I’ll get up in the morning while they’ve all got hangovers and run my 5 miles. But the women who do run are usually 10 years younger than me and they’re really obsessed about running. That’s all they do. They’re really boring.
Nowadays, as they've been working on the cars and the quality control is getting a lot better, there's not a really a big difference. The cars are built specifically for different types of race tracks, whether it's a high-travel track or low-travel track, and that's what they go by. They go by data. It's past me, way beyond me now. But as far as me saying I've got a favorite car, they're getting stuff more consistent. I don't really see that anymore. They all seem to run about the same - unless they're purposely trying to make one differently, which they can do very easily.
I've apparently been the victim of growing up, which apparently happens to all of us at one point or another. It's been going on for quite some time now, without me knowing it. I've found that growing up can mean a lot of things. For me, it doesn't mean I should become somebody completely new and stop loving the things I used to love. It means I've just added more things to my list. Like for example, I'm still beyond obsessed with the winter season and I still start putting up strings of lights in September. I still love sparkles and grocery shopping and really old cats that are only nice to you half the time. I still love writing in my journal and wearing dresses all the time and staring at chandeliers. But some new things I've fallen in love with -- mismatched everything. Mismatched chairs, mismatched colors, mismatched personalities. I love spraying perfumes I used to wear when I was in high school. It brings me back to the days of trying to get a close parking spot at school, trying to get noticed by soccer players, and trying to figure out how to avoid doing or saying anything uncool, and wishing every minute of every day that one day maybe I'd get a chance to win a Grammy. Or something crazy and out of reach like that. 😉 I love old buildings with the paint chipping off the walls and my dad's stories about college. I love the freedom of living alone, but I also love things that make me feel seven again. Back then naivety was the norm and skepticism was a foreign language, and I just think every once in a while you need fries and a chocolate milkshake and your mom. I love picking up a cookbook and closing my eyes and opening it to a random page, then attempting to make that recipe. I've loved my fans from the very first day, but they've said things and done things recently that make me feel like they're my friends -- more now than ever before. I'll never go a day without thinking about our memories together.
Oftentimes at Yale, I'll be sitting around studying or drinking or hanging out when I'll hear one of my friends talk about a project they're doing for a class or a rally they're organizing or a play they're putting on. And I'll just think, really, honestly, how remarkably privileged we are to hang around with such a talented group of people around here. I am constantly reminded of the immense passion and creativity of those with whom I get to spend time every day.
I think that they've just got some talent going to Lenoir-Rhyne from this area. And to be coming from South Central really means a lot to us. I think that with the young coaches teaching these guys and what they're going to teach, you're going to see some more guys walk through these doors and sign and do some things in the future.
I go out on the porch and gaze up at the stars twinkling above, the random scattering of millions of stars. Even in a planetarium you wouldn't find as many. Some of them really look big and distinct, like if you reached your hand out intently you could touch them. The whole thing is breathtaking. Not just beautiful though--the stars like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they're watching me. What I've done up till now, what I'm going to do--they know it all. Nothing gets past their watchful eyes. As I sit there under the shining night sky, again a violent fear takes hold of me. My heart's pounding a mile a minute, and I can barely breathe. All these millions of stars looking down on me, and I've never given them more than a passing thought before. Bot just stars--how many other things haven't I noticed in the world, things I know nothing about? I suddenly feel helpless, completely powerless. And I know I'll never outrun that awful feeling. (135)
Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around - nobody big, I mean - except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be.
They've got a great team, I really like them. They're a young team, and they've done what the Twins did in that division a few years ago. This is what happens when you get a core group of guys and let them play with each other for three, four years. You get a special bunch. They're having fun; you can see it.
I think they've played excellent. David stepped up big game in the Ole Miss game and Walter has been stepping up ever since he's been starting. To me, I can't really ask them for too much more. They are doing the best that I think they can do, as far as being freshmen and all. They don't really know a whole lot, they are just playing the best they can play. I think they're doing a great job.
I've just been doing interviews all morning and talking to people back home. (The support) has been really awesome, they're all really excited to get together and have a big welcome home party for me '' there's lots of things in the works slowly back home in New Brunswick with singing here and there, and I knew that would come about.