Breaking the Rules

I have a personal rule not to blog about guys I date or my job. I'm breaking one of 2 rules tonight - and it's about the boys not the criminals!
So first of all: I HATE dating. Hate it. It's like a long job interview and sometimes what you think you're applying for is way different than what the applicant meant to advertise for. The only good thing I can get out of it is free food and cheap entertainment. So let's take a quick road down "I hate dating and this is why" memory lane from the past year:



*Hot Detective: What a man to resist! Broke my heart a little bit but I stuck to my guns. On some level I think he was the devil and I somehow resisted temptation. But as time went by I see that he's hilarious, vulnerable and acts like a middle school boy who can't control the monster in his pants. He's fun - perhaps we'll go out for a drink again soon. I love to laugh and reject sexual advances.

*Pervert Pilot: My mistake here. I think I just needed a distraction from the Hot Detective. When I look back this guy really creeped me out - but I can be cynical so I figured to give it a chance. One thing I learned this year is to *always* trust your gut and your first instinct. Oh, what made him a pervert? Well he said...I can't even repeat it. I love pervert humor when it involves humor. When there's no joke it's just creepy. *shudder*

*Dirty Virgin: Again another distraction from someone I won't include on my list. Fun guy but his laugh was horrible. I felt so bad for the other people in the theater. But he made me laugh outside of the theater and could be very sweet. But really, what's the point of being a virgin if you've been so dirty? This whole legalism thing has got to go - if your heart's not in it then it's not worth the dedication. Oh, and he really didn't treat his dog well.

*Chubby Redhead: Very nice guy. No physical attraction. Fun to hang out with - but he reminded me of a buddy from high school I'd hang out with, not someone I'd date. Derek has this theory that I only date guys that treat me like crap - and I think he bases that theory from my boyfriend from 11 years ago. In reality he's just pissed that my crappy ex-boyfriend from 11 years ago was way taller than him, but I digress...(I'm gonna pay for that comment)
Anyway - Chubby Redhead picked the hardest hike of them all. Long story. But the end result on that trail was don't put your arm around me like you're the man after you left your balls at the trailhead. Just saying.

*Dreamy Husky: This is still fresh. Very nice guy and his calm mannerism was contagious. I could feel my icy heart start to melt. But I don't get this whole polyagmy dating thing (Derek's term that I stole). Another hard decision but I stuck to my guns and broke a little piece of my heart. It wouldn't of worked out anyway - I don't think he realized how much I appreciate dirty humor and love to cuss.

So really, I hate dating. It's weird. There's always these new rules that pop up that I wasn't aware of. I always thought things were more simple and traditional. Like the guy pursues the one girl he likes and the 3rd date is the make or break date. And I always go at least 3 dates - makes for better stories.

Plus I like free meals.

First Place!

Surprise Surprise I saw my old friend Jessica at Big D's this weekend! She's amazing folks - not only is she beautiful, smart, funny, tricky (damn grass game), a Doctor, a mother of twins and wonderful wife - but she is also ....*drum roll*.... Spanaway Junior High's past dancing queen!

Oh yea, put on a little Red Hot Chili Peppers and 8th grade comes back to her along with her sweet dancing moves!

(Reunited and it feels so gooooood!)

It was SOOO stinking good seeing you Jessica! What I got you gotta give to your Mama! What I got you gotta give it to your Papa! Everybody join the chorus now!

(Dr Jessica at work...really)

(Jessica's Halloween toes!)

On another note: Shout out to Elle and Jesse for the DELICIOUS dinner and bottle of wine post-run. I can't wait to see more of Ava's art - Red *is* my favorite color - she's a girl after my own heart.

And on another another note: Alan the Ogre is not convinced when I tell him that my faithful blog readers really don't think he's an a$$hole! It was pretty classic when Jessica could tell who Alan was right away by his texting though. Can't say I don't make a good point! But to know Alan is to adore Alan. Except when he's texting. Just saying...

Mouse Toe

No, not camel toe. Pervs. Mouse Toe. I indeed have a broken toe that originated from a mouse.

(Left set of feet, right foot, second toe - pure guilt in the streets of Antigua, Guatemala)

It's a sad story from my youth yet a constant reminder every time I take off my socks, get a pedicure, put on my flip flops, etc. Sometimes I look that broken toe right in the eye and take a picture of it without hiding it. I mean, the mouse lost it's life and I gained an ugly, disfigured toe. I feel the humility is earned. What's even worse? I can't even remember the mouse's name...

(Right set of feet, right foot, second toe - pure guilt on the coast)

When I was in grade school I had pet mice. I also had pet cats. It's not the easiest combination especially when you had determined cats like mine yet mice like mine that had freedom. Once a day I would take a mouse out for a walk out in our front yard. Not joking - I treated those mice good! I'd give them peanut butter jars, build them mouse forts and took extra measure to protect them from my cats.

One of these extra measures was to put a five pound dumbbell on top of their hard wire top. Something way too heavy for curious claws to flip off. So picture this: 10-year-old Krista, home from church on a sunny day with the impulse to share that sunny day with her beloved white mouse. Young Krista takes the dumbbell and places it on top of her dresser and takes her mouse out of the cage. She's just about to put her mouse on her shoulder (the mouse's preferred mode of travel is not in hand of course) and before she can make this hand to shoulder exchange the dumbbell, falls hard, on her toe. And that's where things went bad...

(Post-hike, right foot, 2nd toe - pure guilt and mangled feet on the Pacific Crest Trail parking lot)

So young Krista had no idea what struck her at first but it was pain, pure unexpected pain. She does the silent scream accompanied with the full body tension. You know what was tense the most on Krista? Her fists. Especially her left fist with her precious mouse inside it. Once she realizes what happens she looks at her mouse and sees it's head sticking straight up with the life squeezed vertically out of him. She tries to run out of her room but can only hop on one foot down the hallway to her family. Each hop is accompanied with the climbing realization of the situation: She broke her toe and killed her mouse. So of course as soon as she sees her family she cries "I broke my toe and I killed my mouse!" They just stare at her. For some reason, she throws the mouse at their feet. Don't ask me why - I'm big Krista, I can only speak so much for young Krista.

(Right foot, 2nd toe - pure guilt shared with the sea stacks)

The rest of the day was a blur. Her brother buried her mouse in thet pet cemetary and her Dad had her soak her foot in cold water. Then hot water. Then cold water. Dad was pretty determined that young Krista's toe wasn't broken and that all it needed was hot/cold water treatment and then she can run it off. A week later the doctor disagreed and my grotesque, broken toe was born. Ever since the bone sticks up vertically to the sky just like her mouse's head when she squeezed the life out of it. It even rubs against the top of her shoes and breaks the skin. No, it's not a blister, it's mouse punishment that you see on the top of my second toe.

I found a picture of this mouse on the internet. Look how fragile and trusting it is. Just like I'm sure my mouse was. I personally revoked my rights of mouse ownership after that day.

But while were on the subject - I should really expand this story and tell of how much my parents refused to take me to the doctor growing up: Walk it off, rub dirt in it, soak it in water, put a cold towel on your forehead, etc. I even had to steal my Mom's credit card and drive myself to the doctor with a 104 temperature after 3 days of putting a "cold towel" on my forehead. But, I digress.

RIP Mouse-whose-name-I-can't-remember. There will never be another...

The Height of Rudeness

"The Height of Rudeness" was a line Big D and I heard from an episode Flight of the Conchords (one of the funniest shows ever) and we decided it would be a perfect title for a blog. At first I thought I could write a blog with that title based on the picture above. But then... then Alan the Ogre inspired me otherwise... But before I get into that isn't this picture ridiculous? See what some people will do for a good race time? He even looks disgusted with himself. I hope you got a good PR man...

So my dear buddy Alan the Ogre, whom I love and adore, is incredibly rude. Many people wouldn't describe him as this. Alan for the most part is such a wonderful person I thank my lucky stars for knowing him. When I describe Alan to others I always mention how wonderful I think he is. But Alan has the most horrible habit. A habit so bad that makes me constantly question "Why do I even take time to hang out with you?"

You see, Alan is a texting whore. It is true. Those who know him best know it and now it's time for me to put him out on shout in one last effort to shame him into changing the error of his ways. He texts and drives (grrrr), he texts when I'm driving, he texts when I'm talking, he texts during dinner, he texts when you're not looking...and I don't even want to think of the other things he does while he's texting.

At times I'll ask "Who the h*ll are you texting so much!?" but he is reluctant to answer. And then when he opens his mouth I walk away. Because I don't care. I am just perplexed as to why he is wasting the value of my company. For example, last night I had two other offers, from two very cool people to hang out with them. But, I had plans with Alan the Ogre. I'm not quite sure if Alan was aware that him and I were hanging out because he was freaking texting the whole time. Can I get a witness!? Why yes I can. My beautiful german vixen Christina was there to see it all.

And Alan the Ogre is as stubborn as he is good hearted. At first, in the past, I would politely point out that his texting is a little rude but this does not sway him. Then in true Krista fashion over time I get feisty and confrontational and he just laughs, tells me that he doesn't ignore me, and continues to text. You're lucky I'm not blogging about your driving Alan - yeah, I'm talking to you!!!

So then last night, in a rare moment when Alan wasn't texting I kept quiet to see if he would start a conversation. Of course he did not. It has gotten so bad that Alan only knows how to converse with his fingers.

Who is this man, this obsessive texting whore that takes advantage of Krista's company you ask? Why look below. That's him. Back in the good 'ol days before his texting addiction.

But now the good days are gone as Alan the Ogre has reached The Height of Rudeness.

Jerk.

Once again...

Shia my beloved is on Jay Leno tonight. Yes, I did stay up specifically to see him...hold on, commerical break is over.....

So where was I? Was is it about Shia? He is just funny, sarcastic, courteous and humble. And he can relate to curly hair I'm sure. And those hands...those are hands of a man. I wonder if once you go Jewish you never go back...

I peed on a National Monument.

Twice. What else is a girl to do when she's trying to overdose on hydration on a hot day while climbing a volcano?
This is the Mt. St. Helen's crew getting ready for the climbing battle at way-too-early-O-thirty in the morning. Big D, Deeann and Mama Klavano. Now all 3 of these ladies had climbed Kilimanjaro in June so I had to bring it. Bring it Krista bring it!

So the first 2 miles is easy-cheesy. Were doing a gradual climb in the forest, stopping to pick berries, I'm reminding myself to stay awake - it basically feels like any other hike. I basically have no idea what to expect. Big D doesn't either - we just know somehow we'll be at the summit of Mt. St. Helen's eventually that day.
Soon the forest disappears and were presented with this huge lava boulder field. It is so steep that I'm still not comprehending how far were going to climb. The night before I was thinking "Elevation of 4500 feet in 5 miles? Oh, that's easy!" In my head anything less than 1000 ft elevation gain per mile is do-able and a great workout. And here's where my simple thinking failed me: Those hikes are usually long switchbacks. In forests. With dirt. And stable ground. To get to the summit of Mt. St. Helen's it's just a bit different...
To start we had to "look out for the posts" in the rock fields. There is no trail. Big D and I kept saying "Just up." Look for the posts and climb up.

*****Where's Waldo: Can you spot the post in this picture? One of many******

So this is "just up." These are lava boulders and can be sharp to the hands so eventually Big D and I started sporting garden gloves. Oh yea, they are also for massive rock gardens. Some rocks weren't stable. It was a constant maze of testing rocks, looking out for posts, finding a boulder that was small enough to climb over, asking "Where are you?" over the tall boulder and dodging squirrels. Yeah, you heard me. Those ferocious squirrels.

Check out this assertive bastard! He jumped on Big D's pack trying to get food! So here's a rule for the outdoors: Do not feed the animals. And don't ask me why not feeding squirrel's applies - you can ask Big D that question. Guess in actuality I really can't answer that question except to say they'll expect food and jump on your pack to get it! No squirrel guts, no squirrel glory!

Oh, and at this point I only heard one pika. Just one. I think there's a squirrel gang overtaking the lava field. It's not how it once was back in the day: a rock field that pikas, squirrels and marmots could live together in harmony. Those were the days...damn those gangster squirrels - they think they run the place now and all the granola bars are their's for the taking!

Anyway - all this drinking water (Ok, I finally admit having a camelback *is* nice), made our bladders full. After Big D braved a gut-relieving pee I decided that I couldn't hold back anymore and had to take advantage of her pee skills. She went to work and quickly found me a great pee spot. Mt. Adams and I had a very private moment as I took care of my business sans penis.

Climbing over the rock fields took FOREVER. But I didn't take many pictures because it took me a while to regain my balance everytime I stopped. I was kind of glad when the rocks were left behind and our portion of climbing thru the loose pumice stone and ash began. We broke out the trekking poles (thanks Mama Klavano!) and slowly trudged up the mountain taking one step, sliding down a half step before going on to the next step.

A lot of this climb reminded Big D of Kilimanjaro - except today wasn't as treacherous for her! She talked of steeper terrain, back in the pitch black dark which made her unaware of how much risk she was really taking navigating her way up...thank God today for bright sun. I like to know how much my life hangs in the balance...I think.

Finally to the top! This was my first official big picture! I saw a familar friend in the distance - why hello Mt. Rainier! Big D I were in awe...I hadn't been to Mt. St. Helens since I was a kid and puked pink pop out the window of our moving german station wagon. (it was white and looked pretty bitching with the pink racing stripe if I do say so myself...) Anyway - I was suprised to see all the trees were still collected in Spirit Lake. I was also impressed to see how much work our little Helen has done rebuilding her dome! But it was really cool to see it from this perspective.

I just like this picture. It's Big D and her shadow taking in a panoramic view for the very first time at the summit. Sah-Weet.

So one of our picnic neighbors at the summit was very nice to take pics of Big D and I with Mt. Rainier in the background...

....Then with Mt. Adam's in the background (shout out to Coach Sh ull and Andrea for climbing that bitch in one day last summer)

...then finally with Mt. Hood in the background so it wouldn't feel left out.

Enough with the pictures - we were stinking hungry. I could of been eating tuna fish and would of been the happiest girl in the world....no, that's not true. I would of thrown tuna fish in the crater. Which reminds me - when they climbed Kilimanjaro one night the cook's made "tuna fish stew." Gross. Seriously gross.

Anyway - Big D took a nice pic of my hiking boots hanging over the rim while we ate lunch. After stuffing ourselves with summit food goodness Big D and I laid our heads down in the ash and had a light nap while we waited for the rest of our hiking party. Life is good.

It didn't seem to take long for Mama Klavano and Deeann to make it to the summit to join us! Deeann met 2 of 2 goals that day: reach the summit and not injure herself on the lava rock field requring stitches. I'll let you guess what happened to her last year. But man oh man I was thinking of stiches every time I navigated a boulder and loose stone.

So Mama Klavano revealed we were *not* at the true summit yet. The true summit was beyond that crowd pictured above...then down (which was treacherous), then back up. OK. Were here. Might as well officially summit right?

So that treacherous part...holy crap. My butt was puckering the whole time! I was fighting off sheer panic while we were trying to navigate a steep rock field that was lining the crater's rim and a steep slope. A few times I put my weight on a unstable rock and watched it tumble, and tumble down the hill with a mini-avalanche. I couldn't decide if I wanted to die by falling into the crater or tumbling down the steep mountain. Both which seemed like very probable outcomes to me at that point. Big thanks to Big D for keeping me calm and showing me the way...

...to this. The true summit! Yes I was sitting on the crater's edge. It felt WAY safer than the treachery I just climbed thru with Big D! I waited as Big D went pee for the...3rd or 4th time I think. Yeah, take that national monument - at least I limited it to twice. After this I dropped shorts and relieved my bladder for the 2nd time. It was a really weird experience to be out in the open, on top of the world and mooning Mt. Rainier. But I liked it.

Here's Big D and I being picture whores. I still don't think I took enough pics - it was so amazing up there! (Mt. Adam's in the background).

*******2nd Where's Waldo: Can you spot Big D hiking along the crater's rim? Badass.*********

Here's Big D heading back up and over the rim of the crater to get back to the trail to head back to the car. I mean, there's not really a trail. Going down the ash/pumice stone was the best part! You take a step and "PLUNGE" down far! It was far easier going down that part. But then we hit the rocks. Holy hopping snot it was harder getting down that part. How we made it out without stitches, twisted ankles and broken wrists (yes, we fell a bit) is beyond me.

One last self-portrait at the top! Yay us! We made it! Big thanks to Mama Klavano and Deeann for helping and sharing this experience with us. Big thanks from me to Big D for helping me combat my inner-scaredy cat. And thanks Helen for reminding me to be more thankful for my trails. I forgot how nice it was to take a nice long stride again.

It has now been over 24 hours since the summit. I am sore. Beyond sore. My arms and legs are sore. Going down the rocks you basically have to do tricep dips to get down the rocks (and lat pulls to get up actually). Oh, and not putting sunscreen on the back of my legs was a bad idea. I'm waddling around like ET - if I had a sunflower it would be suffering too.

Was it worth it? Hell yeah. Will I do it again? Hmm....

PS - Unrelated but big props to Jenny and her first 5k! Big D and I could barely keep up with her in the last mile when she informed us she was going to "kick it". Even up the hill folks. Jenny got a PR and an amazing time - 9:35 miles. Did I mention she just starting running 2 months ago? I'm so proud and inspired!

Get out

So at least I get out. Yesterday as Big D, Andrea and Coach Sh ull and I drove up to the trailhead we could see nothing but green hillsides, mountains covered by mist and rain on our windshield. The picture above would be really impressive if you could see how stinking high we were! We couldn't even see how high we were but the steep grade of the trail and our burning thighs were a good indication that it was high.I was trying to brag to Bid D "See that wall of cliff and rock across the way? Yea, I hiked that b*tch" But it could barely be seen thru the clouds and mist. So then I follow it up with "Well, we'll have to do that hike when in the fall when it's sunny and the good colors are out..." She's excited. And I'm excited. I'll save face somehow.
So our pretty scenery had to be up close - what a pretty waterfall. *sigh* I'm such a scenery snob...I like the high elevation scenery. It helps me enjoy my post-hike meal more to know I used my quads to get really really really high up! Thanks for trying waterfall...you're a good consolation prize.
To the right is my hiking party. To the left is Red Mountain and Red Pass where we were heading. Oh you can't see it? Stupid mist. Stupid clouds. Trust me, you should be impressed by now.

After an intense climb we made it to our destination. It's kind of interesting - this is called Red Pond. Which we got to by climbing to Red Pass which is connected to Red Mountain. There is a lot of red. But I think it's interesting that these great mountainous features are accompanied by this itty bitty pond. No fish here Alan.

So here's the lower half of Red Mountain. Now it's just mocking us - it's covering up it's greatness so I can't show how awesome we are. I can't say "Yea, we hiked that b*tch."
Earlier in the week I had the same problem on a solo hike. I tried to climb Granite Mountain but the day was filled with clouds and mist. It's four miles to the top where there is a fire tower and the views, on a sunny day, are breathtaking. I was hopeful when I turned around and saw a little beam of sunlight poking thru to the valley below me.
But then I looked up...and there's the mist. The mountain was a lot higher than this - there is a fire tower hidden under the swallowing mist of white. Right after this I was greeted by a hiker who was heading down the mountain. He was bundled up and indicated that he didn't even make it to the top -1. It was windy and cold and 2. He spotted a bear cub. "What? A bear cub? Did you see it's Mom?" Turns out other hikers saw the cub's Mother. I start hopping up and down to shake my bear bell "Do you think this is good enough for the bears?" His advice? Just don't pet them. Thanks man...So I continue on and contemplated whether or not I should keep going. I sent consultation texts to Big D and Alan the Ogre and continued on...but hiked a bit more slowly shaking my bear bell. Then it happened...my foot slipped and half of me slid a bit down the hillside while one of my Nalgene bottles popped out of my pack. It rolled and thudded down this hillside and was gone forever. Thanks for the memories man. So, that confirmed it, I'm turning around. I hate not finishing a hike! I will get dizzy, sweaty, hot, tired, wet, hungry, I will even hike out in the dark to finish a hike. However, I ain't messing with no bear cub! Heck to the no.

So the conclusion? At least I get out. I'm hoping the fall hiking season can offer more opportunities for me to point to big hills and state "Yeah, I hiked that b*tch". But until then I think Coach Sh ull sums it up best with the above picture. Take that outdoors - I'll be coming back for ya!