I'm scared. And here's why:

Sooooo, I have this little half marathon to run in about 10 days.

Remember when I could knock 13 miles out like it was nothing? Those days are gone, my friends. Long gone. You know, sometimes life happens and things get in the way and you get beaten down and the thing you used to love becomes a chore and Jesus Christ when did a mile become so long?!

Well. That happened to me. I fought with running for a long time. I think after running Madrid last year, my body just needed a break, but, my mind couldn't do it, so I did this thing where I kept signing up for races, hoping my body would meet my brain and I could remember what a good solid race felt like and be inspired again. Not so much.

Naturally, I wasn't ready to give up. I wasn't ready to stop fighting myself, my body, my heart, I wasn't going to stop. No sir! After all, I'm a runner--it's what I do. How I classify myself. I'd lost so many other classifications over the past year, I could not under any circumstances lose another.

So, I fought it. It was dumb, and painful, and heartbreaking, but, I stayed with it.

Mostly because I had this girl by my side.

My favorite picture of us--pre Rock n Roll Madrid

My Madrid girl. The girl who made it possible for me to go on an adventure of a lifetime. An adventure I will never forget!

She was my Mrs Hugh at MDI this last year, she invited me to stay with her in DC to run a race, and she was going to go to Norway with me--but, that race got cancelled--boo!! She's been with me for all my races in the last year, and the thought of doing this without her? Terrified. Not having her to run me in? To cheer me on? To tell me Eddie Redmayne is at the finish line? Scarier than hell.

Team Mrs & Mrs Hugh at MDI

As much as I am going to hate running without her, I have to do it. Unfortunately, my friends can't always be at my beck and call to fly halfway across the world to run 13.1 miles with me--I know, rude, isn't it? Kidding! I have to find my feet, find the runner I used to be. The girl who could go out and crush 20 miles on her own. I need to find her. Even if I am running scared and alone.

After Rock n Roll DC in March

But, she'll be there, in my heart. You all will be. Everyone who has buoyed me up this last year. I will go out there, and pound those cobblestones into the ground to thank you for what you've given me.

To thank you for being by my side. For being there when my world crashed down. For listening to my bullshit. For not allowing me to give up. And to thank Christy for encouraging me to sign up for Marine Corps Marathon, aka, my favorite race ever (!). For reminding me that I might not be the runner I once was, but, I am still a runner.

I will go out there, scared as all get out, and I will run my little legs off! I will run for all of you. For the prayers you've said, for the texts you've sent, for the conversations you've shared, the laugher you've inspired. For each and every single one of you, I will tackle my fears and do this thing!

Or, I'll have a panic attack next week and end up sitting in the hotel eating ALL THE THINGS. Either or.

It's really 50/50 at this point. ;)

This happened

And?

I have no words.

It was.... I have no words. I'm sure I will have many in a few weeks after shenanigans in Stoke-on-Trent, but, for now, I am still a little shell shocked and laughing. Was a great show, so much fun, and so much glitter. Thank you, Neely for being my date, for laughing with me and for singing "We Belong" with me. It's raining men!

Shoes by Louboutin, dress by Antrho and dumb smile by stagey friendship

Priscilla, you are, in fact, the Queen. You've managed to render this stagey girl speechless. Can't wait to see what happens in the UK!

OH MY LORD I MIGHT ACTUALLY DIE.

I have Twix, and he has, well.....

(please see instgram for the Twix hilarity that unfolded as well, and how I really feel about the situation) (this is real life, friends, real life!)

Thanks, Dallas Summer Musicals for a great night on the big pink bus! I still can't believe I survived that show! Boy howdy!

The happenings

'Ello lovelies! (done in Cockney accent to pay honor to Eliza Doolittle day--which was Monday, duh)

Two quickie things: my nephew, Mac turned a year old (sob! tears!) and my Maine girl, Danielle, had a handsome baby boy on Monday as well! Won't be hard for me to remember little baby Hank's birthday!  Love you guys!

What have y'all been up to? I've been running like a madwoman. Here's proof:

If you follow me on twitter or instagram (@shabbyprincess) you know I had a really rough week. I had a work function to attend on Friday night, which I did not want to go to, so, my girl Kat and I met at Neiman Marcus across the street beforehand where I thew my paycheck at the problem. Then we went to Roy's for dinner and dessert and unwind time. Where we stayed out waaaaay too late when I had to teach at 8:30am, but, it was still nice to have some time away from the barre with my a few of my faves.

Kat is a giant / I am a midget. 

I worked all morning and then jetted back to Dallas to attend my Ro's daughter's dance recital. Omg. I died. Just, so much cute.

Ro's daughter taking a pic. Love this. 

My adopted niece after her performance.

I got to hang with one of my yogis for a bit and there might be a second job opportunity there....y'all cross your fingers please!

Clate and me--team Backbends 2013!

On Monday I bought new running shoes and got my run on. I have a race to train for after all. I mean, it's in like two weeks, but, whatever. Ha! Feels good to find my feet again, after a year of fighting with running, I think we're finally making up. If only I could make up with other situations I've been awkward with for the last year.

Speaking of...

I am seeing this show with my girl Neely this week!

Happening. 

I. Cannot. Wait. It will be 24,601 different kind of hilarious and I was talking to a friend about it on Monday night and it just made me laugh even harder. I can't picture it! I fully expect that I will die laughing. I understand a certain character has pink shoes and that it's also "the gayest show ever" (direct quote, not my words). DYING.

And that's basically my life lately. Working. Running. Gay musical watching.

Nothing really abnormal, huh?

Fairy tales: do they come true?

I've been driving myself into the ground with work, which is both good and bad. I have workaholic tendencies, which means I tend to go 150% into things--it's good, don't get me wrong, but, I made sure to take the weekend off because I know I don't have a day off until I leave for the race in June I even work right up until 3 hours before my flight--truth).

I had a nice Sunday sitting by the pool and getting sunburnt, per usual, and then I went all into my brain. Which, as we know, bad place! Ha.

I got to thinking: we all struggle, we all have battles. Some people keep their battles to themselves, some people seemingly have fewer or lesser struggles than others, and some just plot along through it all. I have been dealt some pretty rough things over the course of my life--we all have been, don't get me wrong, I know that I am not alone in my struggles, in my strife, but, sometimes it seems harder than others (that's what she said). Sometimes, I wonder when the storm will pass, when I will look back on these days and laugh, when this will be but a blip on my radar--stories I will tell my children when they are old enough. When?

I feel like I sink further and further into the dark, so does that mean future, my ending should be that much brighter? Cause I kind hope so...

As I sat in my big ol empty house, with my take out Thai and Modern Family, I felt so incredibly like Bridget Jones. (if only there was a reindeer jumper wearing attorney whose paddling pool I used to wade in as a child, we'd be set!)

Anyways, as I reflected on my semi sad single Sunday night (alliteration!), I started to wonder: does my history, my heartbreak, the sum of me, does that mean that my happy ending will be in fact fairytale? My best friend noted in a blog post recently that I believe in happy endings and fairy tales and dreams--and I do, I really do, but sometimes, those dreams are so far away that they seem pointless and silly. What makes me worthy of a happy ending? What makes me so special? (more importantly, what makes that Hannah chick so special that she gets Eddie Redmayne, seriously)

I've made mistakes, I am far from perfect, so, does that mean my ending is far from perfect? Does that mean my ending is, in fact, take out, cats and knitting? And how do I reverse that? How do I wash away my mistakes and pave myself a brighter future--preferably one that involves a handsome actor, last name Jackman or Redmayne?

I don't have the answers, I don't know where my happy ending is, or will be. But, I know that fairy tales do come true--I've been blessed to see some friends living just that--their happily ever after, and on the good days, on the hopeful days, I know that I will be there too. Someday. Somehow. Somewhere.

It does

And, I'm lucky enough to be going back in less than a month.

Reunited with my place where my soul lives, reunited with my goddamn heart (gotta pick it up from Stoke--rumor has it that's where it will be hanging out) (thought I got the bastard back in January, turns out, I was wrong) (Jasper effing Bloom).

I am a very spoiled little girl, and I am fully aware of it.

Looking forward to running a race in Luxembourg with a good friend waiting for me at the finish line; looking forward to taking her to my favorite pub in London; looking forward to crazy tackling Molly in Cambridge; looking forward to hopefully meeting up with some lovely London blogger friends (looking at YOU LovelyJubblyLondon!); looking forward to a lot of things. (wishing my Madrid sister was going to be there--this is the first race in a year I've done without her by my side. Going to be bittersweet and sad)

Can't believe it.

Can't believe this life I've been blessed to live. Even the heartache, the heartbreak, the tears and the sorrows--and trust me, there are plenty of those--even through that, I have been given much. This, this I do not forget.

#blessed

"I'll stand and fight, I will not run": Air For A Wise Celtic Fool

I stumbled across this a few weeks ago and on Friday night got sucked into the rabbit hole of listening to it on repeat.

This song and the accompanying soundtrack may be the most beautiful thing ever written (by people other than Lloyd Webber or Boubil and Schonberg). Just all hauntingly beautiful and moving. I can't get it out of my head!

Oh, I love it so.

I am determined to walk down the aisle to this on my wedding day--and even more determined to marry a lovely man who can sing like dear Killian here. My love for the Irish continues to grow. I should just up and move--I'd be a delightful little pub singer there, eh?

Give it a listen, you can thank me later.

On Mother's Day

If you've been reading here for a bit, you know that I don't have a mom. She died when I was 19 in a very sudden and horrible accident. Losing her so suddenly has certainly shaped the course of my life. 

My twink. My momma. THANKS FOR THE NOSE, MOM. 

Anyone who knew her will tell you I am her clone in every sense of the word. From the way I look (her twin), my laugh (noted, here), my expressions, and the way I talk is exactly like her. I've never been one of those people who was afraid of becoming their mother--mine was pretty awesome and to be one third of the woman she was would be quite an achievement for me. 

I hope and pray daily that I am living a life she would be proud of. 

Even without my madre, I have some awesome mom folk in my life:

I have an amazing stepmom who I adore, who rocks my socks and gave me my mini sis. 

Stepmomma and me on her birthday 2011

Last year, my best friend, Sara became a mom. 

My favorite picture ever!

Oh lord, y'all, I can't talk about her and Mac without crying. She is my rock. She's been by my side for several years now and I honestly can't remember my life without her. She has been there for some of my best moments (meeting Hugh), and some of my lowest. She has never failed to make me laugh, or to answer the phone when I am a hysterical mess. She has supported me forever and always. I have no freaking clue what I did to deserve her, but, I am hoping no one ever figures out I'm not worthy of her friendship, I want to keep her around! We have the most fun together and she gets me in a way very few do.

When she had Mac last year, I was a mess. She called to tell me she was in labor and I basically cried all day. She waited so long for him and y'all should have seen me telling everyone in NYC that my best friend was pregnant! Hilarious. I love that kiddo more than I could even tell you. He is her clone in every sense of the word, which means, I adore him. 

Watching her as a mom has been such a great joy for me as a friend. She's a brilliant mother and I can't wait to learn from her when I eventually have my own children.

Another amazing mother is my Dallas bestie gal, Ro. 

Musical theatre sisters

Our meeting was very happenstance and I fully believe God gave me her because He knew I'd need her. She is a redheaded London educated, soprano singing, daughter raising goddess. She is my sister. My angel of music. She gave me my voice. The woman who protected me when I needed it, who stood for me when I could not stand for myself and who loved me when I could not even like myself. 

I took her Mother's Day gift to her the other day and she argued with me about it for a few minutes until I burst into tears telling her to take the damn gift because I could never repay her for what she's given to me. I could never do enough to show her what her friendship and her family has meant to me these last 18 months. I thank God for her daily--I pray He doesn't realize I'm not worthy of her either! 

My sister. 

Drowned rats in Central Park. Worst picture, but we agree it's our most "us". And, our favorite candid of us ever. 

Oh, my sister. My soul mate. My other half. I'm convinced I don't need a male other half, because she completes me. She gave me my nieces, the pride and joy of my life. She has raised two amazing daughters, and has shown me what it is like to love through the good times and bad. This woman has been there and protected me when I needed it the most--when I didn't think I did, but, she knew better than me. I'll never forget the day after my mom died--I had to go into work with my dad and my sister just grabbed me, took me in her office and hid me from everyone. She continues to do just that. I'm amazed at her devotion and dedication to me, this little wretched soul. I am too blessed. 

My longtime bestie, Amy. She's mommy to a wee little half Aussie, half Texan bundle of sweetness. She makes me laugh, makes me cry, has grown up with me and shared the hard times and the good. She's an amazing mother and equally amazing friend. 

And, my Maine girls. 

I love them more than I could ever say. Sarah has sweet little Ty, who calls me "Aunt Owwie" and Danielle is a momma to be. They too, have given me more than I could ever return. My heart is so full when I am with them!

Thank you to all these women for being my friends, for showing me such great examples of womanhood, of strength, and of love. I hope I can eventually repay you for what you've given me, although, unless Warren Buffet leaves me his entire legacy, I think I will fall short. But, I love you. 

Happy Mother's Day to all you lovely momma ladies out there, I hope the day is as fabulous as you!

xoxo

The only skirt you'll ever wear

Last week, because I was having a rough week and a paycheck burning a hole in my yoga pants, I roped the bestie TPG into an Anthro trip. Lucky for me, she's usually a pretty easy shopping con.

(hard to believe it's been a year since I forced her into an Anthropologie store for the first time!)

I went looking for a dress to wear to see a show on Friday (yeah, because I don't have enough dresses) (shut up) (I really do wear at least one dress a week--it's a sickness), and instead found one to wear all.summer.long which we can discuss later, but, TPG spotted THE BEST SKIRT EVER. And I, I do not like skirts. I then have to find a shirt to "go" and usually the skirt hits at my waist which isn't really the most flattering on me and it's just too much dang work. 99.999% of the time. Until now.

Seriously, I could wear this every single day of my life. It even has a ruffled petticoat liner. Y'ALL.

 The online pictures do not do it justice at all. 

I wore it to the show with a black tee, turquoise necklace and my red Valentino's. I felt so glamorous and received no less than three compliments from total strangers on the skirt. Winning!

Oh, and it comes in orange--for all us Texans! Or, I guess, Tennessee fans too. It's not quite burnt orange enough for Texas. But! Orange! Pretty!

Y'all, get thyselves to Anthro and purchase--you will not regret it! Most favorite essential wear to everything purchase I have made in recent memory.

(wasn't compensated or anything for this, no, no, just that obsessed with the skirt)

"We go together...."

There is nothing like a reunion with your theatre friends. 

Of this I know too well.  I have experienced it in London, and then again this weekend. 

Cause nothing says "class" like bathroom mirror selfies

Seeing the people who have pushed me, challenged me and learned with me for so many years; laughing over stage doors and dressers. Telling stories about how far we’ve come, and how far we’ve yet to go. Singing Rent at the top of our lungs. Crying tears of heartache and shared sorrow. That is a type of love that is very, very hard to find.

I've known these girls for 20+ years

Sometimes going home is really hard, and sometimes, it’s really special.

My friends are so crazy talented, I can't even tell you!

Like when your childhood best friend sings a jazzy/blues version of “If I Were A Bell” (it was my audition song for 7,000 years) and the Rizzo to your Frenchie announces in the midst of our friends’ concert that she is pregnant.

I spy a mama to be! 

When you have a heart to heart with your big sister where you learn so much about yourself, about your relationship and about what it means to be family that you get in your car and are just floored by the hand you’ve been dealt.

SISTERS!!!!

And sometimes, sometimes, you find yourself left home alone with an 80 inch TV and no supervision, which obviously means LES MIS KAROKE PARTY.

"Look down!" (and see, the Diet Coke)

That’s not too bad either.

However, when the Scottish girl sits in the sun for two hours and becomes a roasted peanut—that, that is not so good.

Proof.

Effing tan lines. Again. 

Pass the aloe.

ps. It’s like Barcelona Burn all over again—my timing, is nothing short of perfect.

What did y'all do over the weekend? Does going home scare you as much as it scares me?