Something to Sneeze At

In case you missed out – the Dirty Birdy STELLAR!  I’d heard word of it for weeks.  To be honest, it didn’t sound like my kind of thing.  Avid hand-washer, I generally prefer to stay clean.  This was going to be something new.

I certainly hadn’t committed to it.  The idea – enticing as it was – seemed far fetched.  I just couldn’t see myself participating.  Sloshing on my belly through a pool of mud?  So not me.  However, I felt it was my duty as a photographer and an artist to go shoot the heck out of it (especially since my cameraman, Vinny, was home sick).  That way I could transmit the messy ruckus to all those squares out there still afraid to get dirty.  Then again, if I got the gall, I could always jump on in and run as bandit.  That became the plan.  Anticipation began to mount in the last 24 hours leading up to the event to the point when we were finally on our way.

I got into Kristopher’s car.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” I said, hand on belly.  He looked at me nervously.  “Don’t worry, I’m just excited,” I told him.  It’s true – I get the same feeling before every kickball game.  I love it.

Pulling into PIR, we parked among a smattering of cars and people suiting up.  It occurred to me that it would be unwise to attempt photography while running such a muddy race.  Maybe I should just shoot from the sidelines, I thought.  But seeing them thoroughly hose down the course with a fresh layer of wetness made me want to be mucking around in it even more.  Kristopher wanted to run it no matter what.

The crowd clearly wasn’t big enough to preserve our anonymity as bandits – we started having a mild guilt trip about it.  In the end, my buddy coughed up some change to get us dialed in (Thanks Kristopher!).  Totally legit, it was ON.

The course was a massive mess: a winding 5k loop that included obstacles (forcing us to crawl through mud on our bellies) and 2 huge slip’n’slides (into giant mud puddles of course).  And get this!  They traditionally start the race with the previous Dirty Birdy winners, both male and female, wearing bright yellow Dirty Birdy jerseys, giving them a 30 second head start.  The dude was there, but the previous female winner was nowhere on site.  So Devin, the Oregon Active guy who put the event together, got on the horn and asked the crowd which chick would like to be the honorary Dirty Birdy and NO ONE spoke up.  Can you believe that?!

Cutting the silence, guess who volunteered.

Lo and behold, the Dirty Birdy jersey went perfectly with my golden legs.  And none of it was gold for very long.  About 30 seconds into the race I got clothes-lined in the obstacle course.  After that, I spent a good deal of time crawling through pits of muck.  Early in the second lap, my shorts filled with mud and fell completely off.  Heck – they were slowing me down anyway.

It was such a treat!  I hadn’t felt like that much of a kid since waaaaaay back in October during the Naked Pumpkin Run.  There’s just something about slogging around in the mud that’s good for the soul…

At the end of the race, Kristopher and I enjoyed a few beers at the bonfire, admiring the mud splatters among our cohorts.  It was only a small crowd, but given the circumstances, I’d say we were surrounded by some of the coolest people in P-Town.  If you’re down to get muddy, you’re rad.

All of a sudden, I felt a tickle in my nose.  On came a fit of sneezes – musta been at least 5 or 6 in a row.  But it was no big deal.  Sneezing is fun!  I shook it off.  We finished our beers and Kris brought me home.  By the time we got there, I was officially sick.

It seemed like the fastest moving cold I’d ever had.  At bed time, I was a wreck, but in the morning, I was better again!  Wow, I thought, I must be some sort of super-human.  I proceeded about my weekly routine of working out, working on projects, and hanging with family & friends in the evenings.

A few days later, the damn cold came back.  So much for that super-human idea…  But it did the exact same thing: hit me around noon, rapidly running its full course by the next morning.  I didn’t even have to adjust my schedule!

Fast forward through another fun weekend of hilarity (see Perpetual Nonsensical Greatness), where without a doubt, we were on a roll.  Vinny and I got a bunch more footage for the movie (not like we needed it – there’s plenty) and had a blast while doing.  Everything was peachy-keen until Monday night.

It felt like there were razorblades in my throat.  I could hardly sleep.  When I got up Tuesday morning, it was even worse.  I was sicker than I’ve been in as long as I can remember.  How was this possible?

Turns out, it’s H1N1 – the dreaded swine flu.  Then the pieces started falling together.  One of the symptoms is what seems like a false-starting cold.  Oh shit.  Then I remembered that Vinny had practically been on is death bed the week before.  I must have gotten it from him!

I’m not mad.  Okay – I’m a little ticked to be sick, but as long as Vinny keeps his distance till I’m feeling better, I’ll let him live.  Meantime, at least everyone’s well-occupied during recovery.  See you soon, friends.

HAVE A GREAT THANKSGIVING!!!

Perpetual Nonsensical Greatness

I had a feeling it was going to be a good weekend.  (It was FANTABULOUS!)  When Friday night rolled around, I found myself quiet and alone.  In those eerie moments – the silence before the storm – a familiar sensation was percolating deep within me: elation.

But solo, I faced a dilemma.  Go it alone or call Vinny?  There were several stops to make across town, live music here, party there and who-knows-what-else along the way.  I’d told Vinny that we were moving on to Phase 2 of the video project, so we weren’t going to be filming anymore.  Funny how things change.

He came over right away.  We started with some serious conversation about our project and terms of collaboration (for example: no more driving like a maniac and I’m the boss, dammit), over salad and a martini at Observatory.  Delicious.

The night was a whistle-stop tour of parties and events around the industrial SE area.  We got killer footage and I ran into a bunch of wonderful friends.  I could tell Vinny was happy to be out with me again by the dopey grin that never left his face.  By the time he brought me home, I was too drunk to care that he ran most of the red lights along the way.  (Don’t worry – I lectured at him about it the next day.)

Saturday, it continued.  The evening kicked off with a break-dancing competition at a community center near my place.  It seemed like an ideal opportunity to show Violet what it was all about, so I called my buddy Rene (who loves dancing), because I knew he’d be going too.

“I’d appreciate it if you did NOT bring Vinny to this,” he said.

“I’m sure Vinny will track me down sooner or later,” I replied.

You have to expect it at this point.  If there’s something happening, we’re gonna go shoot the hell out of it.  Vinny showed up just in time to catch the last few rounds of the battle.  Then we made what was supposed to be a brief stop back at my place.  We regrouped, cracked a beer, stepped out the front door and found…no car.

Where did it go?

“My car just got stolen?!”  Vinny was beside himself.  “The camera was in there!”  That was even worse than losing the wheels.  It made me feel sick.

We looked around.  Right then, a police car passed by – not a typical occurrence in this residential area, but whatev.  Vinny ran after it and flagged the cop down.

“I think my car was just stolen,” he told the officer, at which point the officer gestured to a car not-so-neatly parked in a neighbors’ front yard.

“That car?”

“What the…?”  Vinny was still a little confused, but soon the fog lifted and we realized what had happened.  He’d left the e-brake off and the car had rolled down our street, across Stark and on down the hill to the neighbors’ front yard where it knocked down some hedges as it stopped, popping both left tires in the process.  HA!

Fortunately, another friend was in the neighborhood, so he swooped us up and the night proceeded according to plan.

The end…for now.

Is Happiness a Solitary Pursuit? Robert Biswas-Diener Answers

Is Happiness a Solitary Pursuit? Robert Biswas-Diener Answers.

Many people have such a natural, intuitive knack for pursuing their own happiness that they rarely stop to question whether it should be a solitary pursuit. The short answer is yes, it should be; but also no, it does not have to be.

At the most basic level, happiness is a personal feeling, experienced subjectively within the individual. Who better to work with the causes and construals of happiness, then, than the individual. Interestingly, science has also shown happiness to confer a number of benefits to the individual, including better immune functioning, more curiosity and creativity, and more sociability. And it is here, on that note—sociability—that we have to turn to non-solitary pursuits of happiness.

Humans are, after all, primates and, as such, are social creatures. Studies show that even introverts report more happiness when they are in group settings, and intimate relationships have been linked to greater happiness. In fact, studies also show benefits of happiness for groups: Happy people have better relationships, volunteer more, and are more likely to help a co-worker. In the end, the pursuit of happiness is an individual endeavor with far-reaching social consequences. It is sensible for individuals to shepherd their own happiness, but equally logical to understand that it is relationships that serve both as a route to happiness and a target for happiness.

Robert Biswas-Diener is a positive psychologist, certified mentor coach, and co-founder of The Strengths Project.

Quickie

Hey Gang,

All is well in Audreality – not that you were worried of course.  Facebook decided to have me back (*swoon*) since I promised never to post naked pics there ever ever again.  On a related note, we’ve moved on to the next phase of the video project, so I’m no longer being stalked by a cameraman.  Anyway, wanted to let y’all know about some of the fun coming up this weekend:

Friday from 6-9pm Local 35 is having a birthday party, complete with keg, music, goody bags (for the early birds), special deals AND Voodoo Donuts.  YUM!

Saturday is the Dirty Birdy, sure to be one of the better mud mucking events of the season.  Participate (for 25 bucks) or just stand by and watch ‘em get sloppy.  Water-balloon throwing is encouraged.  I plan to observe from the sidelines, but I may be overwhelmed by temptations to dive on in.  Don’t try to stop me.

Later Saturday evening, bop on over to the annual open studios event at 17 SE 3rd & Ankeny, where every artist in the building has a party!