I waited eagerly for BNF to get home so he could see it, and I may have kept bouncing the curls around, as they’re so very different from (and much more fun than) my usually pin-straight hair.

Finally I heard the key in the lock, I saw BNF evaluate my hair, and saw the smile on his face.

“I like it, baby,” he told me. “It looks great! It looks like a beautiful horse’s mane!“

I was too surprised to come up with anything better than, “Did you just call me a horse?“

I thought about it more, and came up with a better conclusion: BNF was simply channeling is inner Sir Ulrich von Leichtenstein.

In A Knight’s Tale, if you’re unfamiliar with the classic, Sir Ulrich attempts to hit on Jocelyn with the line, “Your beauty will be reflected in the power of my arm and my horse’s flanks.“

Needless to say, it does not go over so well, and Jocelyn only barely listens when her friend and maid tells her, “Maybe where he comes from it means love.“

Sure. Let’s go with that.

Horse comparison=love.

In these two cases, anyway. And these two only, I hope.

Though, now I wonder if it would be appropriate to trot down the aisle.

Decisions decisions.

But this upcoming weekend – Tebow vs. Brady – has piqued my interest.

For starters, we’ll be in Boston visiting friends. I should be rooting for the home team. Especially considering our host has pinned the fate of the universe on the outcome of this game.

The thing is, I just love me an underdog.

Throughout the season I’ve been fascinated, not necessarily with Tebow, but with the fact that people care so much what his motivation is. I suppose it makes for good press – or at least gives people something to write about each week – but it does get old after a while.

Because of all that press, though, I’d really love to see Tebow keep on shocking people. Starting with the Patriots.

I have nothing personal against the team. Except maybe the 2005 Super Bowl and the most recent Eagles-Pats match-up. But really. Nothing personal. I just want Tom Brady to be able to go and spend a little more time at home and with his kids. Is that so wrong?

So, while it definitely won’t be the popular decision in Boston this weekend, I’ll be pulling for an upset. (Sorry, friends.) Preferably one that ends like the Broncos-Steelers game, but you can’t plan for things like that.

Unless you’re Disney.

“2010 seems hard to beat, but I think 2011 is up to the challenge.

Next year will see more marathons (or, at least one); the halfway point of my grad school career; five weddings within a three month period (plus another one over Labor Day); hopefully the completion of my birthday list; and a potential trip to Buenos Aires.

I can’t wait to see what else 2011 has up its sleeve.”

• That potential trip to Buenos Aires turned out to be a beautiful reality. It was relaxing, warm, and amazing to meet so much of BNF’s family and friends. And my Spanish was passable, so I’ll count that part a success.

• I didn’t fully complete my birthday list, but I did come up with a new one for 26 that I’m slowly working my way through.

• The weddings were fantastic. We danced and ate and celebrated fairly consistently from March through June (and then in September).

• At this point, I only have one semester left of grad school, and this past semester was the best one so far.

• And as for the marathons…well, I grossly underestimated how many I’d be doing in 2011.

• But the best surprise of all of 2011 was the proposal. Talk about having something up your sleeve!

2010 was a hard act to follow, but 2011 did just fine. And 2012 has a clear advantage, because how could I not be excited about the year in which I get married and get my M.A.?

I love making resolutions, mostly because I love making to-do lists, but at the same time I haven’t really made any these past few years, and things seems to be falling nicely into place. So I think I’ll stick with that method.

No resolutions, just happy years.

So, if you either need a study break, are tired of the traditional Christmas songs, or, in fact, want to “take down the holidays from within,” then this one’s for you.

And, yes, I’m still listening to it on repeat.

If only there were a full-length version.

In fact, I have just 13 pages left to write, for 2 papers, over the course of the next 4 days.

If you remember, last year I celebrated the end of fall semester finals with a trip to Puerto Rico. Admittedly, that would be hard to top. We left the morning after my last final, and spent just over a week relaxing on the beach.

This year, we’re leaving approximately seven hours after I turn my papers in and going to Argentina for two weeks!

Not only will it be warm – think low 80s – but I’ll also be able to check a few more things off my list: reading for pleasure, traveling abroad, and hablando español. Plus, I’ll get to meet more of BNF’s family!

When I went to Buenos Aires with Cla, we had a blast. We played tourist, shopped, ate, saw tango shows – and we did it all using my high school Spanish and a college friend we had down there.

We took a photo outside our favorite heladeria, so we'd remember where it was.

It was a learning experience.

This time, not only have I been practicing, but I also have BNF and his family to translate – or to at least repeat phrases a little bit slower.

If nothing else, I know that I can shop and order food on my own.

That has to count for something.

Now, just a few more days…

You would scour the circulars leading up to Thanksgiving so you had a game plan. Play the odds and plan a route. Forget Risk (which I never played); Black Friday could be its very own strategic board game.

Getting out the door by 4am was a challenge. You had to really want it. Because, sure, the easy option would be to sleep off Thanksgiving dinner, but if you wanted to be a hero, you got your butt up early and were back in time for brunch.

(And maybe you left your bags in the car so your dad wouldn’t see exactly how much money you’d actually saved by buying so much on sale.)

Regardless, these were the rules of engagement.

And now the rules have changed.

It’s like a whole new world out there. I thought it was crazy two years ago, when stores opened at midnight. Only a couple hours to digest all that turkey? And what about all the wine that’s still in my system? Now we need to plan a DD for Black Friday?

I didn’t love it, but I did it.

This year? I refuse to participate.

Black Friday now officially starts on Thursday – on Thanksgiving, with several stores opening at 10pm. It’s too much.

There’s a piece in the LA Times that quotes a retail industry analyst: “Retailers recognize the importance of being convenient, and one of those conveniences is opening earlier so people don’t have to wait in line at 4 in the morning in the cold.“

Here’s some advice: don’t be a baby. And bring some gloves.

The waiting, the freezing, the pushing, the getting separated from your mother and lost in Circuit City surrounded by crazy people just so you can get your brother a flash drive that he never uses – that’s all part of the Black Friday charm. It’s part of the challenge, part of the thrill.

And so, in protest (that I’m so sure will be noticed), I’ll sit this one out. It was a good run. Black Friday has been good to me. And it’s been a hell of a bonding time with Mama.

But I refuse to play by these new rules.

Thanks a lot, Wal-Mart.*

*And everyone else who changed the game.

Photo Credit: Mama

But then, around miles 8 through 10, I realized that I was keeping a fairly steady average pace of just under 10:00. And I started wondering if I could keep that up for the entire race.

Photo Credit: Mama

The short answer is no. I couldn’t. I kept it up until about miles 20 to 21, and then I hit the wall. The weather was great; the course was beautiful (albeit, hilly); the spectators were loud; and the signs were creative. But my body knew that it was almost done for the year and it decided that it wanted to be done NOW.

So I pushed. I talked to myself. I sang out loud a little bit. I promised my body that we’d be done in just a few more songs.

Around mile 24, I wanted to cry, because every inch of my body was in pain, but I couldn’t. There was simply no moisture left.

Around mile 25, I turned off my music and let myself be propelled by the cheering.

And as I crossed the finish line, I acknowledged that the pushing was worth it, as I saw my third PR in three attempts.

Official time: 4:26:34

Once I’d finished my bottle of water, I did cry. But they were very happy, very exhausted, very proud, and very relieved (that I don’t have to do this again for a long time) tears.

Philly’s tag line was “Best:Time of Your Life.” And it was.

Literally.

Photo Credit: Harry

*Before the race started, BNF saw a guy with a sign that said, “On a scale of 1 to 10, you’re a 13.1.” As the sign guy saw him appreciate it and saw BNF’s marathon bib, he told him, “You’re a 26.2!”

• Tomorrow: we pick up our running packets at the expo.

• Sunday: I run my third marathon in six weeks and officially qualify for Marathon Maniac status.

I have to admit, my body has surprised me these past couple months. After Chicago, I found myself thinking, how in the hell am I going to do this again in three weeks? But my body rallied. It recovered quicker than I remembered from past marathons, and performed consistently better.

Maybe because I didn’t coddle it quite so much.

I’ve now seen a new city; gotten two new PRs; become a CamelBak convert; and realized that body glide is worth every penny (if I remember to use it).

I am ultimately glad that I pushed my body this year, and that I know what it’s capable of. I’m glad that I did it now, and that there’s no reason for me to do it ever again. (The maniac part, not the the marathon.)

And I’m glad that we’re ending the maniac run in Philly. At home. With friends and family and Wawa to celebrate.

Who says mimosas don’t go well with hoagies?

On Saturday, we went Bang Bang. I’m pretty sure that’s what everyone at the shooting range was calling it. Or maybe it was just me, but that’s neither here nor there.

The short story is that I absolutely loved it.

The longer story starts with the observation that shooting ranges are surprisingly (to me) popular. We ended up waiting nearly two and a half hours for a lane to open up…then spent about an hour shooting once it was our turn. No wonder the line moves so slowly.

Between BNF and me, we shot 150 rounds using a 9mm. For a first-time user, I have to say the 9mm was pretty user friendly. I adjusted to the minor recoil fairly quickly and didn’t even mind when the casings bounced back and hit me in the head.

I realized, though, that this whole “aiming” thing is harder than it seems. For instance, take a look at this photo:

I felt like I was doing it right, but after I’d shot, we pulled the target back and BNF inspected it, then turned to me. “Wow! Almost all your shots landed right at the zombie’s head!“

“That’s great,” I told him. “But I was aiming for the girl!” (Not because I’m pro-zombie or anything, don’t be ridiculous. I just thought she was presenting a bigger target.)

Regardless, I did manage to get a few good shots off…

A combination of my shots and BNF's

…and I only knocked the target off once!

The blue guy on the ground was ours. Luckily, we had another blue guy to replace him with.

Next time – yes, there will be a next time – I’ll try something new. Maybe something a little bigger, with a little more boom. And maybe I’ll even aim for the zombie, though that doesn’t mean that his victim will come out unscathed.

Bottom line – I think the gun shop employee said it best, after seeing my reaction to initially being handed the weapon:

“Congratulations. It looks like you’ve just started an expensive new hobby.”

Indeed.

At first, I wanted to surprise him with the perfect suggestion, so I did a little snooping via Mama regarding his favorite music. “Good luck, honey, ” she told me. “He mostly listens to Sousa marches.”

Not exactly something you can dance to.

So I went to the source – still trying to be sneaky.

“Hi Daddy –

Do you have a favorite song or artist? Or a favorite movie? (And if the answer is yes, what are they?)“

*Side note: 1) I thought the movie might have a soundtrack. 2) If I hadn’t added the last part, he might have just said, “yes.” That’s Daddy.

His response:

“Sousa marches/The Platters; The Man Who Would Be King.“

I had to look up everything except Sousa marches.

And after realizing that The Platters aren’t quite what I’m going for, and The Man Who Would Be King doesn’t exactly have a danceable soundtrack, I finally asked the blunt question.

“Do you have any song in particular that you’d like to dance to for the father-daughter dance?“

I received a response just a few minutes later:

“I will think about it and let you know. I guess “Stars and Stripes Forever” is out of the question, but I need something slower anyway.“

I’m sorry to say that yes, Daddy, it is out of the question. I need something slower, too. We both know how (un)graceful I am. Someone’s toes are getting stepped on.

But I do appreciate how consistent you are. And how well Mama knows you.

Maybe I’ll even ask the DJ if he can remix a Sousa march. You never know.

Or maybe not.

*Modern Family