Oh, I wanted to start a new cycle and begin the week with a day of rest...

But I knew that just wasn't the right thing to do.  Resting one day a week makes that day precious and I didn't want to spend that one precious day on the first day of the week.  It's like allowing yourself to eat popcorn at one movie a week when you see two or three movies a week.  If you have the popcorn at the first film, you can be tempted to cheat much more easily.  If you wait until the last film, not only do you savor the popcorn more, you can't cheat yourself. 

So I walked.  I wanted to go by Best Buy anyway, to marvel at yesterday.  I went there yesterday afternoon when my laptop crashed.  Not this one, the one I bought last year. The one on which the warranty expired just over a week ago, but I didn't buy the extension of the warranty from HP, because I'd purchased "tech support" from Best Buy and the sales geek (well, he is a member of their Geek Squad after all) promised me I didn't need the HP warranty if I bought their plan.  Well, their plan doesn't cover hardware.  So I was screwed, until I pointed out what he'd said to the manager geek (he was actually not geek-like, and was very helpful).  They are covering the repair, and the minute I get it back, I will add the warranty extension.

I walked just a bit further than before, in about the same time.  That felt good.  I saw where a tagger had marked their territory.  The same tag on two storefronts, one a foot massage place, and the other a chocolate dessert store.  I guess they want sweets and pampering.

The adult novelty/shoe/lingerie store is having a sale.  A "busting out" sale.  That made me wonder, in this age of hair extensions, Spanx, Wonder Bras, and so on, if the FTC isn't going to make women carry truth in advertising labels at some point.  Or make them hand out disclaimers in bars to men, before the men buy them drinks.  "Warning:  The appearance of the woman you are about to buy a drink for will not be the same in the morning as it is now."  Then again, with men using more skin care products, wearing "power T-shirts" to hold in guts and the like, maybe this is something that should cross gender lines.  "The flat stomach of the man who bought you a drink may well be a beer gut tomorrow morning."

I reached the Mosque today.  I'd not noticed the construction scaffolding around its minaret before.  Wonder what that's about?

This morning's "run" in my mind was from when I was stationed at Homestead, an Air Force Base in Florida.  It's about an hour South of downtown Miami, and the base was damaged so badly by a hurricane years ago, it's no longer an active base.  But I bet the roads I used to run on are still there.  Traffic on the roads on base was so light, there was only one traffic light.  You could run the road that ran adjacent to the flight line, and be close to the jets that were the primary mission.

My roommate for the time there that I had a roommate was a much more serious runner than I.  Dan ran more miles on more days, and trained harder.  I ran with him once, and was so exhausted from trying to keep up I said "never again".  He trained with someone else stationed there and they used to run to the local high school to use their track.  They would then run intervals.  110 yards, 220, 330, 440, 550 and then 660.  Then they'd step down, 550, 440, 330, 220 and finish with 110, and then repeat the process at least one and sometimes two more times.  Then they'd run home.  I got tired just listening to the description of their schedule.

I saw Dan once after leaving Homestead.  He asked me to find him a motel in Santa Monica when he came to town to run the L.A. Marathon.  It was in the pre e-mail days, he sent me a snail-mail letter (we'd stayed in touch).  So I picked him up at the airport, along with his wife and deposited him at the motel not far from my family's old apartment.  I never saw him again.  But I picture him out there running.

I also pondered Mitt Romney this morning.  Not in general, but about a very specific question.  I have $47 in my wallet and I'd be willing to donate it to his campaign...hell, I'll go to the ATM and get $60 more and make it an even $100.  If he will tell me just how many years worth of tax returns he demanded from the potential Vice-Presidential nominees before he chose Paul Ryan.  I wonder if Marco Rubio, Bobby Jindal and other potential nominees refused to give him ten full years of returns, and offered their 2010 and 2011 returns only, saying that was all he needed.  Perhaps Paul Ryan was willing to give up ten years of returns and that's why he was the one chosen.  I suppose $100 wouldn't motivate anyone in his campaign to tell me the answer to my question, but I will continue to wonder.

I also noticed a sign on the "beauty" place next to one of the nail salons on my walk.  It says they offer "waxing", which I understand, "piercing", which I understand, "facials", which I understand, "henna", which I understand, and "threading", of which I am clueless.  Heck, I used to treat myself to a facial once or twice a year and one time while getting a facial the young woman pampering me convinced me to let her wax my back.  My experience was not at all like that of Steve Carell in "The 40 Year Old Virgin".  I did not scream aloud, and the woman torturing me was Vietnamese, not Korean.  But I screamed inside and vowed never again.  On second thought, never mind.  I don't want to know what threading it.  But maybe I'll ponder it tomorrow.