dreamy.

♥Nikki

Sweating Balls, Funny Farts, and Putting Body Parts in Unnatural Positions. Or Yoga. And Derogatory Adjectives.

I have a new addiction, and that addiction is Bikram Yoga.

If you don’t know what Bikram yoga is, let me enlighten you: Bikram yoga classes are 90 minutes long, during which, you perform 26 postures in a room that is heated to 105 degrees with a humidity of 40 percent. It’s also known at hot yoga, for obvious reasons. And you sweat your balls off. Not kidding. Sweat will be pouring from your body like it’s nobody’s business. And sometimes you kind of feel like you’re going to pass the fuck out, but that’s totally normal.

I had done Bikram a couple of times before I signed up for a month of unlimited classes, and thought it was pretty awesome, but didn’t end up going consistently. But that is not the case this time. I am hooked. I find myself planning my nights out around my yoga schedule … and (GASP!) even going to the 6:15 a.m. class before work sometimes. And if you know me, you will know how big of a deal that is. I love my sleep.

But ever since I have started going I have encountered things that are hilarious, not so zen, and downright alarming  in the yoga classroom. Here are a few of my favorites:

The days when I show up to yoga and I am there because of my addiction, not necessarily because I want to be all zen and relaxed and all that bullshit. The class starts and I am calling the instructor every dirty word I can think of (in my head, obviously). How dare this biotch tell me to push harder, my god damn toe is coming out of the back of my head. I’ll push you harder. Those days are always fun.

The point in the class where I can feel a long hair clinging to my body somewhere and when I finally take the time to pull it from me, it is 3 feet long and pitch black. Clearly not mine. Ew.

The point in the class where I literally think that I am going to die from all the effort … and then the dude next to me rips ass. And I fall out of my pose, and laugh, and people give me dirty looks. Sorry for thinking farts are funny.

The point in the class where I’m standing with my legs spread and my head is in between my legs and I’m staring at the floor that is about a foot away, and the instructor says: “Roll forward, feel the stretch, touch your head to the floor. Touch your forehead to the flood. Touch. Your. Forehead. To. The. Floor.” I laugh. Never gonna happen.

The point in the class when I am standing with my face pressed into my shins and I am breathing really hard in and out my nose, and then I inhale the sweat that is now running up my face, and have to swallow it. That’s always a welcome and appetizing surprise. Not.

The morning that I drive my brand new Vespa to yoga and when I come outside after class, I realize that someone has backed into it, knocked it over, broken the light, and not left a note. I know, right? The DAY after I got it.

My new Vespa!

That same morning, I go home, park my broken Vespa, and as I am fumbling with my mail key, some douche-bag-ass-hole-mother-effing-cock-sucking-cum-gargling-prick steals my YOGA MAT out of my backpack. MY YOGA MAT! Who the fuck steals a yoga mat?! That is like the worst karmatic (yeah, I made it up, so what) thing you could possibly do.

What my pretty Lululemon yoga mat looked like ...

I hope that asshole breaks something while he’s trying to put his god damn forehead on MY yoga mat.

Namaste mother fucker.

♥Nikki

P.S. SanFranciscoSooner.com now has a Facebook page! Go check it out!

The San Francisco Marathon, Knee Pain, and the Glorious Feeling of Finishing

That’s what she said.

July 25th. A day that will live in infamy.

I can officially say that I am a marathoner. Which is a pretty awesome feeling if I do say so myself. I honestly didn’t think that I could/would do it … and around mile 14 when I realized that I was actually jealous of people running 13.1 miles, I knew that I would probably never do it again. But … never say never, right?

So here’s what went down:

July 24th: Laura (my friend from North Dakota who flew in to run it with me) and I go to the Runner’s Expo to pick up our bibs, shoe tags, and a bag full of goodies (of these goodies, my favorite was the razor burn cream … seems like a good thing to put in a marathoner’s goodie bag … right? no?) and of course to buy ourselves some t-shirts and shit.

And then we went to bed at 9:00 p.m.

July 25th: RACE DAY.

We get ready (I have massive nerves) and the taxi arrives to take us to our death at 4:55 a.m.

We stand in line for the Port-a-potties for about 35 minutes (yes, I went before … but we were an hour early … ) and then we hand off our bags to the bag check guy and walk toward the starting line.

(The actual race started at 5:30 a.m. but you sign up for start times based on your projected finish time, so Laura and I didn’t actually start until 6:02 a.m., in Wave 5.)

At 6:02 a.m. we cross the start line … it’s ON.

Laura and I are truckin’ along and around mile 3 we are running really well … a little under a 9 minute mile.

Mile 4: We see my parents taking pictures of us, we are all smiles and still really excited.

Mile 5: We start the ascent up to the Golden Gate Bridge, and I start thinking … holy fuck, I still have 21.2 miles to go.

Mile 7.6: Somewhere in the middle of the Golden Gate Bridge. You think this would be pretty and scenic and relaxing. No such thing. It’s 7:00 a.m. in San Francisco, in the “summer”, which means that it is misting, freezing balls, and foggy as fuck. Oh! And the ENTIRE first half of the bridge is an uphill climb. So really all you can see are the people kicking your ass on the way back across the bridge. But their faces don’t instill any confidence in me. Most of them read: why THE fuck did I sign up for this shit?! And then there are the crazy bastards that are trotting along, happy as pie. Assholes. Oh, my 7.6 mile split was 1:16:08 … good, 10 minute mile.

My parents took this, we weren't actually running into oncoming traffic.

Mile 10: Coming off the Golden Gate Bridge, continuing into the glorious hills that are the Presidio. Fuck the Presidio. The uphill climbs were killer on the thighs and calves, but the down hill is what was killing my knee and shins.

Mile 11: Started getting serious pain in the left knee, but still making really good time, even though I had to stop at an aid station to have them tape my knee.

Mile 13.1: 2:22:19 Half-Marathon time. Shoulda just stopped there. Knee is getting worse.

Mile 14: My knee gives a final stab, I stumble, Laura catches me, and I know that from here on out it’s gonna be a battle: me or the marathon, which one will finish the other? Only time will tell. Cue dramatic music. I tell Laura to save herself, to go on without me.

Mile 16: At this point, I am able to run for about three quarters of a mile until my knee gives way again, I stagger, limp to the side, and get my speedwalk on. I walk for about a tenth of a mile, then start sunning again. It’s a vicious cycle.

Mile 20: I am now in constant pain, and I run until I can’t take the pain anymore, start crying a little (don’t judge me, did you run the SF Marathon? Didn’t think so.), and then walk for a few minutes. It’s a very vicious cycle. Oh, p.s. at this point, I think: wow, I’ve made it 20 miles … that is farther than I have ever ran. OH MY SWEET JESUS I STILL HAVE 6.2 TO GO. Annie Tucker Morgan (oh, you don’t know who that is? Sucks to be you.) pops in my head and this is my only thought for the next 3 miles: Fuck this noise. FTN. FT Effin’ N.

Mile 23: Literally the worst pain I have ever been in … and my right knee and hip are starting to hurt from being favored for 11 miles. No big deal.

Mile 25: My right knee gives out. Yay! It’s a party now. My left knee was a sharp stabbing pain that I suspected was from the impact of running and would only be temporary. The right knee, on the other hand, was not. This shit feels serious. I am in extreme amounts of pain, but I am also EXTREMELY frustrated because my body is not tired. If I could get a new set of knees right now I’d sprint the rest of this beast.

The last 1.2 miles were the longest 1.2 miles of my life. Fa REAL, yo.  But I had to finish. This son-of-a-bitch-cock-sucking-ass-mongrel of a course was not going to beat me. I was going to beat it.

And I did.

Hey, it might have taken me 5 hours 18 minutes and 19 seconds, but I finished it. And that is ALL that matters. And that I beat 1002 people. Yeah, so what if 4997 people beat me.

Me: 1, San Francisco Marathon: 0. Eat it.

Literally, eat it.

♥Nikki

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