Frog Earrings

Today I am wearing green copper frog earrings. They are about 1.5 inches long, and they're very detailed. When I was in the fifth through 7th grades, we lived in Rhode Island, which is where my mom is from. We would regularly go for hikes in the Norman Bird Sanctuary in Middletown, not too far from the beach where my mom grew up. The bird sanctuary would have a fall festival with arts and crafts and pumpkin carving contests and the whole nine yards. It was always so much fun. One year, just Mom and I went and we had a blast, walking around the grounds, looking at different rescue birds and hiking up to the peak. We shopped at the art festival, and my mom saw these copper earrings and bought them for me in an instant. I rarely wear them anymore, not because frog earrings aren't cool, but because these silly earrings make me think of my mom all day long, and I can practically taste the hot apple cider that they sold at the sanctuary.

5x800

When I was a kid, I wanted nothing more than to compete in the Olympics as a swimmer. To this day, every Olympic swimming or running match I watch makes me cry big giant crocodile tears. For some reason the sheer glory of such accomplishment moves me to a weird nostalgic place.

I ran with Gilbert's Gazelle's this morning. Gilbert is an Olympic athlete who trains anyone and everyone to meet their full potential for a marathon. He is a genocide survivor, a Tutsi originally from Burundi where 250 of his high school classmates were burned alive by Hutus. He escaped, literally on fire, and somehow survived and managed to move to the US and become a NCAA champion. Running today, in the pitch black, oppressive 90 degree heat of the 5:45 morning, I felt invincible. I was in the slowest group, I nearly passed out, and yet I was exhilarated. I felt like an Olympic athlete and it was thrilling. For three minutes and thirty seconds.

I want to be in Austin.

ATX

I'm just comfortable in Austin. It's not that Cleveland sucks; it doesn't. But I can't seem to get comfortable there. Austin is like an old easy chair, all worn in and comfy and complete with throw pillows and an afghan. Cleveland is like a stiff-backed chair that is the wrong height for the table. It serves its purpose, but you can't really nestle in. Or at least I can't seem to. If I could just do the job I'm doing in Austin, all would be well. How about if the Rock Hall opens an annex in Texas? That would be perfect.