Remember when...

It's nostalgia week here at Casa de Me.

First it was Germany: a great dinner with a friend and some Wittenberg acquaintances had me missing my bicycle-powered, locavore, simple (if not easy), ear-to-the-ground-of-local-politics deutsche Lebensweise. And yes, I fully realize that this blog is the most ridiculous possible place for me to express any sort of wistfulness about a place which I was fully convinced intended to kill me. But there it is: the power of the human mind to distort reality. Or maybe just to compartmentalize life into a bunch of tiny details, the aggregate of which can be arranged into something worth pining for.

Marathon training: the news here, I suppose, is that I now look on marathon training with nostalgia rather than anticipation. Plantar fasciitis has stopped me in my track, again. I guess this time I'm learning my lesson: some bodies -- mine being one of them -- are just not built to do this inhuman 26-mile leap of faith and its attendant training. My sister, bless her, did not say "I told you so" when she heard. The podiatrist bills have not yet come in, but suffice it to say, this was an expensive experiment in pushing myself to my limits. I guess this Everest will continue to loom above me... though I can't say I wasn't relievedwhen I realized the full implications of the sore foot.

Having (wonderful) new roommates is bringing up all sorts of happy memories of roommates past. And my goodness, I've had some good ones. In fact, the most important people in my life at any given point have almost always included my roommates. I like to think that says something good about me, though it might just indicate I'm a bit of a homebody and a lot of an extrovert.

Speaking of roommates, one of them has a Nintendo with Super Mario Brothers! I can't believe my fingers still know what to do, after 18 years. I wish I could harness my brainpower for good, but apparently too much of it is being used on warp whistles and koopa troopers.

Starting tomorrow, I live in the present.