I might moan about it, but running really is good for me. It's helping me build strength in my legs (good for those on-ice sprints) and helping lose some unnecessary weight. Mostly what's good about it, though, is that it's the perfect workout for a loner. I don't have to talk to anybody except to say, "Hey," to people going the opposite way on the rail-to-trail. Catherine and I run at different paces, so I don't even really chat with her.

This evening I did a quick run at Thomson Park. I love that place, no one ever uses it so it is like our own private park: our own bball hoops, our own tennis courts, our own .62 mile running track. Never anyone around, so it's always peaceful. I can run and watch the seasons change and never have to say "hey" to anyone on the trail.

On the other hand, it can get kind of creepy being out there by myself, especially now that it's started to get dark earlier. Well, I know a lot of it is just that I've had Jill on the brain for awhile now, and it makes me jumpy, but I don't like running through the woods up the quarry slope. The woods by the tennis courts aren't too scary, but the ones on the other side of the park seem more remote.

I have to go through a low income development to get to the park. I mean, it's not like I live in the projects or anything, but it is a low income development zone--to buy a house there your income can't exceed whatever the current maximum is designated by federal guidelines. They're really small, rectangular houses, very plain, they don't even come with porches. If you want a porch, you have to pour a slab-on-grade after you buy the house.

Anyway, most of them are kept pretty nice, and it seems like a nice place to live. A lot of families. But I'll tell you, I seem to live in the land of domestic violence. The last two times I've gone over to Thomson Park, I've had to pretend not to see two different fights. The first one seemed to involve a lot of people, but I didn't hang around to get the details. Tonight's ended with someone (the husband/boyfriend? I didn't turn my head) came out of the house and squealed out of the driveway in a car, with the woman yelling, "You'd better come back, and when you come back, you're gonna have to deal with me!"

The difference between living here and living on the east side is that people on the east side hide this kind of thing better. They have bigger houses so when they storm away from their spouse, it just means going to the family room. And the walls are probably framed with 2x6s so they're a little more soundproof. And people living in Hyde Park undoubtedly do not have the economic stresses in their lives that my neighbors do.
8:48 PM


You know you live in a bad neighborhood when the City sends you a letter saying that they are going to start offering scholarships to residents of underdeveloped neighborhoods, and would we be interested in a program that provided funds to attend career development-type classes? Thanks, I'm already over-educated. The two neighborhoods mentioned in the letter are the one from which we moved, and the one in which we live now.
8:25 PM


I obviously have serious issues.

I agreed to give a teammate a ride to practice on Friday, one of the women who just joined the team. She just e-mailed me and wrote:

"Thank you so much, I look forward to not only hockey but getting to know my teammates better (you)."

Which was a perfectly nice thing to say, but my first reaction was, "Whoa! Back off there, partner! What makes you think you're going to get to know me better?!"

I *am* a misanthrope.

The next time I bitch about not having anything in common with anyone around me, someone should hit me on the head with a brick and make me re-read this.

Addendum: Ha! Catherine read this and laughed. "Even that's too touchy-feely for you, huh? Well, I'm glad you like *me*. How did I get so lucky?"
2:48 PM


I have nothing useful to say.