Showing posts from October, 2009

Own Lane!

PP got her OWN lane!
How happy is she?
This never happens at the Oakland Y.
Cuz there are too many swimmers who want to share your lane. And you don’t want to share your lane, but you have to; otherwise, you’re a swimmer without morals. Which PP admits she’d like to be. But when it comes right down to it, she can’t help but share the lane if someone asks, albeit begrudgingly.

DL thinks that PP should keep track of the number of times she gets her own lane (for the entire swim!) She thinks that there’s some way to track this on the blog. PP is gonna look into this. But she doesn’t have to hurry with her investigation.

She won’t get her own lane again for a long long time.

Unless she does.

Which will make her very very happy!


“She really is a fish, isn’t she?”
GP grinned as she relayed her husband’s assessment of PP. Going swimming in this weather?

In the worst storm of the year? (Okay, it was the first storm of the year, but still.....)

“Or he coulda said she was the Craziest Fish, really!” PP muttered aloud to herself as she vainly tried to see the freeway in front of her through the driving gray sheets of windy rain.

What she will do for a swim!

Is the pool worth risking your life for?

Goddamn right it is.

PP hit the brake as the cars in front of her slowed to a crawl, red brake lights thankfully warning her to keep her distance. The gargantuan yellow truck at the front of the line of cars spewed a ghastly black smoke as it chugged up Hwy 80 toward Pinole.

Glancing down at her speedometer, PP saw that she was barely going 35 miles an hour.

This is for the best, she thought. Of course unless some stupid idiot rear-ends her. “Maybe you should think less about what’s behind you and concentrate on what’s in fr…

The Marriott at Kalapaki Beach

”Not that I don’t LOVE all of you beautiful people, but….” Love Fest Woman glances around the pandemonium that is the Lihue airport and sighs, “…I’ve booked a room at the Marriott.”
“How much is a room at the Marriott?” someone asks wistfully.
“$199.99. But I don’t care. I can’t take it anymore. Ciao!”

PP watches in a jealous cloud of exasperation as LFW strides purposefully out of the airport, husband and luggage in tow. Damn! Why can’t she go to the Marriott?

Oh, yeah that little thing called money.

Damn again. Bet there’s a really great pool at the Marriott too!

Sighing loudly, PP plops back into the uncomfortable plastic chair, her head aching, her nerves frayed.

She’d asked if they could be sent to a hotel when the flight had been canceled and there wasn’t another one till the next day. But nooooo….

“We can book you on a flight to LA and then from there you can get a connecting flight to SFO.”
“Are you serious?” PP had practically screamed at the Stony Faced Agent. “I’m not flying to …