12. Get my nose (re) pierced

I’ve recently developed a really un-ladylike, embarrassing problem: I snore.

Last night I drove about six hours from Los Angeles back to Berkeley and I had a lot of time to think.  I wondered, if I take my nose piercing out, might it stop me from snoring?  Only one way to find out.

Daniel slid the stud out gently before we went to sleep and I didn’t think about it until the next morning as I tried and failed to make paleo pancakes.  They wound up being more like banana flavored scrambled eggs, but I digress.  He cleaned the stud off and then looked on my nose.. and looked.. and looked… and didn’t see the hole.

After some poking around, we found it only to discover that the stud would only slid in halfway.  So there I was, standing in my kitchen, scrunching up my face like a chipmunk while Daniel had one finger up my nose as he tried to slide the stud in with the other.  No luck.

So now you know: a nose piercing will close up in less than twelve hours.  Tomorrow I’ll be paying the heavily pierced lady at the downtown Oakland tattoo parlor another visit.

Oh, and I’m STILL snoring.


10. Run a Half Marathon

Happiness is a journey, not a destination.  Much in the same way that running is a journey and not a destination, although I’d be a dirty liar if I said I wasn’t thinking about the finish line every step of my 13.1 mile adventure around Golden Gate Park and along Ocean Beach two Sundays ago.

I’ve thought of a couple inspirational ways to write this post and cross number ten off my list, but every one of them has come out boring and banal.

I’ll leave it at this: bedraggled, soaking wet, and with aching legs, I crossed the finish line in two hours and one minute, having run every step of the way, and spent the rest of the day curled up in my boyfriend’s bed nursing legs that were constantly reminding me of the abuse I’d heaped upon them.

The aching faded after two days (except some irritating knee pain), but the sense of accomplishment has, happily, lingered.