At work, there are instructions for making a SINGLE pot of coffee that include the phrase "ten scoops."
Yeah, I don't usually drink the coffee here for exactly that reason, but it was foggy and gross on the way to work so I needed a little pick-me-up. What a mistake. I have a severe problem with concentration when I have this much caffeine in my system, so I thought I'd write this quick post on my lunch break:
1. I commuted via bicycle to work for the first time on Wednesday! I only almost killed myself once, and only got lost once. It was exciting and I burned an extra 1000 calories in one day, which I then consumed at Treat, an Indian fusion restaurant in Logan Square. Delish, and free, as a late birthday present from Kaye.
2. On Tuesday, I ran 12.5 miles. which means I'm not going to die during the Fargo Half Marathon. Yippee! My goal is to run the half in under 2 hours---it will all depend on the adrenaline.
Which I have plenty of now, thanks to the coffee. Back to life, back to reality.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
doh.
I made a bunch of dough this Sunday. See the results below.
I also made scones. They were delicious. And here is the recipe, straight from everybodylikessandwiches.com:
fruit scones
1/2 c milk
1 egg
2 c flour
2 t baking powder
½ t salt
1/4 c cold butter, cubed
3 T white sugar
2 large handfuls of frozen blackberries
1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit. Whisk the milk and the egg together until frothy and then set aside. In a large bowl, blend the flour, baking powder, and salt. Add the butter and blend the mixture with your hands until you have no lumps larger than a pea. Add the sugar and the blackberries and toss about until the blackberries are coated with the flour mixture. Add the egg mixture slowly until the dough comes together. Leave any remaining egg mixture to brush on as glaze.
2. Turn dough out onto a clean counter and knead it no more than 12 times. Pat dough into a round approximately 1/2 an inch thick, and cut into 8 wedges. Place on an ungreased baking sheet or a Silpat. Using a pastry brush, glaze wedges with remaining egg mixture. Bake for 10-15 minutes, or until golden. Cool on a wire rack.
I added an extra tablespoon of sugar and substituted fresh strawberries instead of frozen blackberries. Very good. I think I'll go eat the last one right now. MMMmmm. Butterfloursugar.
I also made scones. They were delicious. And here is the recipe, straight from everybodylikessandwiches.com:
fruit scones
1/2 c milk
1 egg
2 c flour
2 t baking powder
½ t salt
1/4 c cold butter, cubed
3 T white sugar
2 large handfuls of frozen blackberries
1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit. Whisk the milk and the egg together until frothy and then set aside. In a large bowl, blend the flour, baking powder, and salt. Add the butter and blend the mixture with your hands until you have no lumps larger than a pea. Add the sugar and the blackberries and toss about until the blackberries are coated with the flour mixture. Add the egg mixture slowly until the dough comes together. Leave any remaining egg mixture to brush on as glaze.
2. Turn dough out onto a clean counter and knead it no more than 12 times. Pat dough into a round approximately 1/2 an inch thick, and cut into 8 wedges. Place on an ungreased baking sheet or a Silpat. Using a pastry brush, glaze wedges with remaining egg mixture. Bake for 10-15 minutes, or until golden. Cool on a wire rack.
I added an extra tablespoon of sugar and substituted fresh strawberries instead of frozen blackberries. Very good. I think I'll go eat the last one right now. MMMmmm. Butterfloursugar.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
new shoes! cool runnings?
Five great things about running with Ruth.
1. I got new running shoes. I wore them for the first time this morning. And wow. They have so much more support than the old shoes, which are exactly the same brand/model, but I literally RAN THEM OUT. I am THAT good.
2. I ran 9 miles last week, and I'm planning to run another 11 either tomorrow or Monday or Tuesday. If I run them on Monday or Tuesday, I can run them by the lake, and wouldn't that be nice?
3. I learned my lesson and will wear body glide on any run over 6 miles.
4. The more I run, the better my knees are. I don't even ice them (much) anymore, and when I do, I usually end up getting distracted and not running at all, like I did on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday of this week. My knees seem to be sending secret messages to my brain, which I am not allowed to contribute to but am included in on as a third party listener: as long as she keeps running every day, we'll take it easy on her. Keep her running on boulevards, stretching, and doing lunges after every run, and we'll call it even. Sincerely, Grapefruit Knees.
5. The Fargo Marathon is in two short weeks! Ho Lee COW. I'm so excited. My brothers and my sister-in-law are all returning to Fargo to run it. I also know two first timers: Jen Collins, who is also raising money for cancer research in memory of her father; and my in-law, Jessica Hubner, all the way from southern Minnesota. Yayyyyyyy first timers! You will love it!
a. Tips for beginners --- get body glide. Put it everywhere a seam or line of fabric touches your skin, including your toes. Drink every cup of water that is handed to you. Don't let your family/friends meet you at every single mile, it will make it seem longer. Get a good nights sleep, and eat something you would normally eat for breakfast. Jog a mile before the starting line to warm up. For training, if you have one day where you could rather scoop out your eyes with a grapefruit spoon than run a mile, stay in. You'll just end up dreading every run that week. And most important...plan a day of eating and laying around after your race. AND the day of the race, at the race, wear your medal, so that other runners can congratulate you and ask you how you did. You can take it off when you get home. It's up to you if you want to wear it in the car. --- tips courtesy of Aaron Meberg, Kate Nydam Meberg, and Dave Meberg.
1. I got new running shoes. I wore them for the first time this morning. And wow. They have so much more support than the old shoes, which are exactly the same brand/model, but I literally RAN THEM OUT. I am THAT good.
2. I ran 9 miles last week, and I'm planning to run another 11 either tomorrow or Monday or Tuesday. If I run them on Monday or Tuesday, I can run them by the lake, and wouldn't that be nice?
3. I learned my lesson and will wear body glide on any run over 6 miles.
4. The more I run, the better my knees are. I don't even ice them (much) anymore, and when I do, I usually end up getting distracted and not running at all, like I did on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday of this week. My knees seem to be sending secret messages to my brain, which I am not allowed to contribute to but am included in on as a third party listener: as long as she keeps running every day, we'll take it easy on her. Keep her running on boulevards, stretching, and doing lunges after every run, and we'll call it even. Sincerely, Grapefruit Knees.
5. The Fargo Marathon is in two short weeks! Ho Lee COW. I'm so excited. My brothers and my sister-in-law are all returning to Fargo to run it. I also know two first timers: Jen Collins, who is also raising money for cancer research in memory of her father; and my in-law, Jessica Hubner, all the way from southern Minnesota. Yayyyyyyy first timers! You will love it!
a. Tips for beginners --- get body glide. Put it everywhere a seam or line of fabric touches your skin, including your toes. Drink every cup of water that is handed to you. Don't let your family/friends meet you at every single mile, it will make it seem longer. Get a good nights sleep, and eat something you would normally eat for breakfast. Jog a mile before the starting line to warm up. For training, if you have one day where you could rather scoop out your eyes with a grapefruit spoon than run a mile, stay in. You'll just end up dreading every run that week. And most important...plan a day of eating and laying around after your race. AND the day of the race, at the race, wear your medal, so that other runners can congratulate you and ask you how you did. You can take it off when you get home. It's up to you if you want to wear it in the car. --- tips courtesy of Aaron Meberg, Kate Nydam Meberg, and Dave Meberg.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
It's Easter already? YESSSS.
Oh ho ho, you missed Easter. Let's just say it started out with THIS:
Cranberry Red Roast Braised Pork Should from Chef Ming. Only took six hours. Totally worth it. Oh yes, I also made steamed biscuits. Sooo tasty with the smoky, steamy, rich, berry-licious pork).
And then there was this for the vegans in attendance! My first attempt at curry turned out well---potatos, cauliflour, carrots, onions, coconut milk, curry --- don't just stand there! GO! It was so good I made another batch on Monday to take to work all week.
We also had some friends in town! Fargo Liz, Birthday Buddy James, Catherine, and new friend Leah, who taught me how to blanch green vegetables. As I was cooking the whole time they visited, they were forced to drink sangria for several hours straight with no entertainment other than avoiding the random Facebook attendee at the cocktail hour (don't ask). Until I introduced them to the many desserts on hand, including vegan stout chocolate cupcakes (brought by the vegans, so amazing), and the two desserts I made:
Amy Sedaris's Lady Baltimore Cake, featured on the Martha Stuart Show, and...
The first ever Dessert Ham. It should be added to your menu like coffee and pie, something to be nibbled on if you have any available space left in that belly after hours of sitting and eating idly. Lovely, covered in brown sugar, cloves, cranberries, and orange juice. Mmmmahhhhhhh.
Oh, but how do we work it off? Okay, we don't. But we do play musical chairs every Easter. And this year I was not surprised to see the best card players I know, Kaye and Liz, vying for the title (Liz won, not surprised. She's cunning).
I'm still working on finishing off the cake. Working hard. Really, really hard. And look! Mike made a new friend.
Cranberry Red Roast Braised Pork Should from Chef Ming. Only took six hours. Totally worth it. Oh yes, I also made steamed biscuits. Sooo tasty with the smoky, steamy, rich, berry-licious pork).
And then there was this for the vegans in attendance! My first attempt at curry turned out well---potatos, cauliflour, carrots, onions, coconut milk, curry --- don't just stand there! GO! It was so good I made another batch on Monday to take to work all week.We also had some friends in town! Fargo Liz, Birthday Buddy James, Catherine, and new friend Leah, who taught me how to blanch green vegetables. As I was cooking the whole time they visited, they were forced to drink sangria for several hours straight with no entertainment other than avoiding the random Facebook attendee at the cocktail hour (don't ask). Until I introduced them to the many desserts on hand, including vegan stout chocolate cupcakes (brought by the vegans, so amazing), and the two desserts I made:
Amy Sedaris's Lady Baltimore Cake, featured on the Martha Stuart Show, and...
The first ever Dessert Ham. It should be added to your menu like coffee and pie, something to be nibbled on if you have any available space left in that belly after hours of sitting and eating idly. Lovely, covered in brown sugar, cloves, cranberries, and orange juice. Mmmmahhhhhhh.
Oh, but how do we work it off? Okay, we don't. But we do play musical chairs every Easter. And this year I was not surprised to see the best card players I know, Kaye and Liz, vying for the title (Liz won, not surprised. She's cunning).I'm still working on finishing off the cake. Working hard. Really, really hard. And look! Mike made a new friend.
Monday, April 13, 2009
WHY DIDN'T I LEARN THIS IN BUSINESS SCHOOL?
I feel like people in Marketing are a little crazy. Like, "four dollar business cards" crazy. Like, "you're obviously not an accountant" crazy.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Happy Birthday with Sushi.
Tim and I have learned so much about each other in Chicago. I have learned to control my temper, and Tim has learned that I value gifts where time and thought have been used in large amounts, instead of a book from Barnes and Noble.
So for my birthday this year he cleaned the entire house (!!!), made me a pan of brownies, and asked our friend Mai (a real oriental! ha ha, she loves it when I say that) to teach us how to make sushi, something I've wanted to do since I bought him a sushi making kit in 2005. She took him shopping and then came over last night. IT WAS AWESOME. And I'm having sushi for lunch. Here are some of Mai's tips for sushi:
Meat: get frozen tuna steaks. Tuna that is thawed has already been frozen at least once, so the frozen stuff will taste better. Imitation crab is cheaper at an Asian Market than your usual grocery store.
Veggies: Avocados and a cucumber are good to start with. Cut them so they will look pretty when they are cross-sectioned in the sushi roll.
Rice: Buy the good stuff at a food market, it's the most important part of the sushi roll. We got Nashiki medium grain rice, five pounds for $6. I made two cups and it was enough for about 10-12 rolls. Also, get Japanese rice vinegar---the taste is important.
Step by step: I made the rice as the package directed. After it was done, we spread it out and cut it repeatedly to get the heat out. Mai also poured in several tablespoons of the vinegar and cut it in, just so we could taste it but it wasn't overpowering. The rice was really sticky.
I started cutting up veggies and meat. The imitation crab was cut into strips, but most of the tuna was minced for a spicy tuna mixture, using mayonnaise, soy sauce, and Srirachi chili sauce to taste.
Now came the tricky part. We layed out the bamboo rolling mats and cut out a small sheet of Seran Wrap, folded a sea weed sheet in half, and placed it shiny side down, so the rice is on the rough side. Then we spread the rice out thinly and evenly, leaving a little overhang on the longer sides so they would bond together better. See? Aren't we cute?
The next part gets a little tricky. Basically, you use the Seran Wrap to keep your rice from sticking to the mat. We flipped the seaweed/rice over after patting it down, and then we were ready for our ingredients. We did combos of everything we had, and then Mai showed me how to fold the roll so the edges meet while keeping the meat and veggies in their rightful place. The hardest part then is packing the rolls together, sort of in a square shape, so that the rice sticks together and doesn't fall apart after you slice it.
See also mixed in some wasabi with the soy sauce, so delicious. After about I had a couple rolls under my belt (heh!) I attempted a trifecta: tuna, avocado, AND cucumber. And it worked! I am the queen of sushi.
Tim had already left to see a Bill Frissell concert, so after we ate about three rolls each and cleaned up, Mai and I finished off the wine and birthday brownies with Kaye and watched those snazzy Isabella Rosselli biology films on Sundance.com everyone is so excited about. What a great way to celebrate another year of life! Happy Birthday to my one and only twin brother Aaron (I'm bringing your very humble birthday gift to the Fargo Marathon) and baby Ben, who still craps his pants. YOU LOSE!
So for my birthday this year he cleaned the entire house (!!!), made me a pan of brownies, and asked our friend Mai (a real oriental! ha ha, she loves it when I say that) to teach us how to make sushi, something I've wanted to do since I bought him a sushi making kit in 2005. She took him shopping and then came over last night. IT WAS AWESOME. And I'm having sushi for lunch. Here are some of Mai's tips for sushi:
Meat: get frozen tuna steaks. Tuna that is thawed has already been frozen at least once, so the frozen stuff will taste better. Imitation crab is cheaper at an Asian Market than your usual grocery store.
Veggies: Avocados and a cucumber are good to start with. Cut them so they will look pretty when they are cross-sectioned in the sushi roll.
Rice: Buy the good stuff at a food market, it's the most important part of the sushi roll. We got Nashiki medium grain rice, five pounds for $6. I made two cups and it was enough for about 10-12 rolls. Also, get Japanese rice vinegar---the taste is important.
Step by step: I made the rice as the package directed. After it was done, we spread it out and cut it repeatedly to get the heat out. Mai also poured in several tablespoons of the vinegar and cut it in, just so we could taste it but it wasn't overpowering. The rice was really sticky.
I started cutting up veggies and meat. The imitation crab was cut into strips, but most of the tuna was minced for a spicy tuna mixture, using mayonnaise, soy sauce, and Srirachi chili sauce to taste.
Now came the tricky part. We layed out the bamboo rolling mats and cut out a small sheet of Seran Wrap, folded a sea weed sheet in half, and placed it shiny side down, so the rice is on the rough side. Then we spread the rice out thinly and evenly, leaving a little overhang on the longer sides so they would bond together better. See? Aren't we cute?
The next part gets a little tricky. Basically, you use the Seran Wrap to keep your rice from sticking to the mat. We flipped the seaweed/rice over after patting it down, and then we were ready for our ingredients. We did combos of everything we had, and then Mai showed me how to fold the roll so the edges meet while keeping the meat and veggies in their rightful place. The hardest part then is packing the rolls together, sort of in a square shape, so that the rice sticks together and doesn't fall apart after you slice it.
See also mixed in some wasabi with the soy sauce, so delicious. After about I had a couple rolls under my belt (heh!) I attempted a trifecta: tuna, avocado, AND cucumber. And it worked! I am the queen of sushi.
Tim had already left to see a Bill Frissell concert, so after we ate about three rolls each and cleaned up, Mai and I finished off the wine and birthday brownies with Kaye and watched those snazzy Isabella Rosselli biology films on Sundance.com everyone is so excited about. What a great way to celebrate another year of life! Happy Birthday to my one and only twin brother Aaron (I'm bringing your very humble birthday gift to the Fargo Marathon) and baby Ben, who still craps his pants. YOU LOSE!
Friday, April 10, 2009
Missing in the missus.
We've been in Chicago for almost a year, which means it's been about three years since I left behind Fargo and all the friends and memories that came with it. Some of the friends left earlier than I did, and we try to keep in touch. But these are the type of friends that have seen me at my worst, especially Alana, Morgan, and Liz, and still like me. I think. The sort of person that you could be away from for eight years and jump right back into the same stream of sarcasm, gossip, or family stories that you left off with. So important.
I'm having some friends over for Easter on Sunday, and when I was lying awake last night, I found myself wishing that they could ALL be with me, not just one of them (which I do appreciate). Because when I am around these people, I forget about all the complaining, agonizing, and short-lived excitement that tends to get done with friends you see daily. You are just happy to BE with them, SEE them, bask in their greatness.
Hello friends. I miss you very much.
Alana was the first person I took a compliment from seriously. First mature teenager I ever met, first fellow female bass player. In college, we survived being roommates and continued for the next few years to call each other when things either got really scary or really good, as if we were both the only peers that would take each other seriously and without judgement. I called her when I met Tim and realized it was going to stick. First person I think of I think of Bismarck, ND. I hope there is a day when we are making tiny peanut butter sandwiches together, because I remember her telling me that was her goal in life while we were in high school listening to Sleater-Kinney and most likely breaking several laws.
Morgan was the first person that I met as a stranger, assumed she was too cool to be my friend, and then became one of those friends you hang out with in pajamas to watch two consecutive ANTM marathons on VH-1. She seemed to be one of those people that was always in the eye of the storm---calm when others were crazy or stupid. So she could always relate the best gossip later on. She's someone who deserves only the best and I feel very protective of her because I want her to have THE BEST in everything, but I'm not sure why I feel so strongly about this, so differently than I feel about other friends. Also, she's a romantic, and there are so few of us closet romantics left. For instance, I know what song will be playing when she dances with her husband for the first time at her wedding.
Julia, I can't remember how we met. It seemed to be extremely organic. She is the first person that made me realize that I was MORE ME when I was around her. Very Midwest, very comfortable, very creative, very courageous. She embraces craziness in others as only few can, professionally and personally. I have every confidence in her to do whatever she wants, with whoever she wants, and whenever she wants. She also has a pterodactyl cat and was like, isn't this great? Check it out! Extra toes! This can only mean good things! Out of every person I know, she makes me feel the best about myself and others around me. When I see her I immediately want to hug her, pick her up, spin in a circle, and hear about every story I have missed.
Liz is the smartest woman I know. Our best/worst memory is jumping up and down at her graduation party, breaking 100 glasses at Ralphs, and running out the door as if something was actually going to happen to us (we are invincible). First person that told me she did not want to have kids, a choice I couldn't even conceive of coming from such a monogamous small town. First person I knew that traded paperbacks with train punks. First friend to call me Ruthie. Someone I would call to handle something like my house burning down, or an unexpected death very close to me. So, so loyal to friends, that she WILL CALL YOU ON IT. Which is so reassuring in a unstoppable kind of way. Like a family member.
Gwen has the best style of any of my friends. Her haircuts are dots on the timeline of my short life. First friend I wrote two songs about. I have NO IDEA what she will do with her life, as she could do anything that she pleases because she is soooo charming. Her psyche is self-constructed, along with the help of Mister Rogers, and she seemed to have the self-awareness of an aging writer with arthritis when she was 10, something I still don't possess. Accepts both failure and success with a glass of wine and dirty jokes. Someone I look forward to retiring near.
Dana is a New Friend. When I met her, I thought she would be someone else. But she wasn't. She was someone that leaves the house alone and does things without social safety precautions, like excuses or extra friends to entertain her. I've never, ever, not once, heard her actually be sad about anything besides missing a good sale. Does things like falls in love with men that are shorter than her and accepts nothing but the best in dress, food, and drink, all while remaining thankful and amazed instead of pretentious. Oh, and her relationship with the man that is shorter than her is one of the most magical things I have ever seen in my entire life, without a doubt. Effortless, forgiving, continued enjoyment and support that is inspiring to anyone that has been in a four year relationship of any kind. Someone I look forward to being influenced by in the near future. Cross your fingers, economy!
Tim (reading over my shoulder): You're nice.
Ruth: I miss my friends.
Tim: Am I your friend?
Ruth: You're my best friend.
Tim: Do best friends make me lunch?
I'm having some friends over for Easter on Sunday, and when I was lying awake last night, I found myself wishing that they could ALL be with me, not just one of them (which I do appreciate). Because when I am around these people, I forget about all the complaining, agonizing, and short-lived excitement that tends to get done with friends you see daily. You are just happy to BE with them, SEE them, bask in their greatness.
Hello friends. I miss you very much.
Alana was the first person I took a compliment from seriously. First mature teenager I ever met, first fellow female bass player. In college, we survived being roommates and continued for the next few years to call each other when things either got really scary or really good, as if we were both the only peers that would take each other seriously and without judgement. I called her when I met Tim and realized it was going to stick. First person I think of I think of Bismarck, ND. I hope there is a day when we are making tiny peanut butter sandwiches together, because I remember her telling me that was her goal in life while we were in high school listening to Sleater-Kinney and most likely breaking several laws.
Morgan was the first person that I met as a stranger, assumed she was too cool to be my friend, and then became one of those friends you hang out with in pajamas to watch two consecutive ANTM marathons on VH-1. She seemed to be one of those people that was always in the eye of the storm---calm when others were crazy or stupid. So she could always relate the best gossip later on. She's someone who deserves only the best and I feel very protective of her because I want her to have THE BEST in everything, but I'm not sure why I feel so strongly about this, so differently than I feel about other friends. Also, she's a romantic, and there are so few of us closet romantics left. For instance, I know what song will be playing when she dances with her husband for the first time at her wedding.
Julia, I can't remember how we met. It seemed to be extremely organic. She is the first person that made me realize that I was MORE ME when I was around her. Very Midwest, very comfortable, very creative, very courageous. She embraces craziness in others as only few can, professionally and personally. I have every confidence in her to do whatever she wants, with whoever she wants, and whenever she wants. She also has a pterodactyl cat and was like, isn't this great? Check it out! Extra toes! This can only mean good things! Out of every person I know, she makes me feel the best about myself and others around me. When I see her I immediately want to hug her, pick her up, spin in a circle, and hear about every story I have missed.
Liz is the smartest woman I know. Our best/worst memory is jumping up and down at her graduation party, breaking 100 glasses at Ralphs, and running out the door as if something was actually going to happen to us (we are invincible). First person that told me she did not want to have kids, a choice I couldn't even conceive of coming from such a monogamous small town. First person I knew that traded paperbacks with train punks. First friend to call me Ruthie. Someone I would call to handle something like my house burning down, or an unexpected death very close to me. So, so loyal to friends, that she WILL CALL YOU ON IT. Which is so reassuring in a unstoppable kind of way. Like a family member.
Gwen has the best style of any of my friends. Her haircuts are dots on the timeline of my short life. First friend I wrote two songs about. I have NO IDEA what she will do with her life, as she could do anything that she pleases because she is soooo charming. Her psyche is self-constructed, along with the help of Mister Rogers, and she seemed to have the self-awareness of an aging writer with arthritis when she was 10, something I still don't possess. Accepts both failure and success with a glass of wine and dirty jokes. Someone I look forward to retiring near.
Dana is a New Friend. When I met her, I thought she would be someone else. But she wasn't. She was someone that leaves the house alone and does things without social safety precautions, like excuses or extra friends to entertain her. I've never, ever, not once, heard her actually be sad about anything besides missing a good sale. Does things like falls in love with men that are shorter than her and accepts nothing but the best in dress, food, and drink, all while remaining thankful and amazed instead of pretentious. Oh, and her relationship with the man that is shorter than her is one of the most magical things I have ever seen in my entire life, without a doubt. Effortless, forgiving, continued enjoyment and support that is inspiring to anyone that has been in a four year relationship of any kind. Someone I look forward to being influenced by in the near future. Cross your fingers, economy!
Tim (reading over my shoulder): You're nice.
Ruth: I miss my friends.
Tim: Am I your friend?
Ruth: You're my best friend.
Tim: Do best friends make me lunch?
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Tier 2 Cities.
I am currently on the road for work in Denver and have driven more in the last 48 hours than I have in the last 4 to 8 months in Chicago.
And I love it. Because I'm not driving in Chicago. I'm back at home in Fargo, Cincinnati, St. Paul, and maybe even visiting Madison. The highways have these darling little strips called "two lanes." On each side! Sigh. So easy.
Today I had a little time to kill in Boulder, so I walked around the town sticking out in a business suit and heels. And I like it here.
Top five reasons for Ruth and Tim to move to Boulder, CO;
1. Breweries!
2. Mountains!
3. Tim could finally utlize his collection of hoodies and pull-overs.They are mandatory here.
4. Traffic---little to none.
5. Skiing. Tim used to be a safety patrol guy at Rib Mountain in Wisconsin, and he still refuses to discard his fanny pack of cotton cloth and chicken wire.I know he's still got the fever.
So, um, we're moving to Boulder! Breathing the air, enjoying parking meters that aren't six bucks an hour, and enough nature to keep us far apart from each other for the majority of the day. Perfect.
And I love it. Because I'm not driving in Chicago. I'm back at home in Fargo, Cincinnati, St. Paul, and maybe even visiting Madison. The highways have these darling little strips called "two lanes." On each side! Sigh. So easy.
Today I had a little time to kill in Boulder, so I walked around the town sticking out in a business suit and heels. And I like it here.
Top five reasons for Ruth and Tim to move to Boulder, CO;
1. Breweries!
2. Mountains!
3. Tim could finally utlize his collection of hoodies and pull-overs.They are mandatory here.
4. Traffic---little to none.
5. Skiing. Tim used to be a safety patrol guy at Rib Mountain in Wisconsin, and he still refuses to discard his fanny pack of cotton cloth and chicken wire.I know he's still got the fever.
So, um, we're moving to Boulder! Breathing the air, enjoying parking meters that aren't six bucks an hour, and enough nature to keep us far apart from each other for the majority of the day. Perfect.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Anti Pants Day.
To save an extra ten minutes on my commute, I ride my bike to the blue line every day. A couple weeks ago I was biking to work and my dress pants got caught in my bike chain. I parked the bike and starting pulling. Since they were relatively cheap and only about 50% flattering, I just ripped them out of the gear and ruined the hem. I pedaled on without a twinge of remorse or a sincere apology to the bike.
On Tuesday I was riding home from the train. It was a lovely day, the sky was blue, and I was done with work! Yippee! So I was happy. About two blocks into my seven block ride, my bike chain saw the window of opportunity it had been waiting for and chomped down on my dress pants again. This was a different pair, and because the too-short hem I requested from mom looks very Audrey Hepburn when I wear a button down shirt and flats, I decided I WAS NOT LOSING THOSE PANTS.
So I pulled over, just like before. Knowing that the materials was stronger (uh, more polyester, I believe) I started yanking on my pants with my right hand while still sitting on the bike. The 70 other blue ride riders walking down Kedzie were kind enough to completely ignore the grown woman trying to wrench her office attire free of a blue beach cruiser. Thanks, comrades. I got off the bike and tried pulling on my pants with both hands, but my right ankle was not going to budge, so I had no other choice than to accept defeat. For another five blocks I sat on my bike, casually dangling my right leg next to the chain guard, while leaning and scooting my unhelpful bike and trying my best to "get on my good foot."
All the way home and only one teenage girl laughed at me! Because of the pants, I wasn't able to do large pushes with my left foot (push...wheeeee! push...wheeee!). Instead I had to repeatedly tap the ground with my big toe (put put put put put put STREEETTCH put put put put). While puttering along I started using my award winning (not really) problem solving skills on the next dilemma at hand. The only way to save the pants would be to remove myself from them, i.e., be pantless. Here was my train of thought:
1. I'll have to take the pants off in the apartment
2. How do I get the bike into the apartment? I'll just carry it in, of course!
3. YEAH! I'll use the back porch, because it's so big and wide and I won't have too much trouble. Then I'll walk into the house and take off my pants. I envision myself effortlessly carrying the large heavy bike up three flights of stairs, entering the kitchen and removing the pants calmly without cause for celebration.
4. Ohhhhhh. Wait. I don't have a back door key, and Tim isn't home. I can't go in the back porch.
5. Okay, I'll just go in the front door, carry the bike upstairs, and take of my paints! YES!
By the time I got to my front door, I realized that carrying a bike that is glued to your inner right thigh is easier than it sounds. What I actually had to do was open a heavy glass door, unlock another heavy glass door within two feet of the first door, prop both doors open with my body, and turn the bike 180 degrees so I was lifting it through the entry way backwards, which meant the handlebars were swerving in every direction possible. After about ten minutes of holding both doors open, tugging at bike tires, and dodging stair way rails, I had only succeeded in the getting the bike through the front door, but not up the three flights of carpeted stairs to my apartment. Here was my next train of thought.
1. I cannot lift this bike up the stairs without damaging any more walls, banisters, or doors. And my arms are tired.
2. Currently, there are only three apartments between me and my apartment.
3. I have never seen anyone in the halls when I have come home from work.
4. Really? Never?
5. Yes, never.
6. I am wearing oddly thick nylons under my pants, and boy shorts underwears, which provide more coverage than a swimmun suit bottom.
7. My coat is long enough to cover my lady parts.
I think you can see where this is going. In a blur of triumph, I removed my shoes and pants in the entryway and raced up the stairs in my pantyhose and modest coat coverage. I did a little dance before getting all grown up and putting on pants again, like, heh, you thought you had me, bike, but I perservered. Sucker.
I was so excited about defeating the bike that I later put on my running pants inside out and didn't notice till I ran past a large window on North Avenue and saw the large white tag contrasted against the seat of my black stretchy pants.
Damn you pants! Why don't you like Tuesdays? Oh, and it took Tim 30 seconds to remove the pants from the bike, along with a 2"x2" scrap of fabric from the pants that lost the first battle of the chain guard. BUT WE WON THE WAR!
On Tuesday I was riding home from the train. It was a lovely day, the sky was blue, and I was done with work! Yippee! So I was happy. About two blocks into my seven block ride, my bike chain saw the window of opportunity it had been waiting for and chomped down on my dress pants again. This was a different pair, and because the too-short hem I requested from mom looks very Audrey Hepburn when I wear a button down shirt and flats, I decided I WAS NOT LOSING THOSE PANTS.
So I pulled over, just like before. Knowing that the materials was stronger (uh, more polyester, I believe) I started yanking on my pants with my right hand while still sitting on the bike. The 70 other blue ride riders walking down Kedzie were kind enough to completely ignore the grown woman trying to wrench her office attire free of a blue beach cruiser. Thanks, comrades. I got off the bike and tried pulling on my pants with both hands, but my right ankle was not going to budge, so I had no other choice than to accept defeat. For another five blocks I sat on my bike, casually dangling my right leg next to the chain guard, while leaning and scooting my unhelpful bike and trying my best to "get on my good foot."
All the way home and only one teenage girl laughed at me! Because of the pants, I wasn't able to do large pushes with my left foot (push...wheeeee! push...wheeee!). Instead I had to repeatedly tap the ground with my big toe (put put put put put put STREEETTCH put put put put). While puttering along I started using my award winning (not really) problem solving skills on the next dilemma at hand. The only way to save the pants would be to remove myself from them, i.e., be pantless. Here was my train of thought:
1. I'll have to take the pants off in the apartment
2. How do I get the bike into the apartment? I'll just carry it in, of course!
3. YEAH! I'll use the back porch, because it's so big and wide and I won't have too much trouble. Then I'll walk into the house and take off my pants. I envision myself effortlessly carrying the large heavy bike up three flights of stairs, entering the kitchen and removing the pants calmly without cause for celebration.
4. Ohhhhhh. Wait. I don't have a back door key, and Tim isn't home. I can't go in the back porch.
5. Okay, I'll just go in the front door, carry the bike upstairs, and take of my paints! YES!
By the time I got to my front door, I realized that carrying a bike that is glued to your inner right thigh is easier than it sounds. What I actually had to do was open a heavy glass door, unlock another heavy glass door within two feet of the first door, prop both doors open with my body, and turn the bike 180 degrees so I was lifting it through the entry way backwards, which meant the handlebars were swerving in every direction possible. After about ten minutes of holding both doors open, tugging at bike tires, and dodging stair way rails, I had only succeeded in the getting the bike through the front door, but not up the three flights of carpeted stairs to my apartment. Here was my next train of thought.
1. I cannot lift this bike up the stairs without damaging any more walls, banisters, or doors. And my arms are tired.
2. Currently, there are only three apartments between me and my apartment.
3. I have never seen anyone in the halls when I have come home from work.
4. Really? Never?
5. Yes, never.
6. I am wearing oddly thick nylons under my pants, and boy shorts underwears, which provide more coverage than a swimmun suit bottom.
7. My coat is long enough to cover my lady parts.
I think you can see where this is going. In a blur of triumph, I removed my shoes and pants in the entryway and raced up the stairs in my pantyhose and modest coat coverage. I did a little dance before getting all grown up and putting on pants again, like, heh, you thought you had me, bike, but I perservered. Sucker.
I was so excited about defeating the bike that I later put on my running pants inside out and didn't notice till I ran past a large window on North Avenue and saw the large white tag contrasted against the seat of my black stretchy pants.
Damn you pants! Why don't you like Tuesdays? Oh, and it took Tim 30 seconds to remove the pants from the bike, along with a 2"x2" scrap of fabric from the pants that lost the first battle of the chain guard. BUT WE WON THE WAR!
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