tobermory's Diaryland Diary

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Furries

I ran in the St. Paddyís Day 5K this weekend and I improved my time a little. I finished in 31:13 (a 10:04 mile pace) which, considering that the last mile and a half of the race was running into a headwind, I consider to be pretty ok. I finished 456th out of 678, and 18th out of 41 in my age group (slightly more impressive when you realize that Iím the top age in my bracket). I think I suffered in the overall placement because the weather was not so hot (very chilly in fact) so most of the people who turned out were running diehards Ė not people like me who turn up at these races so they donít have to feel guilty about going home and eating a big breakfast and napping on the couch for most of the afternoon. Not that I would do that or anything. Thatís the last 5K for this month but like a big olí idiot I signed up for 3 next month. On top of all that, yippee!, Boot Camp started up again Ė they own me from 5:30-6:30 am M-W-F for the next six weeks.

We reached another milestone in home renovation Ė we picked paint colors out. It was weird when the drywall was installed but itíll be weirder still when the paint colors get slapped up. What was really nice is that the paint is on sale and only costs half of what we expected to pay. So what did I do with the savings? I went out and bought a fur coat. Hold on before you pile up the stones to throw at me. Itís vintage Ė no animals were expressly killed to satisfy my desire to look like a wooly mammoth during the months of December through February. Steve and I stopped in an antique store because Iíve been on the lookout for a dresser and although there were no dressers there was this super-fantastic coat that fit me perfectly (although it does make me look a little bit like a linebacker through the shoulders). It didnít have a price on it so when we went upstairs I asked and the lady running the store said since it was the end of the season and she didnít want to have to store it over the summer sheíd let it go for $200 Ė for a full length raccoon thatís a steal and I just couldnít pass it up. Normally youíd think I would not be a fur person, and for the most part youíd be right. I would never, ever buy a new fur. But, I consider vintage to be fair game Ė especially when itís a coat in perfect condition, no alterations necessary and priced to move. Then suddenly Iím a fur person. Plus, Steve though I looked sexy in it and kind words like that go a long way. Now I have to find a furrier in Chicago who will clean (I donít care that itís in great shape Ė I want it cleaned to remove any residual funk and/or karma left by the previous owner who I can almost assuredly say is dead as a doornail) and store it for me. Thereís a furrier that Iíve driven past about a zillion times so maybe Iíll take it in there. I have a mink stole too that I bought at a garage sale a year or so ago and it probably needs the same treatment before it becomes a moth eaten hunk of matted fur. Huh Ė me at a fur store Ė who would have ever thought it. Just remind me not to wear it to the animal shelter Ė that would be a bad plan.


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4:34 p.m. - 2008-03-17

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