(Ed. Note- The Christmasbaby Blog is going to be a play by play of our trip to Portland last week. What you'll be reading, matey's, is my observances/experiences of the trip for your amusement. Links to applicable restaurants/sites will be included in case you're planning a trip any time soon. Dates listed are from Saturday, June 12th through Friday the 18th.)
We left at the boot crack of dawn from Mpls after the Bean dropped Moda and I off at MSP Airport. The trip was thusly- D and L's wedding for the first few days with the remainder of the trip on the road with no real destination except some wineries and the beach where they filmed the end of "Goonies". (My contribution to the planning)
We arrived in Seattle where we awaited our connecting flight to Portland, killing time in the airport bar and trying to find something edible...and alcoholic on the menu. (This mistake, a weak bloody Mary and terrible breakfast sandwiches would prove our most costly mistake on the trip, oddly enough.) We hit the tarmac (like a couple of RO-HOCK STARS) for the twin engine to skip us over to OR. What we were treated to on this gorgeous day was a pristine view of Mt.St. Helens (courtesy of our Captain) which took our breath away. I don't know what it is about mountainous vacations, but flying into them gives me chills every time.
We cabbed it over to the rental place (way cheaper via Priceline.com than renting at the airport) and ended up doubling back TO the airport to our hotel. The place was magical for it's unobstructed view of Mt. Hood- And 24 hour fitness/pool areas. Score. We managed some quick lunch over at the Red Robin before heading back.
After a quick power nap, we headed over to Washington park to meet Shade and the Krump for some hiking. (Nestled by the Kids museum, OR Zoo, and Arboretum, it boasts a beautiful rose garden that puts Harriet to shame: http://www.washingtonparkpdx.org/) While catching up with the fellas, we remarked that it was sunny AND beautiful- Two things not often associated w/the Pacific NW. We were informed that this was technically the 1st few days of summer and they endure 7 months of gray misty drizzle prior to that. (As evidenced by the # of people who were fish belly white. I mean, they make albino's look like George Hamilton. Really)
What we encountered on the trail as well as lush green beauty was a fair amount of post-rain mud patches. Some were easier to navigate than others, however the one we happened upon was larger than a king sized mattress and fairly deep. As my buddies delicately traipsed through it, I opted to skip step over to the dryer looking (looking...btw) embankment...only to find out that it was slick. So my leg went underneath me and I landed full out on my side in the middle of the puddle. This jacked my already f#cked up shoulder with white pain up to my ear and covered me from neck to foot in mud. 5 minutes into our walk.
I had to laugh.
We finished the hike easily enough, waiting for the mud to dry and (my) avoiding pictures when I could. I lied when I said I was okay and was anxious to get back for a shower and some ibuprofen. We had a mini-picnic w/some local wine and cheese in the parking lot before (ready BREAK) splitting up to get ready for the night 1 party.
We stopped in a local Target that also sold wine so that we'd have something to bring with (I know, right? Cheez-its, then wine. Go fig) and after being introduced to some more KS residents we headed out to meet the future Hubby and Weef over at Rontoms. (http://www.yelp.com/biz/rontoms-portland-2 FYI, that's right. Their website is a black page. I'm pretty sure there's a reason for that.)
The bar was packed, and I mean packed, and we were famished. The menu had 8 items on it, and it turned out 7 were "out". (Even though we saw burgers etc. passing through the kitchen window) The server was surly, as was pointed out, and we ended up just cock-tailing and commiserating in the corner away from the rabble with the rest of the wedding buddies.
Finally, we were about to eat our own faces off when it was suggested we hit Montage for late night snick snacks. (http://montageportland.com/pageContent.aspx?id=5 ) With the promise of alligator bites and frog legs (?) we trudged off. Trusting out Iphone map apps would get us there. And let me tell you, speakeasies are easier to find. I'd just finished my 14th tirade on the neighborhood (Industrial area? Check. Under an overpass? Check. Dimly lit? Check. I commented that this was like a "Batman" origin story waiting to happen) When we did find it, there were two trannies out front wearing fishnets up to their ears and a woman waiting for her (date?). This dude made his way out the front and slowly but surely as he approached her his torso got lower and lower to the ground until it was parallel and he could grab her for support. Whoops.
Turns out this place is quite the gem. We were seated promptly and the service was fast as can be. We enjoyed (the hell out of) the frog legs...who knew? Before tucking in to their signature make and some crawfish jambalaya while splitting a bottle of wine. So. Effing. Tasty. I was trying to do a mental tally of our bill when it was dropped in front of us and..."This can't be right." The first of many times I'd utter that phrase in Portland. It was sick cheap. And we went back and passed out with the knowledge we had a killer meal for the money.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
13.1
We did it. On Sunday, we ran the Minneapolis Half-Marathon/Marathon. We got up at 4:30 munched a bagel (Muscle Milk for me) and biked to the Depot. Team Awesome convened and at 7 a.m. we were off. We stayed tight until around mile 4 when after a water station we were split up. Moda and I stayed close to our pace group (10:53) but closing in on the next mile she put on speed and I gave her the thumbs up and I ate her dust.
Around the 10K mark there was an incline and I started shallow breathing so I slowed down and gave my self some deep yogi breaths. (This also marks the point where the faster half marathoners were already doubling back)
Mile 7/8...I started noticing the pings. After mile 8 I had to start 1 minute walks then 8 minute runs.
Mile 9- The hip. I also learned the hard way that the crappy glucose packs they give you taste like prune favored paste. I was like a dog eating peanut butter.
Mile 11.5 was when my Achilles tendons both started snapping. It was also here that I think I started hallucinating.
Mile 12.5- There's a marching band. I sally forth for a strong finish.
So that's crossed off the list. We're already planning on a pre-July 4th 10K around Lake Harriet (twice) with our PR's (ideally) under 60 minutes.
And now, a timeline:
Mid-February: After hearing stories from her buddy, Moda gets it into her mind to run (at least) a half marathon. I agree to train with her. We begin by increasing our run time on the treadmill from our (normal) 30 minutes to around 45.
March: I'm topping out at 5 miles. Moda is already shooting for PRs and gets up to 6, then 8. Getting off the treadmill is a daunting task. I manage my 1st outdoor run. On a long evening walk, we come up with the moniker of "Pam and Sam". We join "Mapmyrun.com"
April: 1st 6 mile outdoor run for us. (Isles and Calhoun) Our long runs are officially relegated to the weekend followed by a big brunch somewhere where we'll moan getting up and walking again. Another nice weekend brings us to our first long trail run (and last run before the 10K) around Hyland. Moda starts having hip flexor frass, my lower back gets twitchy two days later. We both invest in foam rollers.
4/24 we run our first race. 10K. In the rain. We feel like achey drowned rats afterwards.
May: After a week long break, we start again. All runs, indoor and (mostly) outdoor runs are mapped and never less than 5.75/6 miles. The training culminates in a 10+ mile hike around all 3 of the chain of lakes. We have a CB gathering which involves softball and utilizing a lot of the fast twitch muscle fibers. I mightily manage to pull/strain both hamstrings. I can barely move for 3 days. Mo makes an appointment to see a sports physician for her hip. Our taper week begins Memorial Day weekend, and we're both feeling less pain after long distances.
Which leads us to race day...Pip Pip.
Around the 10K mark there was an incline and I started shallow breathing so I slowed down and gave my self some deep yogi breaths. (This also marks the point where the faster half marathoners were already doubling back)
Mile 7/8...I started noticing the pings. After mile 8 I had to start 1 minute walks then 8 minute runs.
Mile 9- The hip. I also learned the hard way that the crappy glucose packs they give you taste like prune favored paste. I was like a dog eating peanut butter.
Mile 11.5 was when my Achilles tendons both started snapping. It was also here that I think I started hallucinating.
Mile 12.5- There's a marching band. I sally forth for a strong finish.
So that's crossed off the list. We're already planning on a pre-July 4th 10K around Lake Harriet (twice) with our PR's (ideally) under 60 minutes.
And now, a timeline:
Mid-February: After hearing stories from her buddy, Moda gets it into her mind to run (at least) a half marathon. I agree to train with her. We begin by increasing our run time on the treadmill from our (normal) 30 minutes to around 45.
March: I'm topping out at 5 miles. Moda is already shooting for PRs and gets up to 6, then 8. Getting off the treadmill is a daunting task. I manage my 1st outdoor run. On a long evening walk, we come up with the moniker of "Pam and Sam". We join "Mapmyrun.com"
April: 1st 6 mile outdoor run for us. (Isles and Calhoun) Our long runs are officially relegated to the weekend followed by a big brunch somewhere where we'll moan getting up and walking again. Another nice weekend brings us to our first long trail run (and last run before the 10K) around Hyland. Moda starts having hip flexor frass, my lower back gets twitchy two days later. We both invest in foam rollers.
4/24 we run our first race. 10K. In the rain. We feel like achey drowned rats afterwards.
May: After a week long break, we start again. All runs, indoor and (mostly) outdoor runs are mapped and never less than 5.75/6 miles. The training culminates in a 10+ mile hike around all 3 of the chain of lakes. We have a CB gathering which involves softball and utilizing a lot of the fast twitch muscle fibers. I mightily manage to pull/strain both hamstrings. I can barely move for 3 days. Mo makes an appointment to see a sports physician for her hip. Our taper week begins Memorial Day weekend, and we're both feeling less pain after long distances.
Which leads us to race day...Pip Pip.
Saturday, June 05, 2010
Time to run...
Whew.
Tomorrow is the big day. The Team Ortho Marathon. Typing this stuff out seems, I dunno, kinda silly. I mean, people don't gaze in awe when you tell them I'm not "running a marathon". I'm "Running a HALF marathon".
So to recap.
A little over 3 months ago my S.O. informs me that she wants to train for a half-marathon. I tell her I'd do it with her. We train. We do a 10K as a test. We're here.
I won't lie, I've been a little hesitant. Even going so far as to ponder whether I was gonna race at all. Mostly because while I'm impressed and supportive of my friends who've completed marathons in the past- It's never been something that has interested me. At all. And I was quite content with my 2-3 mile jogs to keep aerobicized. And then I thought "Fuck it. If Moda is gonna do it, I'll show my support". Yeah. Sovereignty.
And after our initial training the 10K ended up being ridiculously harder than expected, effing up my lower back and her hip, and the cause of countless foam roller appearances. And I started thinking...You know? It's all good and well on a runners forum, or in a book, magazine, etc. Everyone has advice. But my stupid anti-establishment nature hate being told what the fuck to do, especially when I don't actively seek the advice. It becomes evident that everyone who has ran a marathon has an opinion (And they're like superstitious pitchers. "I always rub a teaspoon of cayenne pepper on my bellybutton before a run" or "Eat a half a cup of Doritos with a shot of espresso"...UGH! ADVICE) on what's best... and my biggest things are "Okay. I know" and..."This hasn't prevented me from discovering a lot about this kind of training at age 35". For example:
-Fuck all.. I'm fatter and more out of shape than I was hoping to be. I knew 2 years ago when I needed to start investing in husky boy jeans that age was not my friend. When I started training, I vainly hoped that it'd start returning me to a more svelte physique. If anything, it depressed the shit out of me. Carbs are our friend? Yeah. They're sitting like two pretty after burners on my side exhaust ports. That rest uncomfortably over my jeans.
-I fucking hurt. All the time. As soon as the mileage started adding up during training I was discovering new levels of discomfort. I was happy enough that it wasn't the knee's, ankles, or hips but when my back jacked I was pissed. I noticed the pretty fluidity that martial arts training and stretching gave way to a more practical tension, even one you kind of start to enjoy. (Insert goofy "coiled spring" analogy) In fact, I proved my own point when I douche-ily played softball a few weeks back.
We'd just finished our outdoor PR (3 of the Lake Chains) and I was doing a quick survey and thought "no shit. A month ago I wouldn't have been able to walk to the car. Yeah, I'm sore. Yeah, we stopped a few times to stretch. But we made it, and in a pretty GD decent time. Moreover I don't feel like I'm gonna fall over. We win."
Then my stupid ass plays softball/kickball and strains...maybe pulls both of my hamstrings. The next day I could barely stand at work and realized that (A) I'm old and (B) The static to motion running/sprinting was different than the timed pacing I'd adopted. That Monday, I was chagrined at my condition...and as the lowest of lows I was chagrined that I was gonna have to consider not running. After 2 days of rest, I tried for a light lope around the nabe and I didn't get more than two blocks when pain shot so far through my hip I almost had to sit down on someones retaining wall. I made it a mile and a half, took two ibuprofen, and flipped off my body.
And then...I won't lie, after two days of walking around like I had a load in my pants I ended up saying "eff it" (again) and trying to walk normally. During our taper week, I managed to go 6+ miles (after two stretches and a walk up the high hill) on what will be part of our course tomorrow. And felt fine afterwards. And so I've lifted, tapered (ending in a little under 5 miles the other day) and last night met run buddies at Buca to carb up.
Because...well eff it. I will finish the race.
I'm weird. I know. I don't need a memo. But for all my griping, I want to finish. I will finish. Even if it's crawling on my elbows and knees. And for the first time in the last 3 months of training I've had nothing in my brain but "I'm going to do this and I will not stop until I've crossed the finish line". Mind, it's only been within the last 24 hours I've thought this. But I'm lazy. My winning internal montage music doesn't start until the last minute anyway. Conservation of energy and all.
In closing...for those readers still involved in my musings, my last minute strategies:
I've lifted weights super heavy this week. Super heavy. Even for me. Upper body only. (The lower body had some foam rolling and rehab work on my flexors, quads, and hammies...but tapered by Wednesday) Why? Well if my upper body is sore...I won't give a shit about sore legs. Ha HA! (Awaits naysayers complaints)
I trimmed my mane. Nothing makes you more aerodynamic than a new haircut. Grooming is a MUST for any serious runner. And I mean that in all aspects. You know what I'm sayin?
Everything is layed out. Including the epsom salts my mom gave me last week at the cabin for post-run soakings.
Carbed up 2 days in advanced. Ideally, this will make for a proper glucose and a longer lasting "burn".
My magically enhanced bandana is being washed.
I'm running this one for dad again. The way I see it, life is fuck-all short. And this is an experience I want to have. Like trying squid or hang gliding. Never done it/tried it? Well why the hell not?
Lastly..and this is doofy, but at the gym today some kid was wearing a t-shirt that had a mantra I plan on stealing and keeping:
Losers Complain
Winners Train
Well hell's yes.
I'll see you at the finish line, friends. Do me a favor and if you're up (or not puking) at 7am cop a squat on the race route and cheer on the runners. The one thing I'd never thought of in a million years is how awesome (and it is SERIOUSLY AWESOME) it is to have random people screaming "good job". So big brother? Sorry about not attending more cross-country meets.
(Idiot Edit...I post so infrequently that I can't always remember when I sound like a broken record. If anyone wants to catch up on my "April Jittery Run Rant" it's right here. Dumb ass me...http://happychristmasbaby.blogspot.com/2010/04/and-i-was-running.html)
Tomorrow is the big day. The Team Ortho Marathon. Typing this stuff out seems, I dunno, kinda silly. I mean, people don't gaze in awe when you tell them I'm not "running a marathon". I'm "Running a HALF marathon".
So to recap.
A little over 3 months ago my S.O. informs me that she wants to train for a half-marathon. I tell her I'd do it with her. We train. We do a 10K as a test. We're here.
I won't lie, I've been a little hesitant. Even going so far as to ponder whether I was gonna race at all. Mostly because while I'm impressed and supportive of my friends who've completed marathons in the past- It's never been something that has interested me. At all. And I was quite content with my 2-3 mile jogs to keep aerobicized. And then I thought "Fuck it. If Moda is gonna do it, I'll show my support". Yeah. Sovereignty.
And after our initial training the 10K ended up being ridiculously harder than expected, effing up my lower back and her hip, and the cause of countless foam roller appearances. And I started thinking...You know? It's all good and well on a runners forum, or in a book, magazine, etc. Everyone has advice. But my stupid anti-establishment nature hate being told what the fuck to do, especially when I don't actively seek the advice. It becomes evident that everyone who has ran a marathon has an opinion (And they're like superstitious pitchers. "I always rub a teaspoon of cayenne pepper on my bellybutton before a run" or "Eat a half a cup of Doritos with a shot of espresso"...UGH! ADVICE) on what's best... and my biggest things are "Okay. I know" and..."This hasn't prevented me from discovering a lot about this kind of training at age 35". For example:
-Fuck all.. I'm fatter and more out of shape than I was hoping to be. I knew 2 years ago when I needed to start investing in husky boy jeans that age was not my friend. When I started training, I vainly hoped that it'd start returning me to a more svelte physique. If anything, it depressed the shit out of me. Carbs are our friend? Yeah. They're sitting like two pretty after burners on my side exhaust ports. That rest uncomfortably over my jeans.
-I fucking hurt. All the time. As soon as the mileage started adding up during training I was discovering new levels of discomfort. I was happy enough that it wasn't the knee's, ankles, or hips but when my back jacked I was pissed. I noticed the pretty fluidity that martial arts training and stretching gave way to a more practical tension, even one you kind of start to enjoy. (Insert goofy "coiled spring" analogy) In fact, I proved my own point when I douche-ily played softball a few weeks back.
We'd just finished our outdoor PR (3 of the Lake Chains) and I was doing a quick survey and thought "no shit. A month ago I wouldn't have been able to walk to the car. Yeah, I'm sore. Yeah, we stopped a few times to stretch. But we made it, and in a pretty GD decent time. Moreover I don't feel like I'm gonna fall over. We win."
Then my stupid ass plays softball/kickball and strains...maybe pulls both of my hamstrings. The next day I could barely stand at work and realized that (A) I'm old and (B) The static to motion running/sprinting was different than the timed pacing I'd adopted. That Monday, I was chagrined at my condition...and as the lowest of lows I was chagrined that I was gonna have to consider not running. After 2 days of rest, I tried for a light lope around the nabe and I didn't get more than two blocks when pain shot so far through my hip I almost had to sit down on someones retaining wall. I made it a mile and a half, took two ibuprofen, and flipped off my body.
And then...I won't lie, after two days of walking around like I had a load in my pants I ended up saying "eff it" (again) and trying to walk normally. During our taper week, I managed to go 6+ miles (after two stretches and a walk up the high hill) on what will be part of our course tomorrow. And felt fine afterwards. And so I've lifted, tapered (ending in a little under 5 miles the other day) and last night met run buddies at Buca to carb up.
Because...well eff it. I will finish the race.
I'm weird. I know. I don't need a memo. But for all my griping, I want to finish. I will finish. Even if it's crawling on my elbows and knees. And for the first time in the last 3 months of training I've had nothing in my brain but "I'm going to do this and I will not stop until I've crossed the finish line". Mind, it's only been within the last 24 hours I've thought this. But I'm lazy. My winning internal montage music doesn't start until the last minute anyway. Conservation of energy and all.
In closing...for those readers still involved in my musings, my last minute strategies:
I've lifted weights super heavy this week. Super heavy. Even for me. Upper body only. (The lower body had some foam rolling and rehab work on my flexors, quads, and hammies...but tapered by Wednesday) Why? Well if my upper body is sore...I won't give a shit about sore legs. Ha HA! (Awaits naysayers complaints)
I trimmed my mane. Nothing makes you more aerodynamic than a new haircut. Grooming is a MUST for any serious runner. And I mean that in all aspects. You know what I'm sayin?
Everything is layed out. Including the epsom salts my mom gave me last week at the cabin for post-run soakings.
Carbed up 2 days in advanced. Ideally, this will make for a proper glucose and a longer lasting "burn".
My magically enhanced bandana is being washed.
I'm running this one for dad again. The way I see it, life is fuck-all short. And this is an experience I want to have. Like trying squid or hang gliding. Never done it/tried it? Well why the hell not?
Lastly..and this is doofy, but at the gym today some kid was wearing a t-shirt that had a mantra I plan on stealing and keeping:
Losers Complain
Winners Train
Well hell's yes.
I'll see you at the finish line, friends. Do me a favor and if you're up (or not puking) at 7am cop a squat on the race route and cheer on the runners. The one thing I'd never thought of in a million years is how awesome (and it is SERIOUSLY AWESOME) it is to have random people screaming "good job". So big brother? Sorry about not attending more cross-country meets.
(Idiot Edit...I post so infrequently that I can't always remember when I sound like a broken record. If anyone wants to catch up on my "April Jittery Run Rant" it's right here. Dumb ass me...http://happychristmasbaby.blogspot.com/2010/04/and-i-was-running.html)
Thursday, May 27, 2010
14 lessons to tell your 14 year old self...
This is a fun lil' header I stole from MD, and by proxy MO. (What is up with the transplanted M's, I tellya)
Moda told me a funny story about being 14 and hormonal which I'll refrain from sharing here (It's damn...damn funny), but aren't girls and boys little drama queens? All that frass, and hormones, and anger, and caution, and impressionable mind-age...I admired kids that could stay focused and on-course. Heck, to a much lesser extent I admired parents that not only worked their butts off but also worked to keep their kids focused. (To be fair, during one of my teenage arguments with my parents my mother pointed out the glaring fact that as much pain and suffering I believed I was going through "You got it pretty good, kiddo. Has your father or I ever made you do anything you didn't want to? Made you get a job?"
So with hindsight being what it is, meaning "sight from behind", I thought I'd give 14 year old "me" a few pernters to ease them through the insufferable time known as adolescence.
1) Lose the mullet. I know your big brother had one. I know that it's because you loooove "MacGuyver". And you play hockey. It's just...dumb.
2) Mikey sez chillax. You are so wound up, dude. Tighter than a snare drum. Look at you. I know that you started lifting weights at the Y to help your own weight (more on that in a sec) but do you have to start walking around like you have a stick up yer butt?
Remember last year? When you were thirteen? You were at the acme of your weirdness. You loved horror movies. You wore trenchcoats and fedoras without shame or irony. (Which would probably flag you for a psych screen nowadays) You amassed a pin collection. You stuffed your pockets with crap like switchblade combs and Circus game tokens and silly putty. (Like you were Doctor Who. ) Your walls were littered in comic books. You wore Hawaiian Shirts and hipster cartoon t-shirts... with jams. You weren't embarrassed by mom and dad. Hell, son. You were cool before hipsters were all doing that anyway. And isn't that what it's all about, really? Being cool by being you? What does this mean?
3) You aren't defined by your clothes. By next year, you'll have adopted this revolting habit of owning 4 pairs of Girbaud in different color schemes. (Blue, Dark Blue, Black, and...wait for it- White. Jesus, little me. You owned white jeans.) But if I'm catching you at the right time, you won't have had mom drop you off at the Brookdale Dayton's with your friends as you make your first purchase with your allowance money- An $80 pair of jeans. That are apparently all the rage because they have a little white strip on the dick area that says "Girbaud". At least "Guess" kept their logo on the ass so that people could be subtle when their gaze dropped to the not-so-indiscrete label.
County Seat Outlet in Crystal wasn't so bad, was it? Yeah, all the MG and Plymouth brats were wearing $65 Ralph Lauren polo shirts. $90 Air Jordans. $26 Nike T-shirts. So what. Here's a hint- Levis? Become cool again in like, 15 minutes. And they stay cool. (Granted, some of the cuts kind of suck) And you wind up a Gap/Thrift store whore anyway. Let the rabble worry about fashion. You wanna really freak kids out? Start wearing ties to school, man. Be that kid.
4) Eat better. If I'm not mistaken, the seedlings of dysmorphia started around now. It was doofy at first...you'd hug your 1 week/phone calls 'til 2am girlfriend and she'd tease you about your "love handles". Swim class was a nightmare because it seemed like all the other kids were skinny and you were the only one who looked like a stuffed sausage. So what did you do? You'd have an Carnation instant breakfast in the morning, a single serve carton of 2% milk for lunch, and then you'd wait until after 4pm so you could eat what? A box of pizza rolls? An entire Totino's pizza? It's cool that you stopped with the "3 Cheeseburgers and a Mt. Dew" at (insert fast food restaurant) but for fooks sake. You took home ec. You have been HOME EC'd! No one is asking you to cook dinners, but you need to eat better. Why?
You hit a growth spurt toward the end of 8th grade and shoot up about 3 inches or so. The baby fat goes away, coupled with your newfound liking of the free weight area of the gym.
5) Be nice to girls. Really nice. Like, act opposite of how your natural instinct to act b/c you're proving those nutty shrinks who like to say "when they're being 'mean', they really mean they like you" right. Remember 'Nettie? Probably didn't like being called "Dognette". And Koreney? She really liked you. She was pretty, and tall, and awkward and probably coulda done well with some kind words. And you were just flat-out training-bra snapping mean. Why you waited until you were 16 to start to develop your all-new old cheap moves is beyond me. Everybody appreciates compliments, even if they think they're bullshit.
6) Kiss Angie Weaver. Remember how mad she was when you were hanging out when you were 16 that you didn't do anything? It takes practice to get good, and that way you won't kiss like a guppy when you smooch Tracy next year at the Sadie Hawkins dance.
7) Like math more. I know you had "Schatzy the Nazi" who had the whole schtick when you'd ask if you can go to the bathroom "I don't know, can you?" and you patently hated him, but you can tune him out and check your answers instead of treating each assignment like it was a personal affront to your character. It will help you later. Why?
8) Start paying attention to your $, getting a savings/checking account, and start watching what and where you spend. You were 2 merit badges and a project away from getting your Eagle Scout. And guess what was one of those badges? That's right. "Personal Management." I'm not saying it set the pattern to how you lived your future years, but understanding budgeting/credit/savings at an early age would have probably helped you later in life. Oh. By the way? Not getting your Eagle Scout? Hmmm...
9) Finish what you started. Remember how you got huffy when RSvP was denied his Eagle project so you decided to say "Eff the Scouts" and stop going? What...I mean, what kind of excuse is that? C'mon, man. It'll bleed into later life. By setting the goals and finishing will leave you with a larger sense of accomplishment than false entitlement or indignation.
10) Get a job. Sooner. Like, summer work. F#ck it. Mow lawns. Adopt a work ethic early and increase your disposable income.
11) Quit football. Really, the social standing doesn't get impressive until High School and you have a shitty season your junior and senior year. Get into s#it that you'll enjoy. Karate. You've been pretending you know it anyway. Dancing. You covet the B-boys at school anyway with their sweet moves. Voice lessons...oh, that last one? Yeah, time to quit band as well. The girls are cuter, and you're a much better singer than percussionist anyway.
12) This is gonna be a hard one. Don't believe the hype. Your, uh, "best friend"? Learned to play the games before you did. And subsequently, b/c of his manipulations you got involved in some really stupid shit. You went with your gut on a few but your trusting nature kept you from keeping this guy at arms length. Because really? He was doing it b/c of his own girl issues.
Here's a rule of thumb. You know how mistrustful we can be. And I don't want to jade your optimism or make you think everyone has an angle/is out to dick you over. However in this case? They all are. See, a lot of these kids are learning about human conditioning and aren't going to mellow out on their own until they get to high school. Hell, some of them will probably wait until college. And beyond. And sadder still? The ones that don't leave it at all.
The high road is a good one to take. It gives you a birds eye view of the rabble. So keep smiling and optimistic, but not foolish. B/C some 14 year old dipshit or their toadie is going to try to see if they can "get you" to go to the drug store to buy condoms, then wait by the back of the school with your pants down b/c so and so wants to have the sex. Teens are mean f#ckers.
13) Take Spanish. Much more practical. German is all like "muck-muck-muck-muck".
14) Here's the 2nd toughest lesson and one I'll end on: Life isn't fair. At all. The minute you accept that and assert more control over your life, the better off you'll be. From this point on in your life to when you graduate from High School- from an academic stand point- you'll probably act like the rest of the yahoo's who pretend to hate school and can't wait to get out. Here's a hint- You actually have fun if you want to. The guys who were dicks end up being pretty nice to you because of the other things you're good at. Like making them laugh. And not in a "mean" way that they're used to. You do it with your brain. Have fun because you can. Be nice because you can. Life is short, man. You don't know everything there is to know and that's why you're in school. Shit, you won't know jack until you are farrrrr out of college. So better prepare now.
Oh, and when Brian invites you to that party over the summer. Say "no". Bad, bad, all bad. Let that dude get into trouble on his own.
Moda told me a funny story about being 14 and hormonal which I'll refrain from sharing here (It's damn...damn funny), but aren't girls and boys little drama queens? All that frass, and hormones, and anger, and caution, and impressionable mind-age...I admired kids that could stay focused and on-course. Heck, to a much lesser extent I admired parents that not only worked their butts off but also worked to keep their kids focused. (To be fair, during one of my teenage arguments with my parents my mother pointed out the glaring fact that as much pain and suffering I believed I was going through "You got it pretty good, kiddo. Has your father or I ever made you do anything you didn't want to? Made you get a job?"
So with hindsight being what it is, meaning "sight from behind", I thought I'd give 14 year old "me" a few pernters to ease them through the insufferable time known as adolescence.
1) Lose the mullet. I know your big brother had one. I know that it's because you loooove "MacGuyver". And you play hockey. It's just...dumb.
2) Mikey sez chillax. You are so wound up, dude. Tighter than a snare drum. Look at you. I know that you started lifting weights at the Y to help your own weight (more on that in a sec) but do you have to start walking around like you have a stick up yer butt?
Remember last year? When you were thirteen? You were at the acme of your weirdness. You loved horror movies. You wore trenchcoats and fedoras without shame or irony. (Which would probably flag you for a psych screen nowadays) You amassed a pin collection. You stuffed your pockets with crap like switchblade combs and Circus game tokens and silly putty. (Like you were Doctor Who. ) Your walls were littered in comic books. You wore Hawaiian Shirts and hipster cartoon t-shirts... with jams. You weren't embarrassed by mom and dad. Hell, son. You were cool before hipsters were all doing that anyway. And isn't that what it's all about, really? Being cool by being you? What does this mean?
3) You aren't defined by your clothes. By next year, you'll have adopted this revolting habit of owning 4 pairs of Girbaud in different color schemes. (Blue, Dark Blue, Black, and...wait for it- White. Jesus, little me. You owned white jeans.) But if I'm catching you at the right time, you won't have had mom drop you off at the Brookdale Dayton's with your friends as you make your first purchase with your allowance money- An $80 pair of jeans. That are apparently all the rage because they have a little white strip on the dick area that says "Girbaud". At least "Guess" kept their logo on the ass so that people could be subtle when their gaze dropped to the not-so-indiscrete label.
County Seat Outlet in Crystal wasn't so bad, was it? Yeah, all the MG and Plymouth brats were wearing $65 Ralph Lauren polo shirts. $90 Air Jordans. $26 Nike T-shirts. So what. Here's a hint- Levis? Become cool again in like, 15 minutes. And they stay cool. (Granted, some of the cuts kind of suck) And you wind up a Gap/Thrift store whore anyway. Let the rabble worry about fashion. You wanna really freak kids out? Start wearing ties to school, man. Be that kid.
4) Eat better. If I'm not mistaken, the seedlings of dysmorphia started around now. It was doofy at first...you'd hug your 1 week/phone calls 'til 2am girlfriend and she'd tease you about your "love handles". Swim class was a nightmare because it seemed like all the other kids were skinny and you were the only one who looked like a stuffed sausage. So what did you do? You'd have an Carnation instant breakfast in the morning, a single serve carton of 2% milk for lunch, and then you'd wait until after 4pm so you could eat what? A box of pizza rolls? An entire Totino's pizza? It's cool that you stopped with the "3 Cheeseburgers and a Mt. Dew" at (insert fast food restaurant) but for fooks sake. You took home ec. You have been HOME EC'd! No one is asking you to cook dinners, but you need to eat better. Why?
You hit a growth spurt toward the end of 8th grade and shoot up about 3 inches or so. The baby fat goes away, coupled with your newfound liking of the free weight area of the gym.
5) Be nice to girls. Really nice. Like, act opposite of how your natural instinct to act b/c you're proving those nutty shrinks who like to say "when they're being 'mean', they really mean they like you" right. Remember 'Nettie? Probably didn't like being called "Dognette". And Koreney? She really liked you. She was pretty, and tall, and awkward and probably coulda done well with some kind words. And you were just flat-out training-bra snapping mean. Why you waited until you were 16 to start to develop your all-new old cheap moves is beyond me. Everybody appreciates compliments, even if they think they're bullshit.
6) Kiss Angie Weaver. Remember how mad she was when you were hanging out when you were 16 that you didn't do anything? It takes practice to get good, and that way you won't kiss like a guppy when you smooch Tracy next year at the Sadie Hawkins dance.
7) Like math more. I know you had "Schatzy the Nazi" who had the whole schtick when you'd ask if you can go to the bathroom "I don't know, can you?" and you patently hated him, but you can tune him out and check your answers instead of treating each assignment like it was a personal affront to your character. It will help you later. Why?
8) Start paying attention to your $, getting a savings/checking account, and start watching what and where you spend. You were 2 merit badges and a project away from getting your Eagle Scout. And guess what was one of those badges? That's right. "Personal Management." I'm not saying it set the pattern to how you lived your future years, but understanding budgeting/credit/savings at an early age would have probably helped you later in life. Oh. By the way? Not getting your Eagle Scout? Hmmm...
9) Finish what you started. Remember how you got huffy when RSvP was denied his Eagle project so you decided to say "Eff the Scouts" and stop going? What...I mean, what kind of excuse is that? C'mon, man. It'll bleed into later life. By setting the goals and finishing will leave you with a larger sense of accomplishment than false entitlement or indignation.
10) Get a job. Sooner. Like, summer work. F#ck it. Mow lawns. Adopt a work ethic early and increase your disposable income.
11) Quit football. Really, the social standing doesn't get impressive until High School and you have a shitty season your junior and senior year. Get into s#it that you'll enjoy. Karate. You've been pretending you know it anyway. Dancing. You covet the B-boys at school anyway with their sweet moves. Voice lessons...oh, that last one? Yeah, time to quit band as well. The girls are cuter, and you're a much better singer than percussionist anyway.
12) This is gonna be a hard one. Don't believe the hype. Your, uh, "best friend"? Learned to play the games before you did. And subsequently, b/c of his manipulations you got involved in some really stupid shit. You went with your gut on a few but your trusting nature kept you from keeping this guy at arms length. Because really? He was doing it b/c of his own girl issues.
Here's a rule of thumb. You know how mistrustful we can be. And I don't want to jade your optimism or make you think everyone has an angle/is out to dick you over. However in this case? They all are. See, a lot of these kids are learning about human conditioning and aren't going to mellow out on their own until they get to high school. Hell, some of them will probably wait until college. And beyond. And sadder still? The ones that don't leave it at all.
The high road is a good one to take. It gives you a birds eye view of the rabble. So keep smiling and optimistic, but not foolish. B/C some 14 year old dipshit or their toadie is going to try to see if they can "get you" to go to the drug store to buy condoms, then wait by the back of the school with your pants down b/c so and so wants to have the sex. Teens are mean f#ckers.
13) Take Spanish. Much more practical. German is all like "muck-muck-muck-muck".
14) Here's the 2nd toughest lesson and one I'll end on: Life isn't fair. At all. The minute you accept that and assert more control over your life, the better off you'll be. From this point on in your life to when you graduate from High School- from an academic stand point- you'll probably act like the rest of the yahoo's who pretend to hate school and can't wait to get out. Here's a hint- You actually have fun if you want to. The guys who were dicks end up being pretty nice to you because of the other things you're good at. Like making them laugh. And not in a "mean" way that they're used to. You do it with your brain. Have fun because you can. Be nice because you can. Life is short, man. You don't know everything there is to know and that's why you're in school. Shit, you won't know jack until you are farrrrr out of college. So better prepare now.
Oh, and when Brian invites you to that party over the summer. Say "no". Bad, bad, all bad. Let that dude get into trouble on his own.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
More merry mom-ment...
Our final story takes place in 2002, when I grew past my childhood embarrassment and had mom accompany me to London. (After embarrassing her on the flight by taking a sleeping aid, having a cocktail, passing out, and being the drooling bane of our flight attendants existince. My finest hour...or 7)
We were pokey on the day we were to head to the bus station for our Stonehenge tour and upon exiting the tube station we made haste. (As much as a woman walking with a cane can make haste. Oh, note to traveler's? You would not beLIEVE the lines we were able to skip due to my travelling with an infirm little old lady w/cane. I should be a frakkin' travel guide. Like, okay...when you get to Disneyworld the FIRST thing you should do is rent a motorized scooter even if you're in the peak of health. Coming up with a backstory will help. And a lightweight blanket to cover your "withered" legs...yeah. Tips. SUCK IT, Rick Steves!)
As we were getting ready to cross the street I managed to look left, then right to check for traffic- a tip I learned from the book "Patriot Games" (Thank you Tom Clancy. Those wacky Brits drive like they're in an MC Escher painting for pities sake! On the WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD no less. Probably hopped up on tea or something) Unfortunately, mom had not read that particular thriller and looked right first before taking a HUGE step out into the street...and riiiiight in front of the double-decker bus that I had just seen barrelling down on her.
I muttered a quick "ohshit!" before grabbing her collar quick like a bun-bun and yerking her back onto the sidewalk. The following quick exchange took place as I nearly passed out from my heart beating so fast.
Mom- "Whoa...did you see that?"
Me- "I DID! I KNOW! I SAW THAT!" (Shouting is a by-product of a nervous condition in yours truly)
Mom- "I was nearly hit!" (She was pretty excited at this point. Which ticked me off more. Which is why I responded thusly)
Moi- "Do you have any IDEA how MUCH it costs to ship a body BACK to the US?"
We love her.
Thanks, mom. For rides to sporting events, taking me to my first play, and for never calling my GI Joes "Dolls". xo
We were pokey on the day we were to head to the bus station for our Stonehenge tour and upon exiting the tube station we made haste. (As much as a woman walking with a cane can make haste. Oh, note to traveler's? You would not beLIEVE the lines we were able to skip due to my travelling with an infirm little old lady w/cane. I should be a frakkin' travel guide. Like, okay...when you get to Disneyworld the FIRST thing you should do is rent a motorized scooter even if you're in the peak of health. Coming up with a backstory will help. And a lightweight blanket to cover your "withered" legs...yeah. Tips. SUCK IT, Rick Steves!)
As we were getting ready to cross the street I managed to look left, then right to check for traffic- a tip I learned from the book "Patriot Games" (Thank you Tom Clancy. Those wacky Brits drive like they're in an MC Escher painting for pities sake! On the WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD no less. Probably hopped up on tea or something) Unfortunately, mom had not read that particular thriller and looked right first before taking a HUGE step out into the street...and riiiiight in front of the double-decker bus that I had just seen barrelling down on her.
I muttered a quick "ohshit!" before grabbing her collar quick like a bun-bun and yerking her back onto the sidewalk. The following quick exchange took place as I nearly passed out from my heart beating so fast.
Mom- "Whoa...did you see that?"
Me- "I DID! I KNOW! I SAW THAT!" (Shouting is a by-product of a nervous condition in yours truly)
Mom- "I was nearly hit!" (She was pretty excited at this point. Which ticked me off more. Which is why I responded thusly)
Moi- "Do you have any IDEA how MUCH it costs to ship a body BACK to the US?"
We love her.
Thanks, mom. For rides to sporting events, taking me to my first play, and for never calling my GI Joes "Dolls". xo
Returning to yer mom jokes..
Sue me. I've been hyper busy here at work, I had to finish up Improv classes, AND trying to get ready for Summer at home- all while trying to train for that skeery half-marathon in June. Busy Bobby, I am.
I meant to post a Mother's Day blog, and seeing how it's now two weeks late I feel like I finally have time to scribble about it. As I said to my mother at the Bonfire Grill back on the 9th, improv was fun but I'd like to try my hand at sketch comedy writing. Her classic mom-inator response: "Well...it's usually pretty funny and good. When you aren't writing about working out or food."
Bah-dum, ching.
So before I finish my white chicken chili and think about how much time I'll have at the gym before Moda shows up- An ode to my mom. Starring sweet honesty, and a hysterical historical story.
Dear mom-
When I was in the 6th grade learning percussion, we were required to practice our drumming/xylophoning for one hour a night. As there were very important things in the world (namely, cartoons and Voltron) I felt my time may have been better spent focusing on those pursuits rather than training to be the next Tommy Lee. (Good thinking, 12 year old me. According to my best friend the bassist, if you're in a band the only person to get more tail behind the lead singer and lead guitarist is the drummer. Bassists, he said, usually fall behind back-up singers and the tambourine player. And the lead singers girlfriend)
Anyway, I became quite adept at signing "PP" in your distinctive font. And I was still first chair by 9th grade. You're welcome, and I'm sorry. PS- It was around 8th grade when I was grouchy and hormonal when I realized I had made a HUGE error in judgement and should have joined choir, as all the girls I journaled about and had love pangs for were in show choir. I forgive you.
Mom doesn't touch the sauce, and she hasn't for at least my lifetime. That said, it didn't mean we didn't have liquor at our home. See, they were quite the entertainers back in the day. And one of the nifty things in the old BP home was the wet bar in the basement. (Where I'd play "Cocktail" using empty 2 liters of Mello Yello. I wouldn't play Tom Cruise, but Bryan Brown's self-destructive friend "Doug". A much deeper character IMHO) Anyway, the dusty and dehydrated bottles of gin weren't much interest to me when I was growing up...but when I turned 16 they were of GREAT interest to my friends.
After some hard peer pressure (read: Probably calling me "gay" or some such affrontery) I relented and let them root around behind the bar. They bitched about how all of the bottles were empty or "gross", but got all a flutter when they found a full one...wait for it- Creme de Menth. Unable to remove a cap that had long since fused with the bottle, they gave it to me to open, ripping open my callouses in the process. Cleverly adding this awful green liquer to their Sprite they tittered at their ingeniousness before they headed to First Ave to see Trip Shakespeare perform. (We were always finding clever ways to mask our adolescent tomfoolery. Hiding beer in the "Ale" jug from "Brigadoon" when we were at Ren Fest. In empty weed N feed spray bottles. Sometimes an old shoe. It varied)
Anyway, the next day they looked miserable. When I asked what was wrong with it, apparently they were unaware that it would turn their stool bright green and sort of freaked out about their radioactive poop. So...I'm sorry for contributing, but it made for hilarious 16 year old comedy.
There. I feel much better. And now, two stories to cleanse the palate and help you understand the depths of parental embarrassment/frustration. And it can run pretty deep. (Sorry mom. These are too good to pass up)
When I was in 11th grade, Mom helped out a lot backstage during shows. So much so, that everyone started calling her "mom". One day as she was pulling up after rehearsal one afternoon, my three closest friends and I were heading home and as I hopped in the Voyager they started chatting her up. It was at this point, and please don't ask me why, that she (ahem) decided to give them an impromptu speech on the birds and the bee's in addition to the importance of contraception, dovetailing nicely in to her opinion on male performance...all while I sat trying to simultaneously cover my eyes and plug my ears. (To be fair, I had already had "the talk" and been getting condoms for Christmas since I was 15. So for that, I'm grateful since it helped me avoid any early embarrassing trips to Walgreens where I was on a first name basis with the cashiers)
Anyway, my friends just looooved saying "So that's all sex is, huh? 'Poke Poke Poke' and then you're done, huh? She's right, man. There's absolutely no pleasure for a woman when that's all sex is..." Actually one of them still does. (Grumps silently at aforementioned bassist)
Part two to come later or tomorrow...
I meant to post a Mother's Day blog, and seeing how it's now two weeks late I feel like I finally have time to scribble about it. As I said to my mother at the Bonfire Grill back on the 9th, improv was fun but I'd like to try my hand at sketch comedy writing. Her classic mom-inator response: "Well...it's usually pretty funny and good. When you aren't writing about working out or food."
Bah-dum, ching.
So before I finish my white chicken chili and think about how much time I'll have at the gym before Moda shows up- An ode to my mom. Starring sweet honesty, and a hysterical historical story.
Dear mom-
When I was in the 6th grade learning percussion, we were required to practice our drumming/xylophoning for one hour a night. As there were very important things in the world (namely, cartoons and Voltron) I felt my time may have been better spent focusing on those pursuits rather than training to be the next Tommy Lee. (Good thinking, 12 year old me. According to my best friend the bassist, if you're in a band the only person to get more tail behind the lead singer and lead guitarist is the drummer. Bassists, he said, usually fall behind back-up singers and the tambourine player. And the lead singers girlfriend)
Anyway, I became quite adept at signing "PP" in your distinctive font. And I was still first chair by 9th grade. You're welcome, and I'm sorry. PS- It was around 8th grade when I was grouchy and hormonal when I realized I had made a HUGE error in judgement and should have joined choir, as all the girls I journaled about and had love pangs for were in show choir. I forgive you.
Mom doesn't touch the sauce, and she hasn't for at least my lifetime. That said, it didn't mean we didn't have liquor at our home. See, they were quite the entertainers back in the day. And one of the nifty things in the old BP home was the wet bar in the basement. (Where I'd play "Cocktail" using empty 2 liters of Mello Yello. I wouldn't play Tom Cruise, but Bryan Brown's self-destructive friend "Doug". A much deeper character IMHO) Anyway, the dusty and dehydrated bottles of gin weren't much interest to me when I was growing up...but when I turned 16 they were of GREAT interest to my friends.
After some hard peer pressure (read: Probably calling me "gay" or some such affrontery) I relented and let them root around behind the bar. They bitched about how all of the bottles were empty or "gross", but got all a flutter when they found a full one...wait for it- Creme de Menth. Unable to remove a cap that had long since fused with the bottle, they gave it to me to open, ripping open my callouses in the process. Cleverly adding this awful green liquer to their Sprite they tittered at their ingeniousness before they headed to First Ave to see Trip Shakespeare perform. (We were always finding clever ways to mask our adolescent tomfoolery. Hiding beer in the "Ale" jug from "Brigadoon" when we were at Ren Fest. In empty weed N feed spray bottles. Sometimes an old shoe. It varied)
Anyway, the next day they looked miserable. When I asked what was wrong with it, apparently they were unaware that it would turn their stool bright green and sort of freaked out about their radioactive poop. So...I'm sorry for contributing, but it made for hilarious 16 year old comedy.
There. I feel much better. And now, two stories to cleanse the palate and help you understand the depths of parental embarrassment/frustration. And it can run pretty deep. (Sorry mom. These are too good to pass up)
When I was in 11th grade, Mom helped out a lot backstage during shows. So much so, that everyone started calling her "mom". One day as she was pulling up after rehearsal one afternoon, my three closest friends and I were heading home and as I hopped in the Voyager they started chatting her up. It was at this point, and please don't ask me why, that she (ahem) decided to give them an impromptu speech on the birds and the bee's in addition to the importance of contraception, dovetailing nicely in to her opinion on male performance...all while I sat trying to simultaneously cover my eyes and plug my ears. (To be fair, I had already had "the talk" and been getting condoms for Christmas since I was 15. So for that, I'm grateful since it helped me avoid any early embarrassing trips to Walgreens where I was on a first name basis with the cashiers)
Anyway, my friends just looooved saying "So that's all sex is, huh? 'Poke Poke Poke' and then you're done, huh? She's right, man. There's absolutely no pleasure for a woman when that's all sex is..." Actually one of them still does. (Grumps silently at aforementioned bassist)
Part two to come later or tomorrow...
Monday, May 03, 2010
Lazy Monday
Nothing new here, kids. Carry on. I worked. Came home to hit the gym and do PWYC night but failed. They run two more weekends so I'll pay full price. I love them. I'll miss them (even though I never had the chance to work for them except one missed opportunity in 2003) and that is that.
Subway breakfast sammy review is on the Hippo site (http://hungryhippopotami.wordpress.com/2010/05/03/enter-the-subway-breakfast/) Check it out.
Back hurts. "House Bunny" must be finished. More laundry is to be folded. And another week of OT must be prepared for. Bills need paid. And my last class tomorrow. Huzzah.
05/03/2010 Bachelor Meals
Breakfast- Bacon/Egg/Cheese English muffin from the cafe. Shut up. I wanted comfort food and had originally anticipate running it off. Who could have told me the day would have kicked my ass and my body was sore. Odin, that's who.
2nd breakfast- Banana and fat free cherry Yoplait.
Lunch- Chicken/Spinach/Artichoke calzone. Again, it could have been soup or a spinach salad but they rolled out the special today and it would not be denied. Diet starts tomorrow, right? And it was better than the first attempt I had a few months ago that tasted of calzone death. At least they stopped calling it a "pizzarito".
Dinner- Grilled turkey burger. The spares go in lunch for tomorrow. I had these in the deep freeze and knew Moda would never want them so I thawed them overnight, seasoned them, and cooked the four patties on the grill. My most ambitious bachelor dinner to date. I may even try the sun-dried tomato risotto one of these nights.
<---Mildly healthy Henrietta.
Subway breakfast sammy review is on the Hippo site (http://hungryhippopotami.wordpress.com/2010/05/03/enter-the-subway-breakfast/) Check it out.
Back hurts. "House Bunny" must be finished. More laundry is to be folded. And another week of OT must be prepared for. Bills need paid. And my last class tomorrow. Huzzah.
05/03/2010 Bachelor Meals
Breakfast- Bacon/Egg/Cheese English muffin from the cafe. Shut up. I wanted comfort food and had originally anticipate running it off. Who could have told me the day would have kicked my ass and my body was sore. Odin, that's who.
2nd breakfast- Banana and fat free cherry Yoplait.
Lunch- Chicken/Spinach/Artichoke calzone. Again, it could have been soup or a spinach salad but they rolled out the special today and it would not be denied. Diet starts tomorrow, right? And it was better than the first attempt I had a few months ago that tasted of calzone death. At least they stopped calling it a "pizzarito".
Dinner- Grilled turkey burger. The spares go in lunch for tomorrow. I had these in the deep freeze and knew Moda would never want them so I thawed them overnight, seasoned them, and cooked the four patties on the grill. My most ambitious bachelor dinner to date. I may even try the sun-dried tomato risotto one of these nights.
<---Mildly healthy Henrietta.
Sunday, May 02, 2010
Waste of Sabbath Space
I made good on my promise to myself that I'd get up and start today with (kind of) a bang. I managed to get to Subway (first and foremost) for one of their breakfast sammies. (Review on the hippo site forthcoming.) Sufficed to say, I was a little under the whelmed. For future reference I'll be putting together my own, thanks.
Okay, so I did make it to BP for part of my list. I cruised up to Hwy 81 and traveled North to Brooklyn Blvd before heading back East. Lots, and I mean lots have changed. Village North is now becoming apartments and it looks like a new development is being created on the corner of Zane and BB. White Castle, Walgreens, and the DQ are still there. Most of the churches. And the Hardee's come Italian fast food in the mall-ish area by Rainbow is now an Arbys, go fig.
Godfathers, Rocky Rococco, and Blondies? All alive. Blondies patio was hoppin. Even at 10:30am. (How Godfathers has made it is beyond me. Really. Most metro stores have gone belly up by now) I popped in to Mound Cemetery to pay some respects. Lamby is still there, albeit it looks more like a gray Twinkie as opposed to the lamb I remembered as a kid. Funny. I never knew the name of the kid...funnier still, I can't find that random tombstone I ran into that was a 7th grade classmate of mine. I swear I've looked every time I've been there for the last 15 years since I've seen it. And it's not there. I'm beginning to think I imagined it.
Anyway, I took pics of my schools...the old home. I drove past the old...old home, but there were a few people in the driveway and it'd have felt creepy. As it was they were checking me out as I circled past.
All told, my trip took around 90 minutes plus a gas up at the Holiday. I was mildly insomniatic the night before so I plunked down for some nappage after getting home and investing in lunch. (A fat-free bean burrito. Shup) I woke up with every intention of grilling and hitting the gym, but the Bean was outside using my new toy (the Weed Hound. No more popping up dandelions on our hands and knees!) So I decided to do some manual labor in the form of fixing the outdoor brick work and laying some more weed barrier. I engaged in some weed whacking until a piece flung off and hit my eyeball. Fun. I'll let you know if I can open it tomorrow. Go-Go Gadget No-Insurance!
My spirit failed and dinner ended up being Chinese. I couldn't muster the strength for much else. Theatre night #2 fail. Hey...at least I made it to TRP last night.
Not too much exciting, pampers. Laundry is in. My bed is made, the mattress flipped and rotated, and the bolts tightened so hopefully there will be less squeaking. (Shut it)
(Sighs)...let's see what the regimented week brings...
Okay, so I did make it to BP for part of my list. I cruised up to Hwy 81 and traveled North to Brooklyn Blvd before heading back East. Lots, and I mean lots have changed. Village North is now becoming apartments and it looks like a new development is being created on the corner of Zane and BB. White Castle, Walgreens, and the DQ are still there. Most of the churches. And the Hardee's come Italian fast food in the mall-ish area by Rainbow is now an Arbys, go fig.
Godfathers, Rocky Rococco, and Blondies? All alive. Blondies patio was hoppin. Even at 10:30am. (How Godfathers has made it is beyond me. Really. Most metro stores have gone belly up by now) I popped in to Mound Cemetery to pay some respects. Lamby is still there, albeit it looks more like a gray Twinkie as opposed to the lamb I remembered as a kid. Funny. I never knew the name of the kid...funnier still, I can't find that random tombstone I ran into that was a 7th grade classmate of mine. I swear I've looked every time I've been there for the last 15 years since I've seen it. And it's not there. I'm beginning to think I imagined it.
Anyway, I took pics of my schools...the old home. I drove past the old...old home, but there were a few people in the driveway and it'd have felt creepy. As it was they were checking me out as I circled past.
All told, my trip took around 90 minutes plus a gas up at the Holiday. I was mildly insomniatic the night before so I plunked down for some nappage after getting home and investing in lunch. (A fat-free bean burrito. Shup) I woke up with every intention of grilling and hitting the gym, but the Bean was outside using my new toy (the Weed Hound. No more popping up dandelions on our hands and knees!) So I decided to do some manual labor in the form of fixing the outdoor brick work and laying some more weed barrier. I engaged in some weed whacking until a piece flung off and hit my eyeball. Fun. I'll let you know if I can open it tomorrow. Go-Go Gadget No-Insurance!
My spirit failed and dinner ended up being Chinese. I couldn't muster the strength for much else. Theatre night #2 fail. Hey...at least I made it to TRP last night.
Not too much exciting, pampers. Laundry is in. My bed is made, the mattress flipped and rotated, and the bolts tightened so hopefully there will be less squeaking. (Shut it)
(Sighs)...let's see what the regimented week brings...
Saturday, May 01, 2010
Bacherlordom, Day 1. Here's the plan.
Okay so I'm left to my own devices. Yeah. What? Moda is on her big annual road trip w/DBs and they're heading out to the Maine-vein! (Staying w/CRT at the summer camp that they run. Climbing towers. Mountain Bikes. Hiking trails. I'm hoping this isn't like the summer camp memories I have from movies like "Meatballs" or "Wet Hot American Summer" but since it's way into pre-season I'm more worried about frostbite or rain-soaked campfires as opposed to the rival campers from across the lake vying for their affections)
That being said...wow. I finally get her back for a protracted period of time after her theatre marathon and I'm here at home. Soooo I figured I'd regale you with tales on how a monoganimal boy takes care of himself. (Sorry that I can regale you with Don Draper-ian exploits for those who like living vicariously. I just don't/can't play that game. What I do promise is that-hopefully- it won't be lame posts like..."Stayed in and watched 'Rapid Fire' again. It was okay. Tomorrow I'll be making gin and tonics...with ORANGE JUICE and watching 'Strange Brew'. I mean...I don't get the traffic on this site I used to so I hope I don't scare any more faithful readers off. Apparently all 3 of you.)
So I'll give you all the heads up and try to keep these short-ish. You've been warned. I don't eat well when another person doesn't cook for me.
We had our low-key send off last night with Moda making some delicious pad-Thai and then watched "Mad Men" (yay) and "Time Traveler's Weef" (Skip. Or apparently I have no soul) and I slept my first bachelor night in a year.
I'm doing OT at the office, and after we had a delicious catered "employee appreciation" from Holy Land Deli (I ended up explaining to people who were concerned about the falafel balls that it was really kind of like "Middle Eastern Hush Puppies") I was excited at the prospect of the amount of leftovers we had. To the tune of 8-9 pans of spiced grilled chicken, lamb, rice, and hummus. (Did I bring tupperware to work today? You know damn right I did.)
Anticipating a Middle-Eastern breakfast, I came in early armed with the knowledge that at least my gastro-intestinal needs would be met. Not so much. Housecleaning emptied the employee fridge. 8-10 pans of perfectly good food? Tossed. Baby P? Heartbrok...Pissed the righteous f#ck off.
So I worked and hit the 'Bow for some goodies. Breakfast ended up being-
1) A Clif Peanut Butter Chocolate Bar and
2) An on-sale bag of fake Lobster Meat
Clearly, bachelordom spreads fast than Ebola.
I hit the gym for some rehab (Finally. A proper leg/shoulder/arm and back rehab workout on the extension machine and foam roller. After a lengthy sauna and a hot hot hot shower I could touch my toes! I felt like an ambulatory human again, even for a little while.)
I managed a HD trip for some more cedar mulch (HEY! 5 bags for $10!!! Only until tomorrow!) and some potting soil and managed to get home to plant my potted pansies. (And why with the "Pansy"? They're hearty. Thrive in sun and shade. Why not "Kick-Ass McGoo's!"?) Well. My deck looks a little nicer.
Dinner is an egg white omelet with asparagus, soy cheese, marinated tofu, and spinach*. Basically what I have in the fridge with the hope that I can get through my Egg Beaters before they expire. I'd do it for breakfast tomorrow, but that defeats my weekly bachelor goals. WHICH ARE!
1- See some theatre. Moda and I were frassin' that there were a bunch of shows we wanted to see so I figured I'd try to make sure my actor-card was punched and do my part to support local theatre. I know tonight I'm gonna try and see "Relatively Speaking" at TRP. My buddies A and D are in it and Moda already caught a preview so I hope that I can make it. Otherwise I know I'm gonna see "Our Country's...okay" (Starting Gate's last show. Sniff) on Monday for PWYC and tomorrow? Well, we'll see. It'll be either "Queens of Burley-Q" at the History or I wait for the evening to see if the BNI has any shows a-playin. The rest of the week? Who knows.
2-I'm going to get a breakfast sandwich tomorrow morning at Subway if it kills me. I have no time or patience to try and do it during the week (I make my own work breakfast, folks) and even though I could cobble the accotrements together to make the same thing at home, I'd like to see what the fuss is over their "egg-white on an english muffin prepared by a sandwich artist" Breakfast sammy is like. Don't judge me, monkeys.
3- I've taken the week off post-race and I'm going to start race training again tomorrow. maybe 4.5 or 5 miles. Who knows. I may try and actively scamper out to BC to hit USA for some karate style action. I'm rusty. My back has been so f#cked up that even trying a front kick makes my knee buckle. Who knows. Could be fun. Could be damaging.
4-Drive out to BP. Dad was apprehensive when I mentioned my desire to flit through my hometown, but the closing of Brookdale has got me kind of nostaligic. Not a very progressive feeling, sure, but that's part of my make-up. Drop a carnation off at Eric's grave and say "hi" to the lamb. Traipse up Brooklyn Blvd. Stop at "Rocky's" or "Blondie's" for a slice or a salad. I dunno. Maybe I'll call the Gay Burrito and see if he's game. Leave an old man to his memories, for pities sake.
5- Finish class. My BNI classes (officially) end on Tuesday with our "performance" slated for Saturday. Anyone want to watch free student Improv, traipse down to the BNW. I won't give out the time unless you're serious. One of my classmates is s#itting kittens. Be nice.
6- See a flick on my own. "Nightmare" just opened and I have a jones to see either "Kick-Ass" or "The Losers". Which will I pick? I don't know.
There it is. Sorry I won't have exciting stories to post regaling you about my afternoon at BJ's for "Nickel Lap Dances from 3-6pm but I hope that my telling you what I eat/imbibe (Ooo...does this Chianti pair nicely with my microwaved Boca Burger? Should I do the fat-free Bean Burrito with Guiness or an ale?) will bring you amusement while I'm imposing a sort of house arrest.
For your amusement.
*Feel free to add sliced garlic and diced green onion/tomato if you're ambitious.
Heat small skillet to medium and spray with Pam. Add tofu, then cut up asparagus...wait a minute...garlic (DON'T LET IT BURN!) then spinach (and tomato) last. Simultaneously, spray a larger pan and let it heat up while this nonsense is happening. Once you've gotten around to seeing if the spinach is wilting a little, the large pan (on medium-medium high) should be hot enough. Add the egg-white Egg Beater (Or regular) to the pan until it starts to set. (Move the pan around the burner if it doesn't heat evenly) Once set, add the cheese, then add the veggie mix to one end of the omelet. Check the corners with your turner then flip and press the top. Turn the entire thing (try not to brown it) and transfer to plate. Add pepper, salt, or hot sauce to taste.
That being said...wow. I finally get her back for a protracted period of time after her theatre marathon and I'm here at home. Soooo I figured I'd regale you with tales on how a monoganimal boy takes care of himself. (Sorry that I can regale you with Don Draper-ian exploits for those who like living vicariously. I just don't/can't play that game. What I do promise is that-hopefully- it won't be lame posts like..."Stayed in and watched 'Rapid Fire' again. It was okay. Tomorrow I'll be making gin and tonics...with ORANGE JUICE and watching 'Strange Brew'. I mean...I don't get the traffic on this site I used to so I hope I don't scare any more faithful readers off. Apparently all 3 of you.)
So I'll give you all the heads up and try to keep these short-ish. You've been warned. I don't eat well when another person doesn't cook for me.
We had our low-key send off last night with Moda making some delicious pad-Thai and then watched "Mad Men" (yay) and "Time Traveler's Weef" (Skip. Or apparently I have no soul) and I slept my first bachelor night in a year.
I'm doing OT at the office, and after we had a delicious catered "employee appreciation" from Holy Land Deli (I ended up explaining to people who were concerned about the falafel balls that it was really kind of like "Middle Eastern Hush Puppies") I was excited at the prospect of the amount of leftovers we had. To the tune of 8-9 pans of spiced grilled chicken, lamb, rice, and hummus. (Did I bring tupperware to work today? You know damn right I did.)
Anticipating a Middle-Eastern breakfast, I came in early armed with the knowledge that at least my gastro-intestinal needs would be met. Not so much. Housecleaning emptied the employee fridge. 8-10 pans of perfectly good food? Tossed. Baby P? Heartbrok...Pissed the righteous f#ck off.
So I worked and hit the 'Bow for some goodies. Breakfast ended up being-
1) A Clif Peanut Butter Chocolate Bar and
2) An on-sale bag of fake Lobster Meat
Clearly, bachelordom spreads fast than Ebola.
I hit the gym for some rehab (Finally. A proper leg/shoulder/arm and back rehab workout on the extension machine and foam roller. After a lengthy sauna and a hot hot hot shower I could touch my toes! I felt like an ambulatory human again, even for a little while.)
I managed a HD trip for some more cedar mulch (HEY! 5 bags for $10!!! Only until tomorrow!) and some potting soil and managed to get home to plant my potted pansies. (And why with the "Pansy"? They're hearty. Thrive in sun and shade. Why not "Kick-Ass McGoo's!"?) Well. My deck looks a little nicer.
Dinner is an egg white omelet with asparagus, soy cheese, marinated tofu, and spinach*. Basically what I have in the fridge with the hope that I can get through my Egg Beaters before they expire. I'd do it for breakfast tomorrow, but that defeats my weekly bachelor goals. WHICH ARE!
1- See some theatre. Moda and I were frassin' that there were a bunch of shows we wanted to see so I figured I'd try to make sure my actor-card was punched and do my part to support local theatre. I know tonight I'm gonna try and see "Relatively Speaking" at TRP. My buddies A and D are in it and Moda already caught a preview so I hope that I can make it. Otherwise I know I'm gonna see "Our Country's...okay" (Starting Gate's last show. Sniff) on Monday for PWYC and tomorrow? Well, we'll see. It'll be either "Queens of Burley-Q" at the History or I wait for the evening to see if the BNI has any shows a-playin. The rest of the week? Who knows.
2-I'm going to get a breakfast sandwich tomorrow morning at Subway if it kills me. I have no time or patience to try and do it during the week (I make my own work breakfast, folks) and even though I could cobble the accotrements together to make the same thing at home, I'd like to see what the fuss is over their "egg-white on an english muffin prepared by a sandwich artist" Breakfast sammy is like. Don't judge me, monkeys.
3- I've taken the week off post-race and I'm going to start race training again tomorrow. maybe 4.5 or 5 miles. Who knows. I may try and actively scamper out to BC to hit USA for some karate style action. I'm rusty. My back has been so f#cked up that even trying a front kick makes my knee buckle. Who knows. Could be fun. Could be damaging.
4-Drive out to BP. Dad was apprehensive when I mentioned my desire to flit through my hometown, but the closing of Brookdale has got me kind of nostaligic. Not a very progressive feeling, sure, but that's part of my make-up. Drop a carnation off at Eric's grave and say "hi" to the lamb. Traipse up Brooklyn Blvd. Stop at "Rocky's" or "Blondie's" for a slice or a salad. I dunno. Maybe I'll call the Gay Burrito and see if he's game. Leave an old man to his memories, for pities sake.
5- Finish class. My BNI classes (officially) end on Tuesday with our "performance" slated for Saturday. Anyone want to watch free student Improv, traipse down to the BNW. I won't give out the time unless you're serious. One of my classmates is s#itting kittens. Be nice.
6- See a flick on my own. "Nightmare" just opened and I have a jones to see either "Kick-Ass" or "The Losers". Which will I pick? I don't know.
There it is. Sorry I won't have exciting stories to post regaling you about my afternoon at BJ's for "Nickel Lap Dances from 3-6pm but I hope that my telling you what I eat/imbibe (Ooo...does this Chianti pair nicely with my microwaved Boca Burger? Should I do the fat-free Bean Burrito with Guiness or an ale?) will bring you amusement while I'm imposing a sort of house arrest.
For your amusement.
*Feel free to add sliced garlic and diced green onion/tomato if you're ambitious.
Heat small skillet to medium and spray with Pam. Add tofu, then cut up asparagus...wait a minute...garlic (DON'T LET IT BURN!) then spinach (and tomato) last. Simultaneously, spray a larger pan and let it heat up while this nonsense is happening. Once you've gotten around to seeing if the spinach is wilting a little, the large pan (on medium-medium high) should be hot enough. Add the egg-white Egg Beater (Or regular) to the pan until it starts to set. (Move the pan around the burner if it doesn't heat evenly) Once set, add the cheese, then add the veggie mix to one end of the omelet. Check the corners with your turner then flip and press the top. Turn the entire thing (try not to brown it) and transfer to plate. Add pepper, salt, or hot sauce to taste.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Just do it
We made it, folks! Our first 10K done together. We both managed to come in around 1:03 which put us at approximately 10:10 minute mile! (The GetInGear10K.com website is cool about giving you an exact read from when you first cross the starting line to when you finish, thanks to this handle little electronic device placed behind your run number) I'll do my best to spare you the minutiae ("Went to be early, got up, drank 1 liter of water and a glass of Muscle Milk. Breakfast was 1/2 banana and a slice of wheat toast...") Blah and nope. Instead, we had some observations which we found interesting, weird, perplexing, and gross. I'll save the most gruesome one for last...
1- Holy crap it was crowded. It was a cold and drizzle McTizzly morning when we arrived at the VA med center parking lot. They had buses shuttling people to the starting gate but the line was prohibitive to say the least. (Per Moda: "If there is one thing I hate, it's waiting") Since it was only a mile to the pavillion we opted to hoof it. This was a good call. It got us warmed up, and our legs nice and springy . And it made for better people watching. (Maniacs. Seriously there were people sprinting past us. Hard. F. Core.)
2-Once again, I find myself feeling like the "Bad News Bear" of the particular sport I'm involved in. With karate, it was usually just a simple case of having mismatched gi's or hand-me-down bo's. No biggie. Here, I'm running in a t-shirt and swimtrunks (which, to be fair, were totally appropriate due to the biblical level of rain) when everyone else is wearing Under Armour or rain resistant mesh by-weave and special running gloves. (What? You need gloves to run? Why is this blowing my mind?)
3- I did pass a dude who was running in jean shorts. Jean. Shorts. So, you know, at least I wasn't that dude. Epic fail for him, and the dude hiking through Moab in penny loafers.
4- There was a distinct lack of Kenyans. IJS.
5-Never discount the power of a cheerleader. I won't lie. 6.2 miles might not seem like much to some folks but there comes/came a point, ohhhhh, around mile 4.5 or so when I was feeling it. Not that euphoria hooey either. My breathing became labored and I think I got first hand what an asthma attack feels like. .2 miles left and my vision got fuzzy. And past mile 5, my quads were singing a horribly off-tune song.
But the folks who'd yell "Great job, runners!" and "Almost there!"...heck, there was that weird girl who kept materializing every other check point (who, unless she was triplets, had to be driving from check point to check point) were really helpful in pushing through to the end. Thanks, nameless masses with the cowbells who laughed when I yelled back "MORE COW-BELL!!!"
6-A lot of runners have nice asses.
7-There are still quite a few that don't.
8-Moda was chagrined at the noticeable lack of Vibrum runners (for the record, due to the rain she refrained from wearing them. This time) but you should have seen her head dart around after hearing that distinctive clip-clop noise on the pavement.
9-We've been training for around 2 months now and our long runs have been 8-9 miles so far. But in spite of a fairly flat (and scenic) course, 6.2 miles kicked our asses two ways from Sunday. When we were done, Moda's already frassy hip and my frassy lower back were screaming. We swung into Pizza Luce' afterwards to reward ourselves and to watch her cross the street was like watching a senior citizen who forgot their walker. Seriously.
10- Female marathonists are also hard core. While we were waiting in line for our shuttle they were announcing the female half-marathonists coming around the bend...an hour and a half after the race had started. 13 miles in 90 minutes. Whoa.
11- Thankfully, there were no sightings of anyone making a mess in their pants. (Which Mo gah-RACIOUSly was able to direct me toward on the interwebs. Note to self- There are entirely too many YouTube videos of people s#itting themselves. PS- Martial Arts peeps can check out the BJJ match where this happens. Dude picked the wrong day to wear the white gi.)
12- UNfortunately...there was a bleeding nipple sighting. Gah. I can't believe I typed that. We were waiting in the long queue to exit the parking lot which was next to the shuttle drop off point. We'd periodically comment on the folks we'd see. (To the people who were still running? Quit showin' off. Martyrs) Mo was futzing with her Ipod when I saw the dude just...walking across the parking lot. In a white t-shirt. With bright red bloodstains running from his cannons...And you know, why white? Really? You need to advertise? Sheesh. Any way I pointed this out to Moda who took a second for it to register but her reaction was pretty damn stellar if I may say so. ("Hey look at that. Bloody nipples."/Beat...beat..."oh my God....OH MY GOD!") I mean, I guess I lucked out with only a little chafing around my belt line and a dime sized blister on my arch.
Hell of a thing to see in real life. I mean why white, dude. Gah.
Anyway, we hobbled home and later that night treated ourselves to pizza and Thai food for a job well done. Next up? Over twice that distance. While I'm certainly starting to understand the run-culture which has Moda in it's thrall, I'm not too sure I'm meshed in with it. One thing is for certain, and that's realizing that training is only about 60% of it. The rest? Mental. And here's me, who can't keep focused on one topic for more than 20 seconds.
Eep. D-Day indeed.
1- Holy crap it was crowded. It was a cold and drizzle McTizzly morning when we arrived at the VA med center parking lot. They had buses shuttling people to the starting gate but the line was prohibitive to say the least. (Per Moda: "If there is one thing I hate, it's waiting") Since it was only a mile to the pavillion we opted to hoof it. This was a good call. It got us warmed up, and our legs nice and springy . And it made for better people watching. (Maniacs. Seriously there were people sprinting past us. Hard. F. Core.)
2-Once again, I find myself feeling like the "Bad News Bear" of the particular sport I'm involved in. With karate, it was usually just a simple case of having mismatched gi's or hand-me-down bo's. No biggie. Here, I'm running in a t-shirt and swimtrunks (which, to be fair, were totally appropriate due to the biblical level of rain) when everyone else is wearing Under Armour or rain resistant mesh by-weave and special running gloves. (What? You need gloves to run? Why is this blowing my mind?)
3- I did pass a dude who was running in jean shorts. Jean. Shorts. So, you know, at least I wasn't that dude. Epic fail for him, and the dude hiking through Moab in penny loafers.
4- There was a distinct lack of Kenyans. IJS.
5-Never discount the power of a cheerleader. I won't lie. 6.2 miles might not seem like much to some folks but there comes/came a point, ohhhhh, around mile 4.5 or so when I was feeling it. Not that euphoria hooey either. My breathing became labored and I think I got first hand what an asthma attack feels like. .2 miles left and my vision got fuzzy. And past mile 5, my quads were singing a horribly off-tune song.
But the folks who'd yell "Great job, runners!" and "Almost there!"...heck, there was that weird girl who kept materializing every other check point (who, unless she was triplets, had to be driving from check point to check point) were really helpful in pushing through to the end. Thanks, nameless masses with the cowbells who laughed when I yelled back "MORE COW-BELL!!!"
6-A lot of runners have nice asses.
7-There are still quite a few that don't.
8-Moda was chagrined at the noticeable lack of Vibrum runners (for the record, due to the rain she refrained from wearing them. This time) but you should have seen her head dart around after hearing that distinctive clip-clop noise on the pavement.
9-We've been training for around 2 months now and our long runs have been 8-9 miles so far. But in spite of a fairly flat (and scenic) course, 6.2 miles kicked our asses two ways from Sunday. When we were done, Moda's already frassy hip and my frassy lower back were screaming. We swung into Pizza Luce' afterwards to reward ourselves and to watch her cross the street was like watching a senior citizen who forgot their walker. Seriously.
10- Female marathonists are also hard core. While we were waiting in line for our shuttle they were announcing the female half-marathonists coming around the bend...an hour and a half after the race had started. 13 miles in 90 minutes. Whoa.
11- Thankfully, there were no sightings of anyone making a mess in their pants. (Which Mo gah-RACIOUSly was able to direct me toward on the interwebs. Note to self- There are entirely too many YouTube videos of people s#itting themselves. PS- Martial Arts peeps can check out the BJJ match where this happens. Dude picked the wrong day to wear the white gi.)
12- UNfortunately...there was a bleeding nipple sighting. Gah. I can't believe I typed that. We were waiting in the long queue to exit the parking lot which was next to the shuttle drop off point. We'd periodically comment on the folks we'd see. (To the people who were still running? Quit showin' off. Martyrs) Mo was futzing with her Ipod when I saw the dude just...walking across the parking lot. In a white t-shirt. With bright red bloodstains running from his cannons...And you know, why white? Really? You need to advertise? Sheesh. Any way I pointed this out to Moda who took a second for it to register but her reaction was pretty damn stellar if I may say so. ("Hey look at that. Bloody nipples."/Beat...beat..."oh my God....OH MY GOD!") I mean, I guess I lucked out with only a little chafing around my belt line and a dime sized blister on my arch.
Hell of a thing to see in real life. I mean why white, dude. Gah.
Anyway, we hobbled home and later that night treated ourselves to pizza and Thai food for a job well done. Next up? Over twice that distance. While I'm certainly starting to understand the run-culture which has Moda in it's thrall, I'm not too sure I'm meshed in with it. One thing is for certain, and that's realizing that training is only about 60% of it. The rest? Mental. And here's me, who can't keep focused on one topic for more than 20 seconds.
Eep. D-Day indeed.
Friday, April 23, 2010
And I was running...
Hey, yeah, what? That's right. Tomorrow is the big day! 1st race of the...wait. I actually don't think I've participated in a Something-K since, oh, 1992? Since starting to run/jog outdoors in 1994? Huh. And it's all because Moda got a bug up her butt to start training a few months ago and now she's all wearing Vibrums and can peel bananas with her feet while wearing shoes and s#it. (I kid, I kid. Why? Because I love)
I honestly can say I'm feel a little trepidation even though we've been running over 6 miles fairly smoothly for the last month or so. (Ask me about our 8.5 mile behemoth we ran out of doors on Sunday at Hyland Park. 90. Degree. Hill/trail.) Not that I won't finish, or will be the slowest (I guarantee there'll probably be at least 100-200 Kenyans there). No, we've both remarked that our legs are pretty strong and the soreness I feel isn't isolated to the joints. (My calves and quads being sore where they should be for this much training) Nope, it's work.
The last 2-3 weeks or so, mandatory overtime has been in place. So I've been sequestered to a desk for anywhere from 48-50 hours a week, 6 days a week. Now, in spite of what you read in magazines about "stretching at your desk" or "taking frequent walks" (which, um, they kinda frown at being that there's this, I don't know, weird expectation that you work...) It's just the sitting and working has made my lower back frassy. Now, to be fair, when I'm training it actually feels fine. Doesn't make me bat an eye. But end of day? Taking off my shoes? That becomes a bit more of a struggle.
So on our nights off, we sit on the couch with either a bag of frozen peas or an ice pack and watch "Mad Men" (Moda has a frassy hip flexor) and will take turns rolling on the foam roller (yeah. I never thought I'd get one either. Shup. The dumb thing works) and popping 800 mgs of Ibuprofen which don't usually help too much. It's great fun.
So tomorrow around this time we'll be home probably icing our respective bits. High-fiving on our first run-like accomplishment. For my part, I hope to finish under 75-80 minutes which should be accomplishable. If you're in the area, I'll be the pale whale under a blue poncho. (Yeah, it's supposed to rain too. Natch) Until then, tonight is our complimentary carb load up at the site. Wahoo.
I honestly can say I'm feel a little trepidation even though we've been running over 6 miles fairly smoothly for the last month or so. (Ask me about our 8.5 mile behemoth we ran out of doors on Sunday at Hyland Park. 90. Degree. Hill/trail.) Not that I won't finish, or will be the slowest (I guarantee there'll probably be at least 100-200 Kenyans there). No, we've both remarked that our legs are pretty strong and the soreness I feel isn't isolated to the joints. (My calves and quads being sore where they should be for this much training) Nope, it's work.
The last 2-3 weeks or so, mandatory overtime has been in place. So I've been sequestered to a desk for anywhere from 48-50 hours a week, 6 days a week. Now, in spite of what you read in magazines about "stretching at your desk" or "taking frequent walks" (which, um, they kinda frown at being that there's this, I don't know, weird expectation that you work...) It's just the sitting and working has made my lower back frassy. Now, to be fair, when I'm training it actually feels fine. Doesn't make me bat an eye. But end of day? Taking off my shoes? That becomes a bit more of a struggle.
So on our nights off, we sit on the couch with either a bag of frozen peas or an ice pack and watch "Mad Men" (Moda has a frassy hip flexor) and will take turns rolling on the foam roller (yeah. I never thought I'd get one either. Shup. The dumb thing works) and popping 800 mgs of Ibuprofen which don't usually help too much. It's great fun.
So tomorrow around this time we'll be home probably icing our respective bits. High-fiving on our first run-like accomplishment. For my part, I hope to finish under 75-80 minutes which should be accomplishable. If you're in the area, I'll be the pale whale under a blue poncho. (Yeah, it's supposed to rain too. Natch) Until then, tonight is our complimentary carb load up at the site. Wahoo.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Duplicity...or WTF
This is topical, but it's been stewing in my mind since last night-
So I get Moda back for around 4 months while she takes a theatrical summer vacation and last night was technically our first real "night" in on a school night. It was a breezy evening w/Chinese Food, "Mad Men", and the newest on her NF queue- "Duplicity". Now, I knew going in that it hadn't the greatest of reviews but I was willing to give this more of a chance than other craptastic filler films that've been released in the last 5-10 years or so.
That being said, I've watched mini-series that have sped by faster than the first 40 minutes of this movie. It was so head scratchingly awful, that the only 2 things I could think of was that (1) Julia and Clive wanted to do a movie together where they could get paid an a$$ load of money and spend their time travelling the world during the shoot. (Locations included NYC, Rome, Bahamas, Miami, and Zurich. And Ohio, natch. This is also called "Ocean's 12 Syndrome")
The 2nd reason was so they could put there own little "6 degrees" game together for film dorks (like moi) to get antsy in the pantsy and at least try and figure out why they put together this addled confusing mess of a film. Let me show you starting with the big guns-
Julia and Clive were in "Closer" together and must have had a good time and wanted to snog on camera together.
Way further back, Julia was in a movie called "My Best Friends Wedding" with Paul Giamatti playing the role of a sympathetic bell hop.
Denis O'Hare ("Duke") was in "Michael Clayton" which also starred Tom Wilkinson.
Anyway, these aren't all loose. The dude who played "Homer Stokes" in "O Brother" was also in the flick, which starred George Clooney who does crap with Julia and was also in "Michael Clayton" which was another hoy palloy flick (albeit intensely and insanely better) than this tripe.
My theories may be crazy, but there seems to be a hint of truth. I found it funny (in a movie that wasn't very) the lineage between Chive and Julio regarding how much $ they could get ("$20million?"/"I was thinking 40Million") could easily be analagous to how much $ they're getting.
Ridiculous.
So I get Moda back for around 4 months while she takes a theatrical summer vacation and last night was technically our first real "night" in on a school night. It was a breezy evening w/Chinese Food, "Mad Men", and the newest on her NF queue- "Duplicity". Now, I knew going in that it hadn't the greatest of reviews but I was willing to give this more of a chance than other craptastic filler films that've been released in the last 5-10 years or so.
That being said, I've watched mini-series that have sped by faster than the first 40 minutes of this movie. It was so head scratchingly awful, that the only 2 things I could think of was that (1) Julia and Clive wanted to do a movie together where they could get paid an a$$ load of money and spend their time travelling the world during the shoot. (Locations included NYC, Rome, Bahamas, Miami, and Zurich. And Ohio, natch. This is also called "Ocean's 12 Syndrome")
The 2nd reason was so they could put there own little "6 degrees" game together for film dorks (like moi) to get antsy in the pantsy and at least try and figure out why they put together this addled confusing mess of a film. Let me show you starting with the big guns-
Julia and Clive were in "Closer" together and must have had a good time and wanted to snog on camera together.
Way further back, Julia was in a movie called "My Best Friends Wedding" with Paul Giamatti playing the role of a sympathetic bell hop.
Denis O'Hare ("Duke") was in "Michael Clayton" which also starred Tom Wilkinson.
Anyway, these aren't all loose. The dude who played "Homer Stokes" in "O Brother" was also in the flick, which starred George Clooney who does crap with Julia and was also in "Michael Clayton" which was another hoy palloy flick (albeit intensely and insanely better) than this tripe.
My theories may be crazy, but there seems to be a hint of truth. I found it funny (in a movie that wasn't very) the lineage between Chive and Julio regarding how much $ they could get ("$20million?"/"I was thinking 40Million") could easily be analagous to how much $ they're getting.
Ridiculous.
Friday, April 09, 2010
For chuckles
Nothing great. I just found a trailer that made me laugh a bit.
http://movies.yahoo.com/movie/1810116447/video/19060028
Wooden gun, btw.
http://movies.yahoo.com/movie/1810116447/video/19060028
Wooden gun, btw.
Thursday, April 08, 2010
Training, Learning, et.al.
Okay, so the saga of the bogarted break-room creamer clearly didn't keep you all rapt. I understand. For me, it's the little stories that add spice to life. Like, for instance, my cat. Who was such an annoying pest the other night- licking my head, knocking over my lip goo/water bottle/NEARly my lamp before I actually chucked his ass underhand out of my bed. He promptly went into daddy's room (the Bean) and started caterwauling until he got up, went downstairs, filled his bowl, and went back to bed.
Folks, there was food in the bowl when I went downstairs not an hour before. 15 minutes later Georgie comes back into my bedroom where I can hear him stop at the foot of the bed. He then proceeds to puke (mind you- every time this cat vomits he emits a low, low growling moan) so this lead me to believe that I pissed him off, he coerced the Bean into feeding him (effectively "re-loading") went back upstairs and proceeded to do a spite-barf. He didn't even run off as I got out of bed and watched him lazily pad back out of the room. Ass cat.
So news. First-
The weather lately has been fantastic for early Spring. My tulips, day lillies, and many of my perennials that I planted, oh, two years ago? Are all popping up en masse. More importantly, all nine of the garlic bulbs we planted are starting to sprout! (My 1st count last week I only saw 6, so I chalked it up to zealous and hungry squirrel-terrorists. As it got warmer, boom. 3 more) Between that and the seeds Moda planted that are exploding we're going to have a veritable bounty. It'd be such a nice contrast with last years relatively weak harvest. I've even been contemplating expansion. GASP!
Second-
My contract here at the BGWC will be extended through the summer (if they like me) as opposed to running out in Spring. I guess the housing market is still buyer-centric and judging by how swamped we've been I should still be gainfully employed with a chance of mandatory overtime forseeable. (Boo...I mean YE$$$!!!) The downside is that I had to pull out of Paul Bunyan and it marks probably the first time in nearly 20 years of performing that I've ever done so. I need the dough, I know. It just sucks. A show would have been nice. That show would have been nice.
Third-
I'm currently in week #3 at the BNI's performance track class. I hemmed and hawed but the classes are pretty challenging and as an actor are helping make some discoveries. I don't want to get too poncey about it since it's a lot of what actors have heard before, sufficed to say it was a good choice and I'm getting a lot out of it. Class tends to always go over and we hash over what we've just worked on that night. So yeah. Playtime. Thanks, dad.
Fourth-
Since I've been in a learnin' state of mind, I'm going to take Choy Li Fut for 8 weeks. It's a class I'd been hankerin' to take (along with Wing Chun and Capoeria...and ball room dancing) for a while since I received the community circulars so I thought I'd give it a whirl. We'll see. Kiiiya.
Fifth-
Run training is...well it is. I've already made it past the 10K mark, topping off (as of late last March) at 7.5 miles. However, the nice weather has been taking me off the 'Mill and putting me on the proper roadways/trails. Except, and I won't lie... it's a bitch. I commented to Moda that I can definitely feel my legs getting stronger and my knees (knocking on wood) have felt okay. Holy Moly, my anterior tibalis and gastrocnemius are the devil. Just yesterday on an "easy" 4.5 miler I had to stop 4-5 times just to stretch it out. I'm hitting the gym to strength cross-train, but the out of doors is becoming a bit daunting. I might have to go back to the treadmill in spite of good weather. Frass. And here we did our first (and my longest) outdoor training run around Lake of the Isles/Calhoun last weekend.*
The races are 4/24 and 6/6 respectively. Think healing thoughts.
Sixth-
Vay. Cay. Shun. That's right, kids. Moda and I are West-coasting, heading out to OR to see L and D's wedding. Then it's a few days of scrabbling up and down the coast before heading home. Damn straight I'm happy. First proper vacation I'll have had in over 2 years. I need the ocean. And it gives my roommate his precious "house to himself" days.
Seventh-
Moda finally comes to the end of a long run of consecutive shows in less than two weeks. It'll be nice to have my cooking/gardening/frassing buddy...well to get my girlfriend back. It's gonna be Farmers Markets, dirty hands, bike rides, happy hours, and sunshine for buddies.
WaHoo.
(*Perspective- MD is running a 100K marathon for OXFAM. Holy crap)
Folks, there was food in the bowl when I went downstairs not an hour before. 15 minutes later Georgie comes back into my bedroom where I can hear him stop at the foot of the bed. He then proceeds to puke (mind you- every time this cat vomits he emits a low, low growling moan) so this lead me to believe that I pissed him off, he coerced the Bean into feeding him (effectively "re-loading") went back upstairs and proceeded to do a spite-barf. He didn't even run off as I got out of bed and watched him lazily pad back out of the room. Ass cat.
So news. First-
The weather lately has been fantastic for early Spring. My tulips, day lillies, and many of my perennials that I planted, oh, two years ago? Are all popping up en masse. More importantly, all nine of the garlic bulbs we planted are starting to sprout! (My 1st count last week I only saw 6, so I chalked it up to zealous and hungry squirrel-terrorists. As it got warmer, boom. 3 more) Between that and the seeds Moda planted that are exploding we're going to have a veritable bounty. It'd be such a nice contrast with last years relatively weak harvest. I've even been contemplating expansion. GASP!
Second-
My contract here at the BGWC will be extended through the summer (if they like me) as opposed to running out in Spring. I guess the housing market is still buyer-centric and judging by how swamped we've been I should still be gainfully employed with a chance of mandatory overtime forseeable. (Boo...I mean YE$$$!!!) The downside is that I had to pull out of Paul Bunyan and it marks probably the first time in nearly 20 years of performing that I've ever done so. I need the dough, I know. It just sucks. A show would have been nice. That show would have been nice.
Third-
I'm currently in week #3 at the BNI's performance track class. I hemmed and hawed but the classes are pretty challenging and as an actor are helping make some discoveries. I don't want to get too poncey about it since it's a lot of what actors have heard before, sufficed to say it was a good choice and I'm getting a lot out of it. Class tends to always go over and we hash over what we've just worked on that night. So yeah. Playtime. Thanks, dad.
Fourth-
Since I've been in a learnin' state of mind, I'm going to take Choy Li Fut for 8 weeks. It's a class I'd been hankerin' to take (along with Wing Chun and Capoeria...and ball room dancing) for a while since I received the community circulars so I thought I'd give it a whirl. We'll see. Kiiiya.
Fifth-
Run training is...well it is. I've already made it past the 10K mark, topping off (as of late last March) at 7.5 miles. However, the nice weather has been taking me off the 'Mill and putting me on the proper roadways/trails. Except, and I won't lie... it's a bitch. I commented to Moda that I can definitely feel my legs getting stronger and my knees (knocking on wood) have felt okay. Holy Moly, my anterior tibalis and gastrocnemius are the devil. Just yesterday on an "easy" 4.5 miler I had to stop 4-5 times just to stretch it out. I'm hitting the gym to strength cross-train, but the out of doors is becoming a bit daunting. I might have to go back to the treadmill in spite of good weather. Frass. And here we did our first (and my longest) outdoor training run around Lake of the Isles/Calhoun last weekend.*
The races are 4/24 and 6/6 respectively. Think healing thoughts.
Sixth-
Vay. Cay. Shun. That's right, kids. Moda and I are West-coasting, heading out to OR to see L and D's wedding. Then it's a few days of scrabbling up and down the coast before heading home. Damn straight I'm happy. First proper vacation I'll have had in over 2 years. I need the ocean. And it gives my roommate his precious "house to himself" days.
Seventh-
Moda finally comes to the end of a long run of consecutive shows in less than two weeks. It'll be nice to have my cooking/gardening/frassing buddy...well to get my girlfriend back. It's gonna be Farmers Markets, dirty hands, bike rides, happy hours, and sunshine for buddies.
WaHoo.
(*Perspective- MD is running a 100K marathon for OXFAM. Holy crap)
Sunday, April 04, 2010
Well...not all of them.
I checked out Moda's show last Friday. ("Safe as Houses" at the Theatre Garage. Get off yer duff's and see it, fools!) And I was remarking later that the lead bears a striking resemblance to Redwright's hubby. Which, of course, gets me olde gears spinning since I ran into another actor who bears another uncanny resemblance to my roommate, El Bean. So I'm pontificating this yesterday (meaning- putting off raking) to him while he's doing the dog and pony show which is making his breakfast, and he seems genuinely interested in spite of the fact that (A) I have no story and (B) my idea is solely based on the fact that two pairs of actors look like one and other.
Anyway, our dialogue. For your enjoyment:
M- "So that's it. You and _____ are brothers and _____ and _____ are brothers. Cool?"
D- "Okay. Just don't cast any annoying actors."
M- "Which ones?"
Anyway, our dialogue. For your enjoyment:
M- "So that's it. You and _____ are brothers and _____ and _____ are brothers. Cool?"
D- "Okay. Just don't cast any annoying actors."
M- "Which ones?"
Friday, April 02, 2010
And it's the A-hole FTW!
They threw it out.
This epic opus I've been on this week to see if my creamer would go unsullied comes to a tragic and abrupt end this morning. As I made my bleary eyed way to the fridge, I mindlessly reached in the back to obtain my beloved coffee mate only to withdraw empty handed. "But, but...it was there yesterday?!? And with puh-LENTY to spare. So clever, you are, my friend. Writing snarky notes works the BEST! Ah. Ha. Haaaa".
Nope. My initial deduction is that some mammy-jam read the little novella I taped to the side of the bottle and was grossed out. If there is any justice in the world, it'll have been the yahoo who was bogarting my creamer.
That's some redonkulous bullshit to start a Friday.
This epic opus I've been on this week to see if my creamer would go unsullied comes to a tragic and abrupt end this morning. As I made my bleary eyed way to the fridge, I mindlessly reached in the back to obtain my beloved coffee mate only to withdraw empty handed. "But, but...it was there yesterday?!? And with puh-LENTY to spare. So clever, you are, my friend. Writing snarky notes works the BEST! Ah. Ha. Haaaa".
Nope. My initial deduction is that some mammy-jam read the little novella I taped to the side of the bottle and was grossed out. If there is any justice in the world, it'll have been the yahoo who was bogarting my creamer.
That's some redonkulous bullshit to start a Friday.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
ICYC*
*In case you're curious-
My creamer remains untouched as of Wednesday. Last week at this time? It was nearly empty. I'm keeping my eyes peeled for people who look like they've lost sleep due to their GUILTY ASS CONSCIENCE'S!!!
Ahem.
My creamer remains untouched as of Wednesday. Last week at this time? It was nearly empty. I'm keeping my eyes peeled for people who look like they've lost sleep due to their GUILTY ASS CONSCIENCE'S!!!
Ahem.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Eff a bunch of food kleptomaniacs.
If you haven't guessed, I have very few things I say I can "hate" on. Canned mushrooms. Reality TV. Glenn Beck. Other drivers. All legit "hates". What can really color your day, are the food klepto's. It was bad enough a few weeks back when some D-bag took a bite out of my sammich and put it back. It's another thing entirely to get my yogurt and discover it's disappeared. (For some reason, people just really like to make off with their acidophilus fix)
The cake hath now been taketh, for over the last two weeks I've noticed that my fat free vanilla creamer has felt suspiciously lighter by the end of the week. (A small bottle usually gets me through M-F with some to spare. And that accounts for my a.m. and p.m. caffeine fix.) Yesterday was the proof in the pudding, as I was pouring it into my mug and was greeted with a trickling that barely changed the color of the coffee. (I'm kinda like James Belushi in "Red Heat" where there's a magical alchemical formula for that perfect coffee to creamer or coffee to cream/sugar ratio.) Needless to say, I was pissed.
So today, after scheming up a few Machiavellian revenge scenarios (Fill the empty bottle with cottage cheese and milk? Vinegar? BBQ sauce and water?) I decided that a little note taped to the bottle would suffice. It reads as follows:
To the person who has been stealing my creamer:
Just so you know, this stuff isn't cheap and what you are doing is still THEFT. Therefore I have licked the lid to this container, and I may or may not have a cold sore.
ps: I will be doing this on future bottles of creamer. HANDS OFF!
The cake hath now been taketh, for over the last two weeks I've noticed that my fat free vanilla creamer has felt suspiciously lighter by the end of the week. (A small bottle usually gets me through M-F with some to spare. And that accounts for my a.m. and p.m. caffeine fix.) Yesterday was the proof in the pudding, as I was pouring it into my mug and was greeted with a trickling that barely changed the color of the coffee. (I'm kinda like James Belushi in "Red Heat" where there's a magical alchemical formula for that perfect coffee to creamer or coffee to cream/sugar ratio.) Needless to say, I was pissed.
So today, after scheming up a few Machiavellian revenge scenarios (Fill the empty bottle with cottage cheese and milk? Vinegar? BBQ sauce and water?) I decided that a little note taped to the bottle would suffice. It reads as follows:
To the person who has been stealing my creamer:
Just so you know, this stuff isn't cheap and what you are doing is still THEFT. Therefore I have licked the lid to this container, and I may or may not have a cold sore.
ps: I will be doing this on future bottles of creamer. HANDS OFF!
Thursday, March 25, 2010
The way the gears turn
I really like having buddy cooking nights coming back. (I know, I know...this is probably sounding more like a hippo blog. Go with me.) Since Moda has a shortie rehearsal I figured I'd buck the tradition of "I make breakfast and grill/She makes dinners" and whip something up. Thing is, I'm such a frassy flibbertigibbity impatient bing-bong that I'll look at close to 14 recipes before eventually picking up taco's and arranging them on a plate like I made them myself. I exude frass.
After having tiring non-run day, I went to bed last night fully prepared to say "eff it" and chop up a bunch of veggies for marinated tofu veggie wraps. Leaving for work this morning, I was silently cursing the unwashed masses making my commute hell when I noticed a ton of trucks on the road. So where did I go with this seemingly random observence?
"Hm. Many trucks. Well of course, they're bringing in fresh sea food. Metro Mag had that article last month about the best time to buy seafood being Thursday, which is today. Ergo, the increase in diesel guzzlers can clearly be attributed to the fresh delivery of ocean fare to the Twin Cities stores and restaurants. Perhaps this is a sign I should try making seared scallops with pasta. Perhaps I should."
Yeah. Don't ask. I wound up making a joke about the movie "Any Which Way But Loose" this morning (Clint Eastwood and an Orangutang? Glorious comedy!) and all the babies looked at me like a grew a nipple on my forehead. I looked at the one person who knew what I was talking about and said-
"Well. There I go again dating myself. What? Oh. It was nice. I was a little embarrassed when I ordered a glass of wine and myself was actually trying not to drink for Lent. Myself was pretty charming. I don't know if we'll go out again, but we agreed to do coffee later in the week. Myself had a pretty sweet smile and was really good at directing the conversation back at myself. Who knows. Oh- And when I went to pay, myself insisted we go Dutch. That's pretty 80's, but that's cool. I'll pick up the coffee for myself and I later."
What is this madness?
After having tiring non-run day, I went to bed last night fully prepared to say "eff it" and chop up a bunch of veggies for marinated tofu veggie wraps. Leaving for work this morning, I was silently cursing the unwashed masses making my commute hell when I noticed a ton of trucks on the road. So where did I go with this seemingly random observence?
"Hm. Many trucks. Well of course, they're bringing in fresh sea food. Metro Mag had that article last month about the best time to buy seafood being Thursday, which is today. Ergo, the increase in diesel guzzlers can clearly be attributed to the fresh delivery of ocean fare to the Twin Cities stores and restaurants. Perhaps this is a sign I should try making seared scallops with pasta. Perhaps I should."
Yeah. Don't ask. I wound up making a joke about the movie "Any Which Way But Loose" this morning (Clint Eastwood and an Orangutang? Glorious comedy!) and all the babies looked at me like a grew a nipple on my forehead. I looked at the one person who knew what I was talking about and said-
"Well. There I go again dating myself. What? Oh. It was nice. I was a little embarrassed when I ordered a glass of wine and myself was actually trying not to drink for Lent. Myself was pretty charming. I don't know if we'll go out again, but we agreed to do coffee later in the week. Myself had a pretty sweet smile and was really good at directing the conversation back at myself. Who knows. Oh- And when I went to pay, myself insisted we go Dutch. That's pretty 80's, but that's cool. I'll pick up the coffee for myself and I later."
What is this madness?
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Coming to my census...
5. That is the number of badgering correspondence requesting I fill my 2010 census form out. I did it, of course. (And considered adding George teh Kitteh as a co-resident. I resisted, of course...) It's the dumbest thing ever and it doesn't really give one the sense of civic pride that comes with, say, voting. But I did it. It got me thinking of where I was 10 years ago and why those bastards at the census bureau didn't pester me then...then I realized life was very different. I was, of course, a C.H.U.D. (Carnal Hedonist Uptown Dweller) then I realized that I wasn't living in Uptown at all at the time which made me switch it to C.H.A.D. (tm) which stood for Crazy Headcase Apartment Dweller. Far more accurate. (RSvP and I lived in SE Mipples by the "U") Incidentally, and no offense to the Chad's of the world, but I think calling someone a "Chad" would be a great insult. Akin to "D-Bag". You go to a bar with a bunch of white ball-capped D-Bags? "Man. This place is crawling with Chads. Let's bail and get taco's." See?
Anyway, my point is 10 years ago I wasn't census'd. I did, however, get my wisdom teeth pulled. Coincidence? I think not.
What else...
I saw "Crank" and "Crank 2" (Hey. When Moda is at rehearsal it becomes bad movie night) Anyway, these flicks are inSANE. Not even bad, just insane...to the point where I found myself liking them in spite of their high bullshit factor. They were more action comedy than anything.
They made you want to...I don't know. Chug 6 Red Bulls and go for a run. Insane.
Oh. I'm starting improv classes at the Be-NeW. It'll be a hoot. I gotta be really honest, I'm not too hip on "games" etc. Zip Zap Zop? Nope. But it'll be nice to have a different outlet and see what all the fuss is about. Buddies like Ry-Gonn have been asking me to do it for a while now. And I think that dad would've liked it too. We shall see.
Anyway, my point is 10 years ago I wasn't census'd. I did, however, get my wisdom teeth pulled. Coincidence? I think not.
What else...
I saw "Crank" and "Crank 2" (Hey. When Moda is at rehearsal it becomes bad movie night) Anyway, these flicks are inSANE. Not even bad, just insane...to the point where I found myself liking them in spite of their high bullshit factor. They were more action comedy than anything.
They made you want to...I don't know. Chug 6 Red Bulls and go for a run. Insane.
Oh. I'm starting improv classes at the Be-NeW. It'll be a hoot. I gotta be really honest, I'm not too hip on "games" etc. Zip Zap Zop? Nope. But it'll be nice to have a different outlet and see what all the fuss is about. Buddies like Ry-Gonn have been asking me to do it for a while now. And I think that dad would've liked it too. We shall see.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Sprang has Sprung
Hey ho there! My daily lack of blogging is going to catch up with me. I BLAME THE WEATHER! So starting last weekend we evidenced a HUGH-mongous warm up. My yard is entirely sans snow and the only accumulation that's visible, really, are the mondo piles that've been pushed up in parking lots. Well, that and the snow mold- or "mould". That mystery had me reeling and thinking pod people were living in my yard.
So yeah, I've been trying to play outdoors more. Can you blame me? 60 degrees! In Mid-March! And it's High School tourney/March Madness! This is going to poke some serious holes in my airtight theories regarding MN Winters. (Note to...well everyone who thinks that this was a mild winter? Just remember- It never really ended from last year. I'm talking winter of 08/09 sorta trailed off into Fall from April to November and we got dumped on. Again. And December was witch-tatty cold)
Lo and behold the 1st day of Spring is approaching this Caturday. And while I've only but cautiously removed plastic from the kitchen windows (HOLY MOTHER I WAS ABLE TO AIR OUT MY HOUSE!!!) it'll be no time before I'm in full spring madness. That said, here are some tips and reminders for early Spring fever:
1- Just because the precipitation goes from snow to rain, doesn't mean people are going to drive any better. In fact, their confusion may make them drive worse. Trust public transportation.
2-If you have buddies who smoke, the melty snow will invariably show where they tossed their butts. Instead of the large tin can with cat litter in it that you left out for them to use as an ash tray.
3-Avocados. Totally in season. Get your guac on. Or Breakfast burrito. Or soup. Chow down on that noble vegetable while the chowing is good.
4-If you live in the city, your tap water is gonna reek for a few weeks. Runoff. Pure and simple.
5-One of my walking/jogging routes is by a dog park. Smell has no fury like a winters worth of melty poop.
6-When the weather spikes, people will foolheartily don their shorts. Be warned. There may be a glare.
7-I'd, um, well don't just put away your salt or shovels yet. I'm just sayin'...
So yeah, I've been trying to play outdoors more. Can you blame me? 60 degrees! In Mid-March! And it's High School tourney/March Madness! This is going to poke some serious holes in my airtight theories regarding MN Winters. (Note to...well everyone who thinks that this was a mild winter? Just remember- It never really ended from last year. I'm talking winter of 08/09 sorta trailed off into Fall from April to November and we got dumped on. Again. And December was witch-tatty cold)
Lo and behold the 1st day of Spring is approaching this Caturday. And while I've only but cautiously removed plastic from the kitchen windows (HOLY MOTHER I WAS ABLE TO AIR OUT MY HOUSE!!!) it'll be no time before I'm in full spring madness. That said, here are some tips and reminders for early Spring fever:
1- Just because the precipitation goes from snow to rain, doesn't mean people are going to drive any better. In fact, their confusion may make them drive worse. Trust public transportation.
2-If you have buddies who smoke, the melty snow will invariably show where they tossed their butts. Instead of the large tin can with cat litter in it that you left out for them to use as an ash tray.
3-Avocados. Totally in season. Get your guac on. Or Breakfast burrito. Or soup. Chow down on that noble vegetable while the chowing is good.
4-If you live in the city, your tap water is gonna reek for a few weeks. Runoff. Pure and simple.
5-One of my walking/jogging routes is by a dog park. Smell has no fury like a winters worth of melty poop.
6-When the weather spikes, people will foolheartily don their shorts. Be warned. There may be a glare.
7-I'd, um, well don't just put away your salt or shovels yet. I'm just sayin'...
Friday, March 12, 2010
They'RRRRRR GrrrrrEAT!
So I discovered via Melinite's Blog that I completely spaced this is the year of the TIGER according to my Chinese horoscope. How I could have flipping forgot this is beyond me. I suppose I was thinking of cheese. So it is my belief that this year, MY year, has to be flights and bounds better than my Ass-y 2009 and I resolve to try and look for the minutiae that make life grand and try to keep my optimism and general faith in human nature afloat. Unless it's Glen Beck or if I'm in my car during my commute. All bets are off then, sucka's.
It made me look back on where I was 12 years ago and trying to remember what made that a "good" year, so I dug into the archives (read: my planner/journal) to see what sort of place I was in at the time. Let's just say I was very...young. Okay:
-I was in what was to be my last year of college. It was my first full year as a single man after spending roughly the previous 7-8 years in one monogamous relationship after another. (Which meant I never spent too much time with my classmates, I hadn't really immersed myself in the program, and didn't know folks too well outside of acadamia) In other words, I wasn't running off from school to spend time with my giiiirlfriend.
-Subsequently, apppparently (the notes/journal gets fuzzy about this at times) I started dating within the program. I began working on my all-new old cheap moves, and went on many dates to the Riverside Perkins. World class charmer, I am.
-I saw a majority of my undergraduate buddies naked in "Hair". Again, very important as college was never really the bacchanalian orgy I had imagined from movies like "Animal House" or "Revenge of the Nerds".
-I got in my 1st show at TRP. Getting cast outside of school/way-off suburban community theatre made me feel like a big-kid. And put me on track for working my nuts off trying to start and get paid gigs.
-I purchased a big-kid bed. Queen sized mattress at an Uptown liquidator. I was so excited (after having slept on the couch for 3 months) that I heaved that thing up 3 flights all by my lonesome, throwing my back out in the process. I slept "sans" sheets for another 2 weeks.
- Apparently I started hanging with work co-workers a lot more as well. I was promoted to "Big-Balance" collections which meant a raise. I started hanging out at more Downtown bars and not dive/sports bars out in the 'burbs. I befriended Guiness, Gimlets, and red wine. One of them, dear old Ellen, was kind of like my personal fashionista...but worldly. My personal hipster teacher. Gave the dumb advice on things like how to pick wine. Making sure my belt and shoes were the same color. Cologne that worked with my body. (There's a reason I stopped coating my body with Preferred Stock) How to "not" talk about ex-girlfriends when taking a woman on a date. How to look like a million bucks by shopping at Opitz with only $20. Hair product s#it to use. She knew doormen at The Lounge and the old Pickled Parrot which would get us into VIP areas for free. We'd eat steamed mussels and sling back Manhatten's or Bloody Mary's at the Loring while listening to samba music. Seriously, she was one of the first female friends I had that I had chop down straight up platonic feelings for. And was cool. And it was helpful.
Especially when she would introduce me to her girlfriends. What? >: D
- I visited my friend in NYC for the 1st time. (NY, not my friend) I learned that getting recommendatios as to what Broadway show I should see can be a dicey game at best. (FYI- I thought "Hedwig" sucked my hedwig. I remember watching people walk out of the Jane Street theatre and envying them)
-I got my first Spider-Man costume. '98 was the year they actually started producing liscensed Marvel super-hero costumes, and even though the mask was a big doofy looking foam thing, it was the 1st Spider-Man costume I'd owned since I was 13.
-Dad retired. Before he did, and basing my rationale on things I learned in my Career Preparation for Actors class- I purchased a couple of suits. (We were advised that you should have suits to be able to wear to On-Camera auditions when needed. Okay?) The style and cut were actually the same as the suit my big brother owned so we ended up looking kind of like mannequins. I remember drinking Jameson straight up with my dad and teasing big brother about his Bailey's on the rocks. It felt amazing. Like big kids.
-This would be the first year I schlepped around my first Fringe Festival. There were, like, 4 venues. And about 30-40 theatre/dance groups. Funny thing, 12 years can do.
All told, it was a great year to be entering your "Quarter Life Crisis". I did the dumb, ego-centric things a single 24 year old can do. (Did I mention the young lady I went on a couple of dates with and would leave 5-7 minute rambly messages on my voicemail which I'd play for my friends to our amusement? Or supplying liquor to a couple of Luthern College minors at the behest of my ex-girlfriend only to have them get so loaded we needed to pull over 6 x's so they could heave all over the freeway? All decisions aren't the best decisions)
The year has a bit of a head start on me, but I'm feeling cautiously optimistic. You know? I landed a show up in Bemidji/Brainerd/Egypt. I'm driving a new vehicle. I've been steadily dating a really great gal. I have plans to start getting my hands dirty, really dirty again on the house. Shit that I know I've profrasstrinated on for too long. (Heck, I've even started the minor douche-y stuff around the lawn like cleaning debris.) I'm auditioning next week at the BNW for their performance class, something that I've always had in my periphery but never went after. (Oh, how dad...and Ry-Gonn for that matter used to pester me to do it.) I'm running a 10K then a 1/2 marathon. I've kiboshed (moooostly. Please don't begrudge a man for needing a beer after a really shite day) alcohol for Lent.
So maybe that's all the year of the Tiger is, right? The ability to actualize and create your own path by your own hand.
Shoot.
I might have to sit down with my copy of "The Path of Least Resistance" again...
It made me look back on where I was 12 years ago and trying to remember what made that a "good" year, so I dug into the archives (read: my planner/journal) to see what sort of place I was in at the time. Let's just say I was very...young. Okay:
-I was in what was to be my last year of college. It was my first full year as a single man after spending roughly the previous 7-8 years in one monogamous relationship after another. (Which meant I never spent too much time with my classmates, I hadn't really immersed myself in the program, and didn't know folks too well outside of acadamia) In other words, I wasn't running off from school to spend time with my giiiirlfriend.
-Subsequently, apppparently (the notes/journal gets fuzzy about this at times) I started dating within the program. I began working on my all-new old cheap moves, and went on many dates to the Riverside Perkins. World class charmer, I am.
-I saw a majority of my undergraduate buddies naked in "Hair". Again, very important as college was never really the bacchanalian orgy I had imagined from movies like "Animal House" or "Revenge of the Nerds".
-I got in my 1st show at TRP. Getting cast outside of school/way-off suburban community theatre made me feel like a big-kid. And put me on track for working my nuts off trying to start and get paid gigs.
-I purchased a big-kid bed. Queen sized mattress at an Uptown liquidator. I was so excited (after having slept on the couch for 3 months) that I heaved that thing up 3 flights all by my lonesome, throwing my back out in the process. I slept "sans" sheets for another 2 weeks.
- Apparently I started hanging with work co-workers a lot more as well. I was promoted to "Big-Balance" collections which meant a raise. I started hanging out at more Downtown bars and not dive/sports bars out in the 'burbs. I befriended Guiness, Gimlets, and red wine. One of them, dear old Ellen, was kind of like my personal fashionista...but worldly. My personal hipster teacher. Gave the dumb advice on things like how to pick wine. Making sure my belt and shoes were the same color. Cologne that worked with my body. (There's a reason I stopped coating my body with Preferred Stock) How to "not" talk about ex-girlfriends when taking a woman on a date. How to look like a million bucks by shopping at Opitz with only $20. Hair product s#it to use. She knew doormen at The Lounge and the old Pickled Parrot which would get us into VIP areas for free. We'd eat steamed mussels and sling back Manhatten's or Bloody Mary's at the Loring while listening to samba music. Seriously, she was one of the first female friends I had that I had chop down straight up platonic feelings for. And was cool. And it was helpful.
Especially when she would introduce me to her girlfriends. What? >: D
- I visited my friend in NYC for the 1st time. (NY, not my friend) I learned that getting recommendatios as to what Broadway show I should see can be a dicey game at best. (FYI- I thought "Hedwig" sucked my hedwig. I remember watching people walk out of the Jane Street theatre and envying them)
-I got my first Spider-Man costume. '98 was the year they actually started producing liscensed Marvel super-hero costumes, and even though the mask was a big doofy looking foam thing, it was the 1st Spider-Man costume I'd owned since I was 13.
-Dad retired. Before he did, and basing my rationale on things I learned in my Career Preparation for Actors class- I purchased a couple of suits. (We were advised that you should have suits to be able to wear to On-Camera auditions when needed. Okay?) The style and cut were actually the same as the suit my big brother owned so we ended up looking kind of like mannequins. I remember drinking Jameson straight up with my dad and teasing big brother about his Bailey's on the rocks. It felt amazing. Like big kids.
-This would be the first year I schlepped around my first Fringe Festival. There were, like, 4 venues. And about 30-40 theatre/dance groups. Funny thing, 12 years can do.
All told, it was a great year to be entering your "Quarter Life Crisis". I did the dumb, ego-centric things a single 24 year old can do. (Did I mention the young lady I went on a couple of dates with and would leave 5-7 minute rambly messages on my voicemail which I'd play for my friends to our amusement? Or supplying liquor to a couple of Luthern College minors at the behest of my ex-girlfriend only to have them get so loaded we needed to pull over 6 x's so they could heave all over the freeway? All decisions aren't the best decisions)
The year has a bit of a head start on me, but I'm feeling cautiously optimistic. You know? I landed a show up in Bemidji/Brainerd/Egypt. I'm driving a new vehicle. I've been steadily dating a really great gal. I have plans to start getting my hands dirty, really dirty again on the house. Shit that I know I've profrasstrinated on for too long. (Heck, I've even started the minor douche-y stuff around the lawn like cleaning debris.) I'm auditioning next week at the BNW for their performance class, something that I've always had in my periphery but never went after. (Oh, how dad...and Ry-Gonn for that matter used to pester me to do it.) I'm running a 10K then a 1/2 marathon. I've kiboshed (moooostly. Please don't begrudge a man for needing a beer after a really shite day) alcohol for Lent.
So maybe that's all the year of the Tiger is, right? The ability to actualize and create your own path by your own hand.
Shoot.
I might have to sit down with my copy of "The Path of Least Resistance" again...
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Suck it, Winter!!!
Wheee, Doggies. Who has two thumbs and hung up his deep winter Columbia Jacket and Overcoat in the basement? This guy. Weather dude sez the warming trend should continue and we've seen the last of negative digits/teens. In spite of the fact that we're 1/3rd of the way through March and we're about 2 HS Tourney's down-I won't hold my breath. (Too many variables in this state, Man.) Still, with my portly childs metabolism I feel confident I can ride out the season with my lighter jackets and gloves. That and the fact that the snow ban has lifted and the snow is receding to the point where I can see green grass again...and my solar walk lights.
And Moda got our seeds in the mail. She's gonna plant'em now so that they'll be ready to transfer to the big pots come the first real thaws. Pip.
So I wanted to take a quick second to say I'm not gonna bore the pants off of you regarding my race training any longer. Or food. (Two central preoccupations of mine, if you haven't already figured that out.) It's been an age since I've blogged a review/recipe I love so I'm gonna start doing that back over at http://hungryhippopotami.wordpress.com/ From there, you'll get reviews, training info (read: What we're eating for race prep) Garden status, New Recipes, and a melange of other tidbits. We welcome fellow foodies, race/marathon enthusiasts to participate with tips/finds/etc. Love it. (ICYC- Notice how one of the last posts is September? Yeah, there've been a few months. Shup. We're busy pants)
So I watched the Oscar ceremony at FeeJ's last Sunday and boy howdy was I pleased as punch. (You would have to have lived in a cave not to have picked Waltz and Mo'Nique for their supporting roles. Fierce, fierce acting) I've frassed about my theory (as does everybody and their sister) on how flawed the Academy judging process is. (Crowe winning for "Gladiator" when "The Insider" was clearly superior, same with Denzel winning for "Training Day"...Hello? "The Hurricane"? Makes ya weep)
Anyway, today's funny- Cracked clearly can posit their Oscar theories more eloquently than I can : http://www.cracked.com/article_18460_5-reasons-oscars-matter-even-less-than-you-thought.html
And Moda got our seeds in the mail. She's gonna plant'em now so that they'll be ready to transfer to the big pots come the first real thaws. Pip.
So I wanted to take a quick second to say I'm not gonna bore the pants off of you regarding my race training any longer. Or food. (Two central preoccupations of mine, if you haven't already figured that out.) It's been an age since I've blogged a review/recipe I love so I'm gonna start doing that back over at http://hungryhippopotami.wordpress.com/ From there, you'll get reviews, training info (read: What we're eating for race prep) Garden status, New Recipes, and a melange of other tidbits. We welcome fellow foodies, race/marathon enthusiasts to participate with tips/finds/etc. Love it. (ICYC- Notice how one of the last posts is September? Yeah, there've been a few months. Shup. We're busy pants)
So I watched the Oscar ceremony at FeeJ's last Sunday and boy howdy was I pleased as punch. (You would have to have lived in a cave not to have picked Waltz and Mo'Nique for their supporting roles. Fierce, fierce acting) I've frassed about my theory (as does everybody and their sister) on how flawed the Academy judging process is. (Crowe winning for "Gladiator" when "The Insider" was clearly superior, same with Denzel winning for "Training Day"...Hello? "The Hurricane"? Makes ya weep)
Anyway, today's funny- Cracked clearly can posit their Oscar theories more eloquently than I can : http://www.cracked.com/article_18460_5-reasons-oscars-matter-even-less-than-you-thought.html
Monday, March 08, 2010
Day off'd
Good morning, friends. After a jam-packed weekend of dancing, body-wrecking, murder mysterying, IHOP-ing, and Academy Awarding, buddy boy here is taking the day off. That said, Toplessrobot.com directed me to two of the coolest things ever. The first, is the newest "Iron Man 2" trailer which will, in fact, own you. The commercial alone won the "best commercial" award. Before you were even born. (I'll let y'all look it up. Sufficed to say, it is pretty cool) The second? Sometimes you just happen upon...something. That resonates with your soul. Maybe it's a poem. Or a song. A choice at the buffet. Baby hippos. Uh...why are you so weird? Anyway, I'm pretty damn amazed I didn't discover this little gem sooner. It's under 3 minutes of your life you won't have lived to the fullest until you watch it. Oh, and some NSFW language. And "not safe for life" acting. Wow. Holy balls. For your benefit- The greatest action movie ever:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JTmSJDyav-A
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JTmSJDyav-A
Thursday, March 04, 2010
Eating like a senior citizen
I might as well sign up for AARP right now. In the midst of run training, I had these peculiar cravings pop up here and there. Most training manuals will encourage you to carb up ("CAN DO!") but I've been jonesin' for protein. Shrimp, Pickled Herring, Tofu, Buffalo Spiced Chicken Jerkey nuggets. And the last few mornings, in lieu of my 8AM oatmeal...fat free cottage cheese. Sprinkled with Tabasco.
Sick. Out. Buddy.
It reminds me of my first "punch the clock" job I had out of High School. Working at a Senior Care Center as a Nutrition Aide. (Heretoforewith know as "Kitchen B#tch") It seems Nursing Homes run in the family. Mom is an RN at a NE Mpls facility. One of RSvP's 1st jobs was at the neighborhood Care Center. (Can I tell the story? Okay, so he was "let go", right? He was supposed to be on PA detail to announce dinner to the residents. Except smartie pants says "Could the inmates please report to the cafeteria". I could never tell if dad was pissed or pleased. He seemed a healthy mix of both)
Anyway, the job sucked. And I ran the gamut of injuries. I pulled a basket of hot coffee that hadn't steeped fully on top of my head like I was on a Nickolodeon kids show. I developed a latex allergy from the gloves we were required to wear. (I thought I had leprosy. I took a 3 month sabbatical when I went to work at the "G" and the itchy flaking went away. So, I'd put on a pair of vinyl gloves with latex overs. Smart, I am) Hot steam in the face. Forks in the palm when cleaning off the trays. Toes ran over by huge food carts. It sucked.
What didn't suck? The food. Which we weren't supposed to (by law) eat. But we did. And because it was food for the residents (Heretoforewith referred to as "Sassy Seniors") it was Luh-HOADED with calories. Seriously. Read the side of a Lorna Doone package. Nobody eats that shit except for the Sassy Seniors. One cookie is made with 2 sticks of butter, half a tub of Crisco, and Sugar. Served with an Ensure, you're guaranteed 3,500 calories in one cookie and can!
Our prime targets to sneak the meals were usually: Cheesecake (Lord. I think I inhaled an entire cake within 15 minutes) Fettucine Alfredo, Meatloaf, Chicken Piccata, and Lasagna. We'd scan the weekly menu. You learned when to skip dinner so that you could gorge.
The things we hated? Liver. (And the smell doesn't leave you until you've burned your clothes and bathed in ammonia) And the dreaded lunch prep. Which meant plopping a scoop of jello (Hi-Cal-Jel. One cup had 1,000 calories) pudding (Why I will never eat the filthy stuff, ever again) yogurt (From a gallon jug) annnnnd my favorite: Cottage Cheese.
Which is why it baffles the hell out of me why I'd crave it. After dinner last weekend, Mom and I hit TJ's for snacks. And what'd I get? Fat Free Cottage Cheese. Which is now gone as of Wednesday.
What the hell? Am I pregnant?
Anyway, to celebrate my crappy haircut I received about 3 weeks ago and shows no signs of growing back (For real. I'm scared. I need a pompadour by June) and the cute hair that Moda sports in her latest show. (Go see it. Laugh. And tell your friends. http://www.mixedblood.com/mainstage/somebodynobody/) Well, let's all talk about my new haircut- (Warning- Language NSFW. Definite signs of Douchebaggery.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4JMOh-cul6M
Sick. Out. Buddy.
It reminds me of my first "punch the clock" job I had out of High School. Working at a Senior Care Center as a Nutrition Aide. (Heretoforewith know as "Kitchen B#tch") It seems Nursing Homes run in the family. Mom is an RN at a NE Mpls facility. One of RSvP's 1st jobs was at the neighborhood Care Center. (Can I tell the story? Okay, so he was "let go", right? He was supposed to be on PA detail to announce dinner to the residents. Except smartie pants says "Could the inmates please report to the cafeteria". I could never tell if dad was pissed or pleased. He seemed a healthy mix of both)
Anyway, the job sucked. And I ran the gamut of injuries. I pulled a basket of hot coffee that hadn't steeped fully on top of my head like I was on a Nickolodeon kids show. I developed a latex allergy from the gloves we were required to wear. (I thought I had leprosy. I took a 3 month sabbatical when I went to work at the "G" and the itchy flaking went away. So, I'd put on a pair of vinyl gloves with latex overs. Smart, I am) Hot steam in the face. Forks in the palm when cleaning off the trays. Toes ran over by huge food carts. It sucked.
What didn't suck? The food. Which we weren't supposed to (by law) eat. But we did. And because it was food for the residents (Heretoforewith referred to as "Sassy Seniors") it was Luh-HOADED with calories. Seriously. Read the side of a Lorna Doone package. Nobody eats that shit except for the Sassy Seniors. One cookie is made with 2 sticks of butter, half a tub of Crisco, and Sugar. Served with an Ensure, you're guaranteed 3,500 calories in one cookie and can!
Our prime targets to sneak the meals were usually: Cheesecake (Lord. I think I inhaled an entire cake within 15 minutes) Fettucine Alfredo, Meatloaf, Chicken Piccata, and Lasagna. We'd scan the weekly menu. You learned when to skip dinner so that you could gorge.
The things we hated? Liver. (And the smell doesn't leave you until you've burned your clothes and bathed in ammonia) And the dreaded lunch prep. Which meant plopping a scoop of jello (Hi-Cal-Jel. One cup had 1,000 calories) pudding (Why I will never eat the filthy stuff, ever again) yogurt (From a gallon jug) annnnnd my favorite: Cottage Cheese.
Which is why it baffles the hell out of me why I'd crave it. After dinner last weekend, Mom and I hit TJ's for snacks. And what'd I get? Fat Free Cottage Cheese. Which is now gone as of Wednesday.
What the hell? Am I pregnant?
Anyway, to celebrate my crappy haircut I received about 3 weeks ago and shows no signs of growing back (For real. I'm scared. I need a pompadour by June) and the cute hair that Moda sports in her latest show. (Go see it. Laugh. And tell your friends. http://www.mixedblood.com/mainstage/somebodynobody/) Well, let's all talk about my new haircut- (Warning- Language NSFW. Definite signs of Douchebaggery.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4JMOh-cul6M
Friday, February 26, 2010
The kid (adult) who played "Boner" Stabone on "Growing Pains" was found dead in a park in Vancouver. His old man was Walter Koenig who originated the role of "Chekov" on Star Trek.
http://www.usatoday.com/sports/olympics/vancouver/2010-02-25-andrew-koenig-body-found_N.htm?csp=hf
The article, kinda broke my heart. Depression is kind of a hot button topic for me as it is, having lost two buddies within a matter of a month and a half to suicide. [i] "If you learn anything from this," Koenig said, directing his comments to those who also suffer from depression, "there are people out there who care." "In his pain," Judith Koenig said, "he didn't realize help was available to him."[/i]
http://www.usatoday.com/sports/olympics/vancouver/2010-02-25-andrew-koenig-body-found_N.htm?csp=hf
The article, kinda broke my heart. Depression is kind of a hot button topic for me as it is, having lost two buddies within a matter of a month and a half to suicide. [i] "If you learn anything from this," Koenig said, directing his comments to those who also suffer from depression, "there are people out there who care." "In his pain," Judith Koenig said, "he didn't realize help was available to him."[/i]
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Technology is scary
I found this story kind of interesting.
A few weeks ago, a temp co-worker of mine told me that he and his girlfriend met another couple downtown for drinks. They split up at the end of the night and his buddy + fiancee were walking home across the Henn. Ave bridge toward Riverplace when a guy on a bike stole her purse. They reported it, but the cops said there was probably nothing they'd be able to do. Now, the couple had recently purchased a set of those new fangle GPS cell phones and for a lark decided to see if they could locate her phone on the web.
And they did. South Minneapolis residence.
So they called the cops. Cops said "Sorry. Can't help you." So he calls up my co-worker and they go to the dudes house. In the foyer, they saw the bike. (I guess it was a yellow mountain bike) And they knocked on the door. They asked the guy that answered if he knew of any stolen property and (of course) he said he had no idea what they were talking about. They told them they had traced the purse to this location using the GPS and they'd be happy to call the police to inform them and he still (of course) balked. They thanked him and left.
Annnnd from their truck around the corner, on his GPS, a neat little signal left the front of the property they were just at as they watched him walk around the corner and leave. A little while later, they traced the phone to an alley and found it in an upturned recycling bin. Another call to the cops to confirm their suspicions and again, the officer said there was nothing they could do. So the fiancee' did the only sensible thing, she wrote the press.
And good old KARE 11 jumped on it. http://www.kare11.com/news/news_article.aspx?storyid=842648
(ps- I don't condone the confrontation, as the cops were very right in saying it could turned into a potentially dangerous situation. I just thought this was cool how the GPS was kind of like a Spider-Tracer. I also still think it's f#cked up that any cell phone users can be found. Spooky) +
***UPDATE***
Said co-worker told me this morning that the PO-lice are launching an investigation into the home and individual residing there in relation to potential criminal activities. Which I'm certain has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that this story received media coverage.
Nothing at all.
A few weeks ago, a temp co-worker of mine told me that he and his girlfriend met another couple downtown for drinks. They split up at the end of the night and his buddy + fiancee were walking home across the Henn. Ave bridge toward Riverplace when a guy on a bike stole her purse. They reported it, but the cops said there was probably nothing they'd be able to do. Now, the couple had recently purchased a set of those new fangle GPS cell phones and for a lark decided to see if they could locate her phone on the web.
And they did. South Minneapolis residence.
So they called the cops. Cops said "Sorry. Can't help you." So he calls up my co-worker and they go to the dudes house. In the foyer, they saw the bike. (I guess it was a yellow mountain bike) And they knocked on the door. They asked the guy that answered if he knew of any stolen property and (of course) he said he had no idea what they were talking about. They told them they had traced the purse to this location using the GPS and they'd be happy to call the police to inform them and he still (of course) balked. They thanked him and left.
Annnnd from their truck around the corner, on his GPS, a neat little signal left the front of the property they were just at as they watched him walk around the corner and leave. A little while later, they traced the phone to an alley and found it in an upturned recycling bin. Another call to the cops to confirm their suspicions and again, the officer said there was nothing they could do. So the fiancee' did the only sensible thing, she wrote the press.
And good old KARE 11 jumped on it. http://www.kare11.com/news/news_article.aspx?storyid=842648
(ps- I don't condone the confrontation, as the cops were very right in saying it could turned into a potentially dangerous situation. I just thought this was cool how the GPS was kind of like a Spider-Tracer. I also still think it's f#cked up that any cell phone users can be found. Spooky) +
***UPDATE***
Said co-worker told me this morning that the PO-lice are launching an investigation into the home and individual residing there in relation to potential criminal activities. Which I'm certain has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that this story received media coverage.
Nothing at all.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Lent, Lending, Loaned
(Semi-retraction: You know that Optimistic Ollie post from yesterday? The one how "Snow isn't gonna defeat me, no sir or ma'am!" Yeah, well...ask me if I feel the same way during the always faithful wet mushy snow storms that hit in March during the High School tourneys. I'm start b#tching, again, and y'all are gonna be like "Hey P- Want us to pass the ketchup? Sure you don't want anything for those words?!?!" 'Cause, like...I'm gonna eat my, you know? Shut up. Just shut up.)
Soooooo...Moda has just informed me that she's giving up cheese for Lent. (Who she's Lending her cheese to is a mystery. It's my understanding that the Lord was more of a pescatarian and possibly lactose intolerant) Personally, and not that I'm doubting her resolve (as this isn't a Cathololic practice per se, rather using the Lenten period of 40 days as an experiement) For my part, I will eat her cheese and do my best to not order Luce' or make fondue. Won't. What I might try is 86'ing alcohol for the similar period. If my big brother can do it for the duration of his wife's two pregnancies then I figure I should be good to go. Maybe. What about recipes? My GOD!!!
She (The crazy one. The one giving up, I mean COME ON!?!? CHEESE! This is the woman who is on a first name basis with the cheese counter employee's at Lunds!) Anyway, she enrolled in her first 1/2 marathon (I'd do the same, but I'm waiting on my meager tax return) The both of us are already upping the number of minutes/mileage on the treadmill and we might even partake in the training club that preps for the race starting in April. At any rate, cutting out booze will hopefully benefit training. I think.
I mean...beer. You know? It's delicious. And the Lord put back a pint or two of veeno.
Sheesh.
So, today's fun-fun-funny theme will be sports/training minded. And you all, all two of you readers, will be offering me moral encouragement.
CAN YOU RUN FASTER THAN KENYANS?!?!?! And when God gives you lemons you FIND A NEW GOD!!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qRuNxHqwazs
and part 2
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-3qncy5Qfk
Soooooo...Moda has just informed me that she's giving up cheese for Lent. (Who she's Lending her cheese to is a mystery. It's my understanding that the Lord was more of a pescatarian and possibly lactose intolerant) Personally, and not that I'm doubting her resolve (as this isn't a Cathololic practice per se, rather using the Lenten period of 40 days as an experiement) For my part, I will eat her cheese and do my best to not order Luce' or make fondue. Won't. What I might try is 86'ing alcohol for the similar period. If my big brother can do it for the duration of his wife's two pregnancies then I figure I should be good to go. Maybe. What about recipes? My GOD!!!
She (The crazy one. The one giving up, I mean COME ON!?!? CHEESE! This is the woman who is on a first name basis with the cheese counter employee's at Lunds!) Anyway, she enrolled in her first 1/2 marathon (I'd do the same, but I'm waiting on my meager tax return) The both of us are already upping the number of minutes/mileage on the treadmill and we might even partake in the training club that preps for the race starting in April. At any rate, cutting out booze will hopefully benefit training. I think.
I mean...beer. You know? It's delicious. And the Lord put back a pint or two of veeno.
Sheesh.
So, today's fun-fun-funny theme will be sports/training minded. And you all, all two of you readers, will be offering me moral encouragement.
CAN YOU RUN FASTER THAN KENYANS?!?!?! And when God gives you lemons you FIND A NEW GOD!!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qRuNxHqwazs
and part 2
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-3qncy5Qfk
This kinda makes me happy
Moda and I checked this place out a few months back. It's right around the corner from my place and the food is excellent for such a non-descript building. I'm hoping to get back for dinner some time. (We hit the weekend brunch)
http://www.citypages.com/2010-02-17/restaurants/chimborazo-and-cocina-latina-showcase-ecuador-s-hearty-fare/
http://www.citypages.com/2010-02-17/restaurants/chimborazo-and-cocina-latina-showcase-ecuador-s-hearty-fare/
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Kicking winter in the face.
You know, since enacting the parking ban in Mipples I've been missing "my" spot in front of my house. Of course it's enacted the first time the "even" side of the street is clear. It's just...so pristine. There was one a$$hole who parked there though. The day of the ban, this enormous Toyota SUV planted itself in front of my house. After a few days, my roommate and I bumped into each other in the morning he RAILED against winter and the aforementioned A-hole- going so far as to threaten calling 9-1-1. (I asked him to please not)
We had yet another snowfall overnight on V-Day and when I woke up early to shovel the walk and brush off Moda and the Bean's respective vehicles there was the behemoth under a mound of snow. So sneaky bastard that I am, I walked over and in big block letters on the driver side window I wrote "ILLEGAL". Sure as s#it when I got home? Gone. Yeeeeah b#tches.
The weather has mellowed a bit which for mid-February is doing awesome things for my mood. On my way around the block the other night to meet Moda @Wilde Roast for dinner I made the resolution to not let the frakkin' winter get to me anymore. Refuse. So I went in the back yard the next day (I was home sick) and trunched out to the back yard where a couple of widowmaker icicles had been bugging me since I first saw them. (Huge, they were. At least 4.5 feet long. And reminded me of an old "Peanuts" cartoon where Snoopy was trapped in his dog house for fear of a widowmaker falling if he made a false move. He eventually did, of course, when Charlie Brown called him for supper. The destruction of his dog house/imaginary Sopwith Camel bi-plane was a small price to pay for congealed Alpo served by a prematurely bald 2nd grader who only owns one shirt.)
Anyway, instead of breaking off they actually slid off with little or no finesse- Clearing the gutter and keeping the shingles in tact. Score.
So a list of Spring/Summer projects is already coming to mind, including new blow-in insulation to help with the chilly main-level discrepancy. Lists of recipes to cook, restaurants to try, things to plant. (I was decluttering this weekend and found the 2010 garden plot)
Yeah. I might be poor. I may end up spending part of June in Bemidji. But dammit...I will be productive.
For your enjoyment, my two favorite Auto-Tune the Newses. (Watch all of'em if you can. They're pretty dang funny)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1dqTrUpmwPg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sCCuOrRzoSc
We had yet another snowfall overnight on V-Day and when I woke up early to shovel the walk and brush off Moda and the Bean's respective vehicles there was the behemoth under a mound of snow. So sneaky bastard that I am, I walked over and in big block letters on the driver side window I wrote "ILLEGAL". Sure as s#it when I got home? Gone. Yeeeeah b#tches.
The weather has mellowed a bit which for mid-February is doing awesome things for my mood. On my way around the block the other night to meet Moda @Wilde Roast for dinner I made the resolution to not let the frakkin' winter get to me anymore. Refuse. So I went in the back yard the next day (I was home sick) and trunched out to the back yard where a couple of widowmaker icicles had been bugging me since I first saw them. (Huge, they were. At least 4.5 feet long. And reminded me of an old "Peanuts" cartoon where Snoopy was trapped in his dog house for fear of a widowmaker falling if he made a false move. He eventually did, of course, when Charlie Brown called him for supper. The destruction of his dog house/imaginary Sopwith Camel bi-plane was a small price to pay for congealed Alpo served by a prematurely bald 2nd grader who only owns one shirt.)
Anyway, instead of breaking off they actually slid off with little or no finesse- Clearing the gutter and keeping the shingles in tact. Score.
So a list of Spring/Summer projects is already coming to mind, including new blow-in insulation to help with the chilly main-level discrepancy. Lists of recipes to cook, restaurants to try, things to plant. (I was decluttering this weekend and found the 2010 garden plot)
Yeah. I might be poor. I may end up spending part of June in Bemidji. But dammit...I will be productive.
For your enjoyment, my two favorite Auto-Tune the Newses. (Watch all of'em if you can. They're pretty dang funny)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1dqTrUpmwPg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sCCuOrRzoSc
Friday, February 12, 2010
Million Dollar Idea/Spreading the awkwardness
With the driving snow this messy, awful winter without end (and really? We've had frack all bad winters for the last 4 years. '06/'07/'08 were all ridiculously cold and managed to hold on into April. '09 we managed to really never escape winter until August. A few lousy days in August.) has got folks in a righteous funk. Yesterday I woke up to a dry erase board that had a tirade against the winter written by my roommate and he was no sooner downstairs than he was full of piss and vinegar against (Insert winter insanity here: Other drivers, people who are parking on the "even" side during our citywide parking ban, below zero temps, etc.)
My current problem is the pothole situation, which seems to have grown arguably worse this year in Mipples. For example, there's one on the intersection of 18th and Johnson that seems like someone left a manhole uncovered. And on my way to the office, there's a gash that runs almost straight across the street. Practically unavoidable. (I'll refrain from describing the minefield which lies in front of the Walker about the area of the Henn/Lyn split, but it's a dooze)
My million dollar idea, was that wouldn't it be great if someone could find an expanding filler-just to get us through winter- that had a non-toxic liquid agent that could be applied when the weather improved which would then dissolve it. Freeing the pothole to be filled with patch.
Genius, right? I know, I know...they already have something that'd work. It's callled "sand".
The warm fuzzies continue today with another website I enjoy frequenting: Awkward Family Photo's. (This too, is a dooze. And makes me laugh almost every time)
(*The above awkward photo was taken in 1987 in Cody, WY. I kept the more scandalous one of RSvP and I where he's wearing a crop-top with short-shorts and the fedora. For my part, my fashion sense was highly motivated by the mighty "jams". I probably had 5-6 pair with matching tank top. All the better to accentuate mah belleh!)
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
That's more like it...
The plows came through, and for the first time since early December I can park reasonably close to the curb in front of my house. This is all spectacular until I found out the city of Mipples has declared a parking BAN on the even side of the street (where you live) until---wait for it---APRIL!!! (Or the first significant thaw. Regardless)
Today's smile inducing video is brought to you by the letter "Dolph". I was a true cold war kid, and in my mind nothing really captures the fervor we as a nation shared in kickin' commie Russky butt than in our celluloid fantasies. "Red Dawn", "Spies Like Us", "No Way Out", even "Yakov Smirnov in Concert" were all ways we could, as a country, feel like we were stemming the tide of communism. And it felt GOOD! RAHHHH!!! And nothing, I mean nothing encapsulated that pro-USA-Soviet-butt-kicking mania than "Rocky wha?" Nooooo, "Rocky IV".
(Many film scholars may argue that the 1st Rocky, being as it was a true "indie" film which garnered praise from many at the Academy, is the best in the series. With the most recent "Rocky Balboa" capturing the essence of the first film, the heart of the first film.
Other, smarter, individuals will clearly cry "THREE" as the winner of the franchise- acting as both a mainstream impetus to bring professional Wrestling back into the spotlight and birthed a generation of mohawked fool-pitiers. And a sweet soundtrack by "Survivor".)
For my part, both of them would be pretty close. "Rocky IV" though? Forget Mickey, yo. He lost Apollo! While he and James Brown looked on impotently. And he beat the steroid pumping spikey blonde behemoth who towered at least 6 feet over Rocky! And he had state of the art training facilities while Rocky had a barn. A BARN! And he WON! And he got Brigitte Nielsen out of the deal...at least until after the movie "Cobra" wrapped.
So yeah. Dolph. Total bad-ass. And we read up on this guy. And it turns out acting was some sort of back up plan. He was a world-class tournament winning karate practitioner (See "Showdown in Little Tokyo" for reference and co-starring a very young Brandon Lee) which we were like "Duh" yeah. He's big and he can FIGHT!
But this yahoo is apparently a genius. Literally. Like, PhD from Smorgenborgen University in advanced Hoo-Ha Scientificity Rim-Ram. (Blah. Read about the guy here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dolph_Lundgren)
So yeah. Watch this guy. I think my brain just exploded. He can now add "Singer/Dancer/Drummer" to his already impressive resume of "Actor/Martial Artist/Master's in Chemical Engineering/Olympic Pentathelete Activist-Coordinator".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mHtatY7bOUY
Today's smile inducing video is brought to you by the letter "Dolph". I was a true cold war kid, and in my mind nothing really captures the fervor we as a nation shared in kickin' commie Russky butt than in our celluloid fantasies. "Red Dawn", "Spies Like Us", "No Way Out", even "Yakov Smirnov in Concert" were all ways we could, as a country, feel like we were stemming the tide of communism. And it felt GOOD! RAHHHH!!! And nothing, I mean nothing encapsulated that pro-USA-Soviet-butt-kicking mania than "Rocky wha?" Nooooo, "Rocky IV".
(Many film scholars may argue that the 1st Rocky, being as it was a true "indie" film which garnered praise from many at the Academy, is the best in the series. With the most recent "Rocky Balboa" capturing the essence of the first film, the heart of the first film.
Other, smarter, individuals will clearly cry "THREE" as the winner of the franchise- acting as both a mainstream impetus to bring professional Wrestling back into the spotlight and birthed a generation of mohawked fool-pitiers. And a sweet soundtrack by "Survivor".)
For my part, both of them would be pretty close. "Rocky IV" though? Forget Mickey, yo. He lost Apollo! While he and James Brown looked on impotently. And he beat the steroid pumping spikey blonde behemoth who towered at least 6 feet over Rocky! And he had state of the art training facilities while Rocky had a barn. A BARN! And he WON! And he got Brigitte Nielsen out of the deal...at least until after the movie "Cobra" wrapped.
So yeah. Dolph. Total bad-ass. And we read up on this guy. And it turns out acting was some sort of back up plan. He was a world-class tournament winning karate practitioner (See "Showdown in Little Tokyo" for reference and co-starring a very young Brandon Lee) which we were like "Duh" yeah. He's big and he can FIGHT!
But this yahoo is apparently a genius. Literally. Like, PhD from Smorgenborgen University in advanced Hoo-Ha Scientificity Rim-Ram. (Blah. Read about the guy here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dolph_Lundgren)
So yeah. Watch this guy. I think my brain just exploded. He can now add "Singer/Dancer/Drummer" to his already impressive resume of "Actor/Martial Artist/Master's in Chemical Engineering/Olympic Pentathelete Activist-Coordinator".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mHtatY7bOUY
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
We've arrived
Mid-February. As timing goes, this is about the point during the winter I want to give Mother Nature the finger. The winter wonderland is no longer charming. The biting cold. The lack of traction...grrr.
In the last 48 hours, I've shovelled my walkway 4 times. I've seen how the neighbor at the corner of the street conspicuously plows, almost deliberately mind you, from the corner to the two houses next store and then STOPS right before mine. On Caturday, after an eventful decluttering/house cleaning day I decided to get the last vestiges of snow off the walk (marking shovel-fest #5) before the temps started dropping. Welll, lo and behold when I went to my car the city plows must have came through and pushed an icy barrier around my ride. (And with the temps falling, these formerly slushy gray hockey pucks froze solid) So I chipped and shoveled and miraculously didn't fall but miraculously put out my lower back. (Getting in and out of the car was fun) and discovered I have little traction going up the slick hills which permeate my neighborhood.
Grrr. WHOSE RESPONSIBLE THIS?!?!?
So I'm changing tactics on my blog for a while. I refuse to let this weather bring me down and plan on focusing on the positive. (And not March's reliable 3 weekends of winter storms which always happen during the State High School Sports Tourney's) I will be posting funny links etc. that always manage to make me laugh starting with this gem Moda found and posted on Frassbook. You...you know you've wanted to learn how to do this:
Cat Massage
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TnZhi5gaX8g&feature=autofb
In the last 48 hours, I've shovelled my walkway 4 times. I've seen how the neighbor at the corner of the street conspicuously plows, almost deliberately mind you, from the corner to the two houses next store and then STOPS right before mine. On Caturday, after an eventful decluttering/house cleaning day I decided to get the last vestiges of snow off the walk (marking shovel-fest #5) before the temps started dropping. Welll, lo and behold when I went to my car the city plows must have came through and pushed an icy barrier around my ride. (And with the temps falling, these formerly slushy gray hockey pucks froze solid) So I chipped and shoveled and miraculously didn't fall but miraculously put out my lower back. (Getting in and out of the car was fun) and discovered I have little traction going up the slick hills which permeate my neighborhood.
Grrr. WHOSE RESPONSIBLE THIS?!?!?
So I'm changing tactics on my blog for a while. I refuse to let this weather bring me down and plan on focusing on the positive. (And not March's reliable 3 weekends of winter storms which always happen during the State High School Sports Tourney's) I will be posting funny links etc. that always manage to make me laugh starting with this gem Moda found and posted on Frassbook. You...you know you've wanted to learn how to do this:
Cat Massage
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TnZhi5gaX8g&feature=autofb
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