The Good Ol' Days

When I first moved to NY in February 2000, I didn't know a single person except for the guy who would be heading up my company's soon-to-be-opened office here, and I'd only met him once. Let's call him "Hal." Hal was a real-life Michael Scott. I'm totally serious. In fact, go read the Wikipedia Overview, because it describes Hal EXACTLY. He was sweet and insecure and well-intentioned and frequently said painfully awkward things that were meant to be funny.

Hal was also very neurotic. He had a label maker that I swear he'd have had sex with if he could have found a way. The guy labeled EVERYTHING, including, I kid you not, the shelves in our office fridge as to WHICH CANS OF SODA WENT ON WHICH SHELF:Hilare, right? And totally without irony. Of course, my co-workers and I found the label-obsession hilarious, and on occasion, messed with it a little:
Hee. (Our sales people once labeled all of their office supplies, including STAPLER, MONITOR, CPU, etc. Good times.)

One day, my officemate came over to my desk and conspiratorially said, "Gillian. You have to come see this." He signaled me into the kitchen and pointed me to his lunch leftovers:
Office pranks? Don't get any better than that.

While we're reminiscing, I must also share with you a photo of the worst sunburn I've ever had, in the Summer of 2000:
Ouch.

OK, Let's Have An Adventure

Sparkly D is in NY and just forcibly pushed me off the wagon. The conversation went something like this:

D: Gilly, do you like prosecco?
G: Totally. But D, I'm doing this thing where I'm not drinking for a week.
D: OK. I'm only going to ask you this once, but why does it have to be the weekend I'm visiting? Start tomorrow.
G: ...
D: Let's have an adventure.
G: OK. Let's have an adventure.

No Sugar: Day 1

I ran a half-marathon this morning in Central Park and finished in 2:13, exactly the same time I ran the NYC Half in last year. How... consistent. Turns out training notes are useful - last year I had one Gu one hour in, and today I had two (one at 1h, the second at 1:40). I probably could have run it slightly faster, had I not overindulged on Thursday night (see: margaritas, beer, hookah) (see also: this week's resolution).

Speaking of which, I desperately want to snuggle up with my pals Ben & Jerry tonight but I'm so resisting their delicious siren calls. SUCKAS! But boys, save it up for November 4 because that night, you and I are going to party.

Marathon Countdown: 30 Sleeps To Go

After a mere 30 more sleeps I will wake up and run the NYC Marathon. Good times.

Despite my earlier vows, I haven't been so nice to my body this past month. I've kept up with training (ran 20 miles last Saturday!) and have managed to throw in some hiking and yoga, but I've also kept up with the drinking.

In the immortal words of H.I. McDunnough: "That ain't me no more." Starting tomorrow, until after I run the Staten Island Half-Marathon (+ an additional 7 miles) next Sunday, I'm going eliminate alcohol AND refined sugars from my diet.

The latter is going to be a real bitch. I can go without a drink, but I may need a twelve-step program for the chocolate. If I seem crabby, be nice to me. And please don't offer to buy me a drink (or a Ritter Sport), at least until after I finish my second 20-mile run next weekend (at which time you may hand me a martini and a cupcake).

Blogger Play

Mike just posted a link to Blogger Play. According to the FAQ, it's "a real-time slideshow of photos Blogger users have recently uploaded to their blogs." I'm pretty sure I could watch it for hours.

I love the internets.

Charlie at 5 Months

Remember The Amazing Race back in April, and the amazingly cute baby who started the whole thing?

He's now 5 months old:

The Timbits Post

Full disclosure: I have PMS and I was in a suck mood when I wrote that last post, but I thought you, my loyal reader(s), deserved a little somethin'. You know what they say, suck-mood Gillian is better than no Gillian at all!

Anyway, I went for a (sucky) run and followed it up with a nice phone call and a delicious cheddar & avocado sandwich (even though there are about 8 servings of veggie moussaka in the fridge - sometimes a girl needs cheese). I'm now self-medicating with Nutella and the internets.

The Other Gillian's comment on my last post and my gluttonous enjoyment of Timbits last weekend have inspired me to write tonight's post.

I'm not kidding when I say that I ate a lot of Timbits last weekend. In a 3 1/2 hour drive, two of us consumed almost an entire box of 40 Timbits. When we were down to about a dozen, we started a Timbit "drinking" game, wherein we would only eat a Timbit when we passed a Tim Horton's (which, at least in Ontario, is about as frequent as you pass a Starbucks in New York City, that is to say, A LOT).

I am happy, then, to present:

The Official Ultra Fine Flair Guide to Timbits

1. This dude used to be the Timbits, uh, dude. I don't know what happened to him (and I'd forgotten he even existed until I started googling images of Timbits). I'd forgotten about him, actually, but I used to have a stuffed one. I know. Weird.

2. The best Timbit variety: Chocolate. That's one there on the right, behind those two honey dip Timbits. Chocolate Timbits are perfectly chocolatey and cakey, but not too sweet. When I open a restaurant, chocolate Timbits are going to be on the dessert menu. I'll serve up maybe 3, in a little box that looks like a full-sized Timbits box. It'll be awesome. So will the profit margin.

3. Speaking of honey dip - they used to be my second favourite, until I discovered the French Cruller. It has just the right ratio of icing-y outside to creamy, puffy inside, and I'm kind of amazed that Tim Horton's gets the texture exactly right.

4. After chocolate, French Cruller and honey dip, my next favourites are: Sour cream glazed, apple fritter, old-fashioned sugared and old-fashioned plain. I'm kind of medium on the jelly-filled varieties, although I like them better than filled doughnuts (again with the better ratio, kind of like Hallowe'en-size chocolate bars - yum).

5. Down with Dutchies. Raisins don't belong in stuffing, and they certainly don't belong in doughnuts. Nature's candy, my ass.

6. If you want to smugg^H^H^H^H^Hbring Timbits across the border, stop at a Tim Horton's BEFORE you enter Terminal 3 at Pearson International, or you will be very, very sad. There is a Tim's on the Canadian side, which you can see through the glass once you're at your gate. It's heartbreaking.

Long Time No

Did you miss me?

Once again I'm grateful for the magic that is RSS.

Anyway, here's what's up:

Last weekend was spent in The Bruce, hiking and eating lots of delicious meat (and don't even talk to me about the number of Timbits I consumed. Also, any good intentions I had of running remained just that - good intentions. I did hike, though, and took some pictures with Sirrah! & Gregoire's camera, which I won't see again until I upload them somewhere myself at Christmas.

Memphis is the feline queen of BP:LE, and has on multiple occasions put Grapple in his place.

I still have a bunch of unpacked, unstored boxes. I tolerate them for a few days at a time, but today they are seriously adversely affecting my feng shui, and I got on a bent this afternoon to find them a home. According to a nice gentleman at American Self-Storage, a 4x4x4 space should do it and will only run me $31/month. Now I just have to get off my ass and move them.

That's all you get for now. I'm going running.

Happy Birthday :-)!

:-)
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

Today be the Smiley's 25th birthday! Arr!* I was lucky enough to visit its birthplace yesterday.

The eternal question: Nose or no nose?

*It's also, apparently, Talk Like a Pirate day, as evidenced by the pirate flag on Flickr's logo. Who thinks of these things?

Best. Quiz. Ever.

You Are Orange

Bright and intense, you embrace the world and all its opportunities. Change does not intimidate you, even if it's a complete life overhaul. You're a very real person. You aren't scared to show the world who you are.

What Color Orange Are You?

(via How About Orange)

Martinis and Marathons

Last Thursday DC Dave was in town and invited me out for dinner with a bunch of Sales people. We were at a relatively swank restaurant in my 'hood and were waiting for a table, so I ordered a martini (Grey Goose, straight up, olives, very cold). I have fond memories of my first martini - it was on my 28th birthday at Daniel, also waiting for a table, and I decided I could be Grown Up and order a martini, and that at a place like Daniel it'd probably be as good as I would get anywhere. For better or worse, it was delicious. Anyway, while I can remember the first time I had a martini, on Thursday I couldn't remember the LAST time I'd had one, so I decided to splurge.

It should be noted here that a martini is not a slippery slope to drunk. As Bob put it, it's a big hole. And I stepped right into it, voluntarily. My martini was followed by a glass of Zinfandel, which was followed by the dessert cocktail (which was SUPPOSED to be shared with the other three people at my table, but by the time it arrived one person had left, another was on her way out, and DC Dave is, apparently, a lightweight). I made the sacrifice and drank 'er down, because I am just that generous.

Those drinks were followed by a shared bottle of wine at BP:LE, which was followed by a late bedtime (1:30 a.m.) and an early morning. By 4 p.m. on Friday I was considering freebasing coffee to get the caffeine into my bloodstream faster, and I was asleep by 9:30 on Friday night.

Despite that tale of woe, Saturday morning I managed to haul myself up to Central Park at 7 a.m. to run - GET READY - 18 miles! The last two of those were particularly tough, and I did think about the martini (and the subsequent fermented beverages) and figure that with 47 (yikes!) days left, I'd better stick to that promise I made back when there were 60 days to go and lay off the tasty beverages.

But I'll tell you right now that November is going to be a fun month.

Hard at Work

Paws
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

What she did while I ran 16 miles.

DYKWIL? Volume 3: New Neighbourhood Edition

1. Seeing Cameron Diaz filming a scene for a new movie right outside the door to my new apartment!

2. That my routine training run takes me across the Brooklyn Bridge and back.

3. Seeing the Empire State Building every morning when I step outside.

T-Minus 60 Days and Counting!

Last night I decided to trek to Central Park to join the TNT group there. I am SO GLAD that I did. For one, I didn't have to run the same loop around Prospect Park for the upteenth time. I also found a running partner who was slightly faster than me, and managed to stay with her for the 6 mile loop, which resulted in my fastest 6 miles EVER with a pace of 9:25/mile! (Since the first mile was a warm-up and took me 10 minutes, I averaged 9:19 for the 5 mile tempo run!) I went to practice feeling tired and a bit under the weather and came home feeling like I could have run another 6 miles. Good times indeed.

The NYC Marathon is just 60 days away. This last 2 months is where all the training will really count. In addition to my weekly TNT group runs, my training schedule includes:

The NYC Marathon Long Training Run (18-20 Miles)

The NYC Marathon Tune-Up (18 Miles)

2 Half-Marathons (Grete's Great Gallop and the Nike Women's Half-Marathon) (I love that half-marathons are part of my training schedule for something else!)

+ Some other 20 mile run (hopefully a trail run with TNT)

It's time for me to buckle down with eating properly and drinking less. The acquisition of a new kitchen was well-timed!

Where's The Door?

Where's The Door?
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

Just as boxes are irresistible to cats, a cat at the end of a lamp box is irresistible to me. She crawled in, and I set the box upright. I know I'm going straight to hell for this, and the hilarity was totally worth it.

So far BP:LE is working out just fine. I have unpacked many, many boxes. One stack has been designated for storage, and there's still more stuff to cart to Goodwill. (I know, makes a lot of sense to move that stuff in the first place, right? Shut up.) Yesterday I did laundry WITHOUT LEAVING THE APARTMENT and this evening I baked cookies and made dinner ALL AT ONCE with stuff on the counters (did I mention there are counters? More than one, even! Good times). Memphis is quite content (when she is not trapped in a box).

More pictures soon.

New Digs

New Digs
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

We moved into BP:LE today. Memphis has already hissed at our new roommate (one of the humans; she hasn't met the other feline yet). She seems content, if a little suspicious.

People I Love: Lisa

I interviewed Lisa in Fall '06 as a co-op student for the team I manage. I hired her because during the interview, she didn't know an answer to a question I asked and said as much, and when I explained what the answer was, she said, "Oh, cool, yeah, I didn't think of that," so incredibly sincerely that I kind of loved her.

That first semester I didn't spend a lot of time with her, but she always showed up for events (even dressed up as a Happy Camper [at left, with Giselle aka Joan] for our Hallowe'en party - although I admit it hurt a little when I told Lisa that I was going to an 80s party as Cyndi Lauper and she asked, "Who's that?") and had just wonderful spirit. I saw her once during Winter term when I was in Waterloo to do interviews - she and her sister Laura came out for drinks with Sirrah!'s husband and me, and when Greg and I returned to the very pregnant Sirrah! Greg announced that he was sorry but he was in love with someone else. That's how charming this girl is.

Lisa came back to NY to work for a different team this summer, and ended up in a sublet about 6 doors down from the BP. We had regular Monday night movies (including "Josie and the Pussycats," "Charlie's Angels," and most recently, "Adventures in Babysitting") and shared countless pints of i.c.e.c.r.e.a.m. (she spells it every time she says it, and now I do too). I beat her once at Settlers of Catan (it was totally an upset - even MY money was on her). She taught me about improv and biters and Teen Girl Squad and reminded me that persistence works. And even though she's an athlete and an engineer and a writer and a sister, she is totally uncategorizable.

Lisa, if I could write and cast the role of Gillian's Little Sister (GLS), it would be all you. Thanks for being an amazing friend this summer. I love you (metric) tonnes.

P.S. This post is totally biting Lisa's People I Like series.

15 Things I Do To Avoid Packing

1. Poke people on Facebook
2. Go to the deli
3. Pet Memphis
4. Call Sara
5. Rip CDs (seriously. SERIOUSLY)
6. Eat ice cream
7. Send text messages (LATHE'D!)
8. Reminisce
9. Look at the intarweb
10. Hope someone calls to invite me out for a beer
11. Drink the last beer in the BP fridge
12. Listen to Gwen Stefani (OK, there is singing and dancing involved here too)
13. Miss Lisa
14. Read Get Naked
15. Blog

Procrastinate This, Sucka!

Saturday I move into BP:LE. A few weeks ago, with the help of about half a dozen kickass girlfriends, I packed up loads of crap from my old apartment in preparation for the move. Sadly, the BP (v1) remains intact. I've looked around a few times to approximate how many boxes I'll need, and mostly thought, hey, it'll be fine. How long can it take to pack this place up? I've only lived here for a few months!

And so, in the week leading up to the big move, I have cleverly overbooked myself so that my packing follows the law of all packing (and software development and wedding planning): It will take as much time as is available to do it.

Last night, La Farlow came over to watch a movie. Then I baked banana bread, which I took out of the oven at approx. 12:30 a.m. Tonight, we had game night at work! I got home from that at 10:30, and now I'm blogging, but it's ABOUT packing so that kind of counts, right? I actually canceled my plans for tomorrow night (a leftover birthday mani-pedi) just so I'd have an evening to pack, which I'm SURE will be long enough, right?

Guys?

That, Too

Gillian: I love xkcd today
Gillian: SO MUCH

Brianna: you would
Brianna: i found it a bit overly sugary

Gillian: I am nothing if not overly sugary

Brianna: you're just shockingly uncynical

The Under 3 Set

Dig my mad toddler skillz, yo.

And while we're on the topic of kiddos, you totally have to check out my godson Griffin hip-hop dancing:



(Via Accidental Ocelot)

Adventures in Cooking

For those of you just joining us, this is the "kitchen" in the BP.

OK. It's a bit better now. I painted and fanagled a bigger fridge, and put up shelves. But that sink is useless.

I haven't cooked a lot this summer. See above. This past weekend, already feeling nostalgic about leaving Park Slope, I hit up the Green Market at Grand Army Plaza. Sans plan, I picked up a few delicious items, including heirloom tomatoes, beets, scallops, goat cheese, a French baguette, and New Jersey white peaches. A quick surf of Epicurious and a call to Candace inspired a menu of Spinach and Beet Salad with Walnut-Crusted Goat Cheese (based on this recipe for Hazelnut-Crusted Goat Cheese Salad), Bacon-Wrapped Scallops with Port Reduction served with heirloom tomatoes, and Peaches & Cream (freshly whipped, sweetened with a bit of maple syrup) for dessert. If your mouth isn't watering by now, you should really have that looked at.

The best part about the menu was that I had almost everything in my tiny pantry (I even had bacon in the freezer). My trip to the grocery store was quick and painless, and a bottle of ruby port only costs $10.99 - who knew? Also: I got to light stuff on fire (that's the port reducing over there on the right). Good times.

I'm psyched about cooking this Fall, and to take full advantage of the delightfully large kitchen in BP:LE, I might even trek back to Park Slope for the market. You never know.

Haystack

My friend D started blogging again after a 2 month hiatus. Check out her latest post, replete with pictures of Sunny's garden which is at its most perfect this time of year. I'm sad to be missing it.

Also: Read about her Fluevogs, which cracked me up (and I have those same shoes!).

Public Record

GILLIAN is walking along the Brooklyn-bound platform of the Metropolitan Ave. G Train stop. She hears someone singing on the Queens-bound side and looks up.

BILL: Duh du duh du du du-du duh duh

GILLIAN: Hey! Tee hee! Where do you live?

BILL: Greenpoint.

GILLIAN: Sucka!

BILL: Uh, you have further to go.

GILLIAN: Good point.

BILL: So, when are you going to give me a project?

GILLIAN: Next week - I'm off tomorrow and Friday. I'm baking Aaron's wedding cake.

BILL: Aaron's getting married? I didn't know that. When?

GILLIAN: Saturday.

BILL: Will you bake my wedding cake?

GILLIAN: Of course! I told you last year that I would.

BILL: For free?

GILLIAN: Duh, yes. When are you doing that?

BILL: I don't know if I'm ever getting married.

GILLIAN: But I thought you guys... This year? Or next year?

BILL: I don't know what we're doing. I am so afraid of commitment. I don't know what I'm doing next Tuesday.

GILLIAN: I hear you. [pause] I'm getting divorced.

BILL: WHAT? You're joking.

GILLIAN: No, for real.

BILL: Whatever, you're not serious.

GILLIAN: No, I am. [holds up ringless left hand]

BILL: Oh my God! That makes me so sad!

GILLIAN: No, really, I'm OK. It's for the best.

BILL: [looks around, realizes they're yelling to hear each other and there are other passengers on both platforms who can hear the entire conversation] [clasps hands in front of heart] Aw, that sucks! Come over here! I want to hug you!

GILLIAN: [looks at the train tracks and rolls eyes] For real, Bill, I'm OK.

BILL: What? But... But, you just celebrated your one-year anniversary!

GILLIAN: Yeah, but we weren't living together at the time. I moved out earlier this Spring.

BILL: Oh my God! This breaks my heart! How long were you together?

GILLIAN: Almost 6 years.

BILL: [hands still clasped in front of chest, bows dramatically]

GILLIAN: Really, Bill, it's for the best. Trust me. [pause] Also, it's kind of surreal that we're having this conversation across two sets of subway tracks.

BILL: [titters] Yeah, I know! [pause] But, I read your blog! You guys seem so together!

GILLIAN: OK. You know on the right side, the Favourite Posts section? Go read Late Night Blogging Gets Serious.

BILL: I read that!

GILLIAN: Well, read it again. Use your mad reading skillz this time.

BILL: OK OK. So...

GILLIAN: So, I moved out, and in September I'm moving to DUMBO.

BILL: I love DUMBO! It's so different from anywhere I've lived or know. [crosses arms in front of chest]

GILLIAN: Yeah, it's a 3,000 sq. ft. loft shared with 3 other people. I'm psyched.

BILL: Who are you living with?

GILLIAN: Strangers. I met them briefly last week.

BILL: I can't believe you're moving in with people you don't know. What if one of them is crazy?

GILLIAN: Then I'll move out. It's month-to-month.

BILL: Huh. [crosses arms in front of chest]

GILLIAN: [Glances at other passengers on platform] I feel like this is some kind of performance art and we're reading from scripts.

BILL: Totally.

The Queens-bound train pulls into the station at that moment, and Gillian and Bill wave goodbye across the platform. Gillian watches Bill through the moving windows of the train, then watches the train pull out of the station.

LOL Caturday

Thanks to Dog for the caption.

Perfect Moments

This morning I went for a run, and after Tuesday's cross-training extravaganza I felt cricky and sore and, well, not awesome. It was overcast and humid, and I ended up walking the last mile. As I approached the park exit, I noticed the light was just lovely, and the trees were that perfect August green, full and layered. The sun squeaked through the clouds in places and dappled the trees and in that moment everything felt perfectly beautiful.

An hour later I was waiting for the subway, listening to Cyndi Lauper on my iPod and a line in the book I'm reading made me laugh out loud:

When somebody tells you that a certain boy isn't good enough for you, that person has usually not just moved all alone into a crap apartment in a city known for being south of a city that people have heard of.

If you pay attention, the Universe comes through.

The Arrivals Gate

The other morning my iPod shuffled over to one of my favourite Ani DiFranco songs, "The Arrivals Gate." I have listened to this song countless times and have the lyrics memorized, but for some reason that morning when I heard it, I *got* it, and it seemed so applicable and wonderful. For a moment I wished I'd understood it a few months ago -- but months ago I wasn't where I am now, so that would have been impossible, anyway.

Gonna go out
To the arrivals gate at the airport
And sit there all day
Watch people reuniting
Public affection so exciting
It even makes airports ok
Watching children run
With their arms outstretched
Just to throw those arms
Around their grandpa’s neck
Watching lovers plant kisses
Old men to their misses
At their arrivals gate

Watching a mother
With a mother’s smile
Don’t tell me to move
I just wanna sit here for a while
I have determined
It’s a sure cure for cancer
Watching excitement turn family dogs
Into dancers
At the arrivals gate

I got me a white bread sandwich
With some shredded lettuce
And I got me a ringside view
For my quaint little fetish

I just wanna drain my pink little heart
Of all it’s malice
And kick back for the afternoon
In this fluorescent palace

Everybody’s in a hurry
Here in purgatory
Except for me
I’m where I need to be

At the arrivals gate

I'd always taken this song literally, and really, it does reinforce my appreciation of airports (I already like them a lot because: traveling and buying trashy magazines and hunting for outlets). But when I heard it the other day the song had entirely new meaning.

It's really easy to resist change. We cling to what we know, even if it isn't awesome, because it's somehow less scary than the unknown. The thing I wonder is, do we really know the things we think we know? As a friend reminded me a couple of months ago, we're all in periods of transition and uncertainty, all the time. So why are we so afraid to absorb and move with the changes, instead of resisting them?

Call it purgatory, or whatever you want, but yeah, it's all of us, all the time. And today, I'm where I need to be.

Stretch

Stretch
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

Perfectly lazy Saturday afternoon.

The Internet Makes Me Giggle

Tonight as I was leaving work, my friend Chad, who's staying Chez BP for a week or so before he embarks on a 2 month trip to Europe, called me to tell me he'd forgotten to bring with him the address of where he was meeting someone for dinner. I couldn't recall the address myself, and asked him if he had GOOG-411, the Google Voice Local Search.

I don't know where I heard about GOOG-411, but I've had it in my phone for a while and have used it a handful of times. It's free (yay Google!) and the times I've used it, it's worked about as well as any other company's voice directories that I've used.

Chad didn't have The Goog, so I told him I'd call and get back to him.

When I was prompted for the name of the business, I said, "Otto." The first option was for Otto's Shrunkenhead (who knew?) on East 14th St. The second option: Otto Restaurant Enoteca Pizza on 5th Ave. Bingo! My choices were then to wait to be connected, or say "Details" for more info. Since I needed the address, I chose the latter and was THEN presented with the option - get ready! - to receive a text message! My brain barely managed to process the awesomeness of that option but I managed to yell "Text message!" into the phone. While I was STILL CONNECTED I received the following text:

Otto Restaurant Enoteca Pizza
212-995-9559
1 5th Ave
New York, NY 10003
http://m.google.com/u/B2hK5I

Not only did I get exactly the information that I needed, I then proceeded to forward the message to Chad so that he would have all the details right on his phone! That? Rocks.

Gentle reader, please, for me, store this number in your phone: 1-800-GOOG-411 (1-800-466-4411). I promise you that it will come in handy. You can thank me when it does.

P.S. According to the GOOG-411 Web site, the service is still only available in the US. Sorry, loyal Canadian readers. But you guys still have exclusive access to ketchup chips.

What A Girl's Gotta Do

Tonight's dinner: A slice of toast* with Nutella, half a pint of Ben & Jerry's Half-Baked Frozen Yogurt and a glass of red wine.

I really can't wait to move into Bachelorette Pad: Loft Edition, now with more kitchen! Coming September 1. Stay tuned.

*Toasted, sadly, in the oven. I hope that BP:LE is also equipped with a toaster.

Orange

A few days ago Dog sent me a link to these fruity-scented USB drives and was surprised when I picked strawberry over orange as my top choice. Later that same week, Lisa told me that I could add her innovative Facebook profile mod that, in addition to Likes and Dislikes, lists Indifferent Tos. She was surprised (or perhaps just disagreed with my opinion) when I listed "orange popsicles" on the third list. (She also said that if I stole her idea she wouldn't even write biter on my wall, and if you have no idea what you just read, don't worry, that just means that you're over 25. Note: I was perplexed at the term "biter" but just this morning realized that I've heard it before and didn't even get it at all. And, that reference was from Dog and apparently now we've come full circle.)

Anyway. This post is supposed to be about things that are orange, and why orange-flavoured things usually don't make my top 10 lists.

When we were kids, my mom used to take my brother & I grocery shopping and let us each pick a flavour of Kool-Aid or Jell-O. Garth ALWAYS picked orange. Like, every single time. And every single time I picked a different non-orange flavour, so our cupboard was half orange-flavoured stuff and half misc. I kind of separated orange from the other flavours in my mind at that point. Since there was always an abundance of it, I seldom choose it even now when there are other options. I'm sure there's a PhD (or at least Master's) psychology thesis in here somewhere about the lasting effects of familial eccentricities.

[The main exception to the orange-flavoured things rule is Creamsicles, which are perfect just as they are.]

DYKWIL? Volume 2

1. That in NY, $2 will get you a PBR or a delicious falafel.

2. Concerts on boats. Whoever thought of that should get a raise and a vacation.

3. The Statue of Liberty.

Old and...

I have agreed not to call Lisa "young and impressionable," however, sometimes the fact that I'm, uh, older than her is inescapable.

For example, the other night at a party, she was describing "lockdown" in Ontario high schools (something like this). Someone turned to me and asked if I'd had lockdowns when I was in high school, and Lisa started to say, "Oh no, she's too..." and then caught herself and trailed off.

This afternoon I did use the phrase "young and impressionable," and she reminded me that I'm not allowed to use it, and continued, "And I won't call you old and... out of style!"

Ouch. That? Cuts deep.

For The People

American or Canadian?
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

A few days ago, someone arrived at UFF by Googling hot redhead wrapped in american flag.

We at UFF listen to our readers and incorporate your suggestions whenever possible.

Enjoy.

Humid

I think this means it's going to be humid:



(84.2°F) And, I [heart] Google.

Do You Know What I Love? Volume 1

1. When you're thirsty and you drink really cold water and you can feel it going down your throat to your stomach.

2. Fresh lemonade (I just discovered this last summer and I can't believe how much I love it) - bonus points if it has some fun herb in it like lavender or mint.

3. Clif Bar's new Maple Nut flavour.

Procrastination

Here's a list of the sh*t I'm supposed to get done tonight:

1. Make a logo/signage for Dos' business.

2. Design the CD label/packaging for Jillian's upcoming show (that's August 1 at the Hope Lounge in Williamsburg).

3. Bake a delicious cake for Gigi's birthday.

4. Learn PHP.

Instead, I'm blogging (lucky you!) - oh, and as I was leaving the office this afternoon, a certain book that I'd pre-ordered was blocking the door. So maybe I'll get all that other stuff done later tomorrow.

I leave you with the lovely Miss Memphis, who seems to be feeling much better these days:

Better

This afternoon K-Dog and I met at the office to GTD our desks. I threw out boxes of old paperwork and already feel lighter. In the purge, I found a bunch of stuff from the triathlon I did 3 years ago, including a sheet of paper entitled WETSUIT INSTRUCTIONS which includes this gem:

TAKING THE WETSUIT OFF
- The more wet you are the better.

Heh.

Summer Nights

Summer in NYC is magical, really. There are approx. 900,000 fun things to do, and every year when Time Out arrives with its listing of summer events, I load up my calendar with everything I could possibly want to go to and then at the beginning of the week make some tough decisions. Recent juggling to accomodate many top priority events included buying Manu Chao tickets for Tuesday's show even though I already had them for Wednesday's show because Jillian with a J was playing her first show on Wednesday, and I just couldn't miss that. (Tuesday night training was lost in that shuffle, and Mander happily purchased Wednesday night's Manu Chao tix.)

Tonight I had the pleasure of seeing Ani DiFranco play in Prospect Park. In addition to her music being wonderful, as usual, I am always struck by how much she seems to be enjoying herself on stage. It's almost like she still can't believe that she gets to do this for a living. It makes me giggle to see someone doing something she so clearly loves and feels lucky to be doing.

Watching Ani tonight inspired me. How great would it be to have so much awesome in your life that that sometimes, maybe even often, the happiness bubbles up and makes you laugh out loud? And that the happy makes you grateful and the grateful makes you happy and it's just one big circle of creativity and contentment and, well, awesome?

Everyone clicked through and read the lulu manifesto the other day, right? And you saw this part?

Nature wants us to be mediocre because we have a greater chance to survive and reproduce. Mediocre is as close to the bottom as it is to the top. Be creative. Do one thing a day that scares you.

Let yourself be inspired. Inspire others. Choose the awesome.

Does It Even Matter?

Hot and Wet in Central Park

Me, Aaron and Lisa after Saturday's race

More pics here, thanks to Melissa!

Run Your Race

Yesterday morning Lisa and I, along with our co-worker Aaron (who, incidentally totally cracks me up and who is LEAVING in 2 weeks to go get married and then roam around South America and then move to Oregon after which I will never see him again and this fact is causing me a tremendous amount of stress lately), along with our cheerleaders Melissa & Jo, subwayed it up to Central Park for the Naples Park-to-Park 10k. You might have noticed that UFF has been rather devoid of training updates recently, and that's pretty much because training hasn't been going awesomely. I haven't run 10M yet this season, and I've been whining about the heat and making excuses for not sucking it up and getting out there more. After yesterday, that's all going to change.

The race consisted of one counter-clockwise loop of Central Park, starting and ending at 102nd St. Aaron & Lisa & I started out running together. Aaron and I were running beside each other and as we approached Harlem Hill, a guy in a blue shirt asked us how we know each other. The conversation was headed toward being a race-day pickup (no, I'm not flattering myself, Lisa can confirm) with such genius lines as, "You look like a runner." Really? Wow! You mean wearing these running clothes, and running, and surrounded by 10,000 other runners? How flattering!

Aaron pulled ahead at that point and Lisa & I managed to lose Blue Shirt Guy to continue on our merry way. It was a very warm morning, and while I ran the first mile in decent time (considering it included Harlem Hill), I slowed down a bit after that, and when I checked my time at the Mile 4 marker I was not on track to meet my <1 hour (or at least, <10 minute mile) goal.

Something really good happened to me at that point, which is that I relaxed into it. This concept is kind of tough to describe. Last summer when I first did runs longer than 9 or 10M - that is, when I'd be running for longer than 1 1/2 hours, I learned that I needed to settle into the run, and just be present in that moment. In a shorter run, it's OK to get distracted thinking about the next rest station or hill or what's for breakfast afterwards, but in a longer run, more focus needs to be on what's happening right now - taking stock of how I feel in my body and my breath, how strong I feel mentally, etc. When I'm able to find that spot, my body relaxes and I'm much more comfortable running. I found it yesterday, and I'm sure that's what gave me the ability to push myself in the last third of the race, and finish strong in 1:02:39.

Last night when a friend asked me how I was doing vis-à-vis the stuff that's going on in my life, I happily realized that I might finally have found some of that relaxing into my life, the way I find it in running. Here's where I am, right now, and being aware of what's going on in this moment will allow me to make appropriate adjustments to my pace and posture so that I can keep going strong.

I <3 lulu

lululemon's manifesto inspires me.

Taijitu Cat

Yin Yang
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

Important Survey

Just A Girl

At my first job, there were a few women in the office who discussed their hairstyles excessively. It really pissed me off, because I took my job Very Seriously, and didn't want my cred to be undermined by members of my gender discussing their follicular stylings.

Later, when I moved to California, I worked with a woman (for whom I had the utmost professional respect) who had a seriously great haircut. I was new to the area and needed a hairdresser, and fretted for a while about whether, and how, to ask her about her stylist. Finally I said, "Hey, Jen, I have something kind of girly to ask you." She replied, "That's OK, we're girls!"

Good point, Jen.

I've had an ongoing struggle with my own feminity (read: girliness), which has only recently - i.e., in the past two years - come more naturally. I used to fight it tooth and nail - any gender-specific definition or role or stereotype. My friends would crack up at this, and ask me such questions as, "Between you and DLang, who does the cooking?" to which I'd answer, "Well, I do, but that's because I LIKE cooking, not because I'm a girl." Which is true, but it does also happen to fit a certain gender stereotype.

This morning, Lisa told me about a friend who's visiting for the weekend who had already seen fit to make judgy comments about things she deemed girly, in particular, Lisa's application of mascara and quantity of shoes.

L: gillian i have 10 pairs of shoes and all are pivotal
L: 2 running, 1 cleat, 1 your bike shoes
G: I have no judgments if you have 100 pairs of shoes
G: and wear so much makeup that people think you're a whore.
L: birks, those new wanna be birk clogs, brown flip flops, black flip flops
L: thats why I love you most!
L: i was like - well I love flip flips- but I need them in brown and black to match
G: Plus, $2!
L: and she's like "wow, you're such a girl"- in an offensive way! meant to offend!
G: You should have said, yeah, you should see my vagina!
G: It's TOTALLY girly!
L: hahahahahahaha YCMU

In all honesty, mascara is one of my favourite things (and as DLang can confirm, I even listed it as one of the top three things that I can't live without on my online dating profile) and while being a boy certainly wouldn't prevent me from breaking out the Great Lash, it's a plus that it's something that was socially acceptable for my mom to show me how to apply. And having lots of shoes is actually really fun, especially the impractical ones (like these excellent Converse I bought a couple of months ago).

I still hate stereotypes and part of my brain is still screaming, "Anyone can have lots of shoes! Lots of guys have more shoes than I do!" but, hey, so what if it is a girly thing? Like Jen pointed out, I *am* a girl. Which not only means that I cry too easily sometimes and have more difficulty peeing in the woods than my penis-enabled peers, but also that I am comfortable hugging people, get to wear pretty dresses, and get flowers on my birthday.

And, I have boobies that are ALL MINE that I can play with whenever I want, which is way more useful than conveniently peeing in the woods.

Don't Make Me SPAM You

It's already July (how did that happen?), and in less than 4 months, I'll run the NYC Marathon. A few weeks before that, I'll be in SF to run the half at the Nike Women's Marathon (the very race at which I popped my 26.2 cherry last year).

And now, as I mentioned back in April, it's time for me to raise some fundage for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Loyal UFF readers, I implore you: Surely if I can run a combined total of 39.3 miles in two races for this excellent organization, you can throw a little money at the cause? Just think, the more generously you give, the less guilty you will have to feel when you think of me running around Brooklyn on Saturday mornings.

Give here. Or here. Give early and often. Maybe, just maybe, I'll post sweaty post-workout pictures.

Only if you ask nicely, though.

Netflix for Readers?

I read about Bookswim this morning on DailyCandy and I was all gung ho to try it out until I noted the monthly fees. I'm lucky if I can get through a book or two every month, and I usually spend around $10/book (used) on Amazon.com, including shipping. Bookswim is charging $23.99 per month to have 3 books at a time at home, so say I read 6 books every 3 months, that's around $12 more than I'd spend to actually buy the books (used). Details here. I'll be curious to see how well they do.

Love Me Do

Once every few months, when I find myself even more in love with the world than usual, I have a little exercise that I do when I ride the subway. I choose a person at random and imagine that I'm someone who just adores that person, and I list all the reasons that I love him or her. I think of it as a love letter to that person. Sometimes the reasons are things that I can observe, like particularly delicate wrists, or a quickness with the crossword puzzle, or a gentleness with an old person or a child. Sometimes I make things up completely, like how sweet she looks first thing in the morning, or how kind he is to my kids. It's easy once I get started, and I find myself noticing (and creating) wonderful things about complete strangers - not a bad way to start (or end) one's day!

I recently started to think about what I'd want someone to think or say if I were the subject of this exercise. That struck me as kind of a neat thing to wonder about, and I'm kind of surprised that I haven't wondered about it before - that is, for what reasons do I want to be loved? And, how do I want to be loved?

Every so often a friend will do something or even tell me something about him- or herself and I'll think, wow, I love you for that. I love you because you can't stand having your hands get wet when you run. I love you because you smell your shampoo every morning, even though it's the same shampoo you've been using for months and months. I love you because you use the same expressions my parents used when I was growing up. I love you because you act out stories as you tell them. I love you because you use regular expressions in IM.

I haven't come up with definitive answers for the questions of why and how I want to be loved, but I think that the more I can love the people around me, the clearer those will become. For now, I'll just keep practicing.

Waiting For 2 1/2 Hours To Cross The Border Will Do This To You

La Fête du Canada!

P.S. I would lose a LOT of Patriot Points (TM Lisa) if I didn't wish you a Happy Canada Day!

Trivia: What are a Canadian's two favourite colours?

Post your answer in the comments. First correct response wins a box of Kraft Dinner!

Drive My Car

DLang and I just returned from a roadtrip to Montréal, where we attended his friend Isaac's wedding. I'm not sure how it is that spending 18+ hours in a car inspires the heck out of me, but for all the cramped-legs traffic-jammed gas-guzzling environmental unfriendliness, I'll take it. I have so much to share and create that I might burst! Sadly however, I also have a sore throat (maybe from all that singing along to songs on the radio?) which mandates bedtime at a reasonable hour. Just wanted to give you guys something to look forward to, 'cause I know it's been slow around here.

Check back early and often for updates this week. I promise them to you. Absolutely.

Colour Blind

Dear Diary:

I did a lot of fun stuff this past weekend:

1. I went on a concert cruise with Brianna & Lisa. We saw a Canadian band call The Weakerthans who have a song called "I Hate Winnipeg," which is hilare. Good times were had by all.

2. I went to Coney Island's annual Mermaid Parade (crazily enough, if you Google "mermaid parade" the second image result is my beautiful friend Monica, when she attended the parade in 2004). I saw some nice boobies!

3. We had a rooftop BBQ Chez DLang to celebrate my birthday. Living as long as Christ is apparently the last major birthday milestone until I start getting seniors' discounts at Kmart. The weather was perfect and the delicious chocolate cake (from the Bakery Formerly Known As Two Little Red Hens) had a big orange G on it!

4. I went to Kari's birthday brunch at Miriam and enjoyed my first Shakshuka (Marc, I'm expecting a comment for that link).

5. I baked a wedding cake redux/anniversary cake, and delivered it to my old 'hood, where I then enjoyed a delicious dosa.

6. I decided that Keith Mars is catching up with Sandy Cohen as my fantasy dad.

After all that, this is still all I can muster as a blog post. Thank god for RSS, or you guys would be outta here.

Suckers.

Not Young Enough To Know Everything

When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.
-Mark Twain

Bacon Redux

Turns out Mike's request for an ode to strip bacon was a contest of sorts. Mike has chosen a winner, and it wasn't me. The newly-crowned bacon poet laureate is Mike's friend Jeh, who isn't yet my friend but should be because the man can write, and he truly loves the pig.

Behold this stanza of genius:

O strip of bacon,
you the king of the snacka.
A condiment and a meal,
a sidekick and a hero, like the mighty Chewbacca.

You can read the whole brilliant composition here.

It's My Birthday Too--Yeah!

Not ONLY does today mark the start of my 34th year on this remarkable planet, it's also the first day of Summer (officially at 18:06 GMT) AND Recess At Work Day! (via the Freakonomics blog/DC Dave)

Conveniently, I'd been celebrating Recess At Work Day all morning, before I even knew it was today.

Recharge

First Time's Free

In case you're behind in your blogroll, please take note of Miss Brianna's recent intarweb fame. A couple of sites linked to her rant about United Airlines (with whom, incidentally, I flew last Friday night without incident). Linking to her blog is all the rage. Everyone's doing it!

Well, friends, Bri isn't the only celebrity around here! In a shining example of the power of the internets, after my recent brush with death a dude who writes a firefighting blog Flickr-mailed me to find out if he could use one of my awesome pictures on his site. And recently, Mike had nothing better to do and threw me a link.

The hits just keep on coming.

The Older I Get

Dear Nerds,

I love you guys, really I do. I've spent my whole life with you, and I think your brains are hot. Here's the thing, though. When I don't work with you, I can't see how clean your code is, or how fast you fix bugs, or watch you brainstorm algorithms on a whiteboard, so you have to give me something else to go on in a social setting. Wear a cool t-shirt that I can comment on (maybe one that you didn't get on Think Geek), smile when I walk by, if I say "hi" say something back, anything. [Side note to WWDC organizers: How about you help us out here and put conference attendees' company locations on our badges? I can show genuine interest in almost anywhere in the world, but the whole "So, where are you from?" lead-in sounds so contrived and also a lot like "Come here often?" which, no.]

Guys, I'm not trying to pick you up, and odds are I don't want to sleep with you. I'm a friendly girl and I like you, really I do. Even you, guy who when I offered to move so that all of your friends could sit at the same table, said "OK, yeah, get out of here," (but I might like you a little less). I like you guys who got really excited when you found a redraw bug in Leopard (and insisted on reproducing it several times and showing me). In fact, when I later attended a session in which The Curt did a demo, I felt a little like Wanda in "A Fish Called Wanda" when Otto speaks Italian to her. Can you feel the love?

I made a big effort last night at the bash to talk to you. I smiled at you! I even tried to play a fun party game (Would you rather only eat eggs--prepared any way you like, but with only salt & pepper as seasonings--with no adverse health effects, and live for the next 50 years, or only live for 15 more years and eat whatever you want?) and got very little in return. I will laugh at your jokes. Try me. I'm interested in your work, especially if *you're* interested in it - a little enthusiasm goes a long way. You can keep the sarcasm, thanks - I just want to have a friendly conversation. Just give me an in.

Love,
Gillian

Where The Heart Is

Bloggerrific Highlights

Some of the blogs I read have had particularly excellent posts this week. Here are some of the reads that had me giggling:

• Brianna partied with some Swedes: This conference sounds kind of boring, it’s like: børk børk programming, børk børk technology, børk børk gross chocolate mouse that we’re calling cake just to piss people off. We should spice things up.
  
  
• Lisa moved into a new apartment: There were 2 small plates, 8 wine glasses, and 5 shot glasses. And a colander. That is the exact opposite of "just the basics"!
  
  
• Jim ran with the cows of Owensville, Missouri: I tightened my laces and looked over the herd, they looked ready to do business. The business consisted of eating grass and producing methane gas.
  
  
• Griffin wanted to shave: Griffin feels his face which is covered in dried-on cookie dough. "I all prickly! Mommy, I older? I need to shave?"
  
  
• Garth hated on Vista: I close it and it tells me it's not responding (duh!) and that I should wait while Windows tries to figure out what's wrong. Unless it's planning on formatting my drive and reinstalling with XP, it won't ever figure it out.
  
  
• Mike chose the Seven Wonders of Canada: 6. Old Quebec City (Apart from the fact that most Quebeckers probably resent this choice, it's not bad.)

My Point of View

I've been digging the HSBC "Your Point of View" ad campaign for a while, especially the print ads which are in airports everywhere. An exceptionally thought-provoking exercise in a recent therapy session inspired me to create my own series of these ads, for me, based on my own often conflicting points-of-view about the same idea.

Here's the first in the series; let me know what you think!

The House Is On Fire

The last two weekends I've shown complete disregard for my Saturday morning training schedule by staying out all hours on Friday night. Last night, however, I vowed to get serious about training and go to bed at a reasonable hour. My social activities were limited to dinner with Jillian with a J and going to a play that ended at the very reasonable hour of 10 p.m. I was home by 10:30, and tucked in by about 11:15, not to mention mentally prepared to run the prescribed 8.4 miles on Saturday morning.

I fed Memphis right before bed, and vaguely recall her starting to pester me again when I heard sirens and saw red emergency vehicle lights outside my window. The BP* is located on the side of the building, so I don't have a view onto the street - I could just see the glow of the lights, and hear some action outside. I kind of ignored it for a while, then thought it sounded pretty close to home, so I threw on shorts and a t-shirt, and made the executive decision to phone DLang (2:30 a.m. logic: If my run is going to be wrecked tomorrow, his can be too!). I started to tell him that I thought something was going on, and gave him the play-by-play of my observations (flashlights in the backyard, someone thumping around on the roof). When I heard someone outside my apartment, I told him I'd call him back.

Seconds later there was a knock on the door, and I opened it to find a member of FDNY's finest! Now, I've had my fair share of fantasies involving a firefighter on my doorstep, however, none of them ACTUALLY involved fire. The hallway was quite smoky and I wondered, if I passed out, would he have to carry me downstairs? Because that would be awesome. Unfortunately my flirting capabilities were constrained by the thought that my apartment building might really be on fire, so instead of asking him if he'd like to come in for a glass of wine, I only managed to ask if I needed to leave the apartment. He said the CO levels were high and that that would be a good idea.

Moment of self-discovery: When my apartment is on fire my hands are really shaky, which means you shouldn't ask me to hold your martini.

I called DLang back to tell him we were coming over, then herded Memphis into her carry case, grabbed her litter box, my computer (I'm going to WWDC in SF next week, and my Mac is my only cred, yo), clothes for running, and headed out. On the way downstairs I passed about a dozen other firemen (note to self: try for more specific visualization in fantasies - i.e., firemen but NO FIRE), one of whom asked me if I have a CO detector in the apartment. Truth is, I don't know. There's definitely a smoke detector, but I don't know if it's dual-purpose, so I said no. He said, "Oh, you get a spanking for that." Well, hello Mr. Fireman! Now you're talking!

Once outside, I stopped to take a couple of pictures - unfortunately the best one just looks like there are a bunch of ghosts outside the apartment. (Next time I'm going to take some selfies with the men in uniform - I'm sure they'd be flattered, right?)

The moral of this story? I should continue party it up on Friday nights, because if I go to bed early there will just be a fire and I'll end up sleep-deprived and sucking at my run, anyway.

*Bachelorette Pad

An Ode to Strip Bacon

This morning I received email from my friend Mike, who is currently on a big sailing trip somewhere between here and Tahiti.

Gill -

Quick. "An Ode to Strip Bacon".

Help an addict out during his last week at sea.

Hope you are well,
xo
Mike

I replied:

Streaks of red and white
Salty, crispy, slightly sweet:
Pigs are delicious.

This Just In

According to the vet, Memphis' tests were "beautiful" - in other words, there is nothing wrong with her. Except that she lost 28% of her body weight in a few months.

Next steps: Check for GI problems, including - get ready! - parasites.

Grody.

Reality Bytes

I was at a party on Friday night at which I stayed until the wee hours of the morning. I must confess: While I am a relatively social person, and often enjoy hosting parties, there are party situations in which I feel somewhat uncomfortable (and uncool). I kind of expected that to happen on Friday, and was pleasantly surprised when it didn't -- in fact, when LL (with whom I'd come to the party) leaned over at one point and said, "Hey G, it's quarter to 4, just so you know," I actually wanted to stay longer.

As the crowd waned, we ended up as 5 or 6 people in different stages of inebriation sitting out on the roof pondering the mysteries of life. A few interesting topics surfaced, one of which was fear of heights. A few people were, in fact, afraid of heights, and the general speculation was that it's because when they get to an edge, they think about how easy it would be to (voluntarily) step off. That led to a bigger conversation about altering your own reality, and the various ways in which you could drastically change the life that you've created over 20- or 30-some years, within, in some cases, a matter of seconds. And not even necessarily by doing something superextreme, but, for example, by saying something completely ridiculous in a meeting (for reasons beyond my comprehension, the example "I have a purple penis!" was used) - the idea that an impulse might pop into your head and that you don't do anything about it, but think, "oh my god I totally could do/say that and what if I did?" and probably even more, "what's actually keeping me from doing/saying it, and is that thing trustworthy?"

Like I do with practically everything these days, I spent some time thinking about how this relates to my current sitch with DLang, and how we got we got to the reality that is so different from the one we had last year at this time. I didn't come up with anything profound, except that maybe it wasn't one big outbursty impulse that led us where we are now, but maybe more about things that weren't said - which might have made the consequences less identifiable.

In this week's Get Naked, Jamie Bufalino advises, "The idea is to live authentically--that means having the balls to not gloss over your flaws. After all, you want someone to love you, and not just the facade you’ve cleverly cultivated over the years." Reread that, OK? Because it's awesome. That reminded me of a recent conversation about secrets and anxiety, and I think a lot of what happened in the past year has to do with me *not* talking about important things - behaviour which, it turns out, can be as reality-altering as the impulsive blurt.

Showing Her Age

Last year when I took Memphis for her yearly check-up she weighed 17.6 lbs. That is pretty close to her peak, and per the vet, unhealthily high. In an attempt to facilitate feline weight loss (no small feat - just ask Sars and "Little" Joe), we cut her portion sizes down from 1 5.5oz can of food/day to 2/3 of a can. It didn't seen to bother her too much, and a couple of months ago I thought, wow, this is finally working! She is one svelte kitty.

More recently, though, I thought she seemed a little too skinny, and last weekend I finally hopped on the scale with her. She weighed in at 12.6 lbs. YIKES. I already had an appointment scheduled for today for her regular visit (as well as to check out that thing on her nose), and on Tuesday I called to move it up a few days.

The vet took blood and urine samples (it is really hard to get a cat to pee in the little cup, let me tell you!) and we'll get the results on Monday. In all likelihood, Miss Memphis has hyperthyroidism. The good news: It's common, and treatable. Our options will probably be either a drug regime (2 pills/day for the rest of her life), or radioactive iodine treatment. The former would cost ~$350/year, and since she's going to live FOREVER, that just isn't feasible, so I'm leaning toward the latter (which would entail her spending 7-10 days in the hospital and will cost ~$3k, but will be a permanent cure).

The good news in all of this is, it could explain a lot of her food anxiety, and might quell her 4 a.m. "I'm hungry and this is an emergency WAKE UP NOW MOM" urges. It's pretty sad that my BFF with her NEWBORN BABY is getting more sleep than I am with my cat.

P.S. She didn't really have to pee in a cup. CATURDAY TRIVIA: To take a urine sample from a cat, the vet inserts a needle directly into her bladder. And now you know.

Dinner Dilemma

Do I eat the last 6 stems of asparagus from last week's Fresh Direct order, or do I eat some of the fresh new stalks that I bought at the green market on Saturday?


(Above: The basics: Olive oil, sea salt, ground pepper and Parmigiano Regiano)

Anniversary

One year ago yesterday DLang and I got hitched at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Our family and friends joined us afterward at the Brooklyn Society for Ethical Culture for pancakes (with real Canadian maple syrup, of course), eggs, and TimBits. Then a bunch of us headed down to Coney Island to ride the Cyclone and eat Nathan's hot dogs on the boardwalk.

It was an amazing day.

The year that followed has been a lot like that ride on the Cyclone. We've had crazy good ups, and have caught our stomachs in our throats during the high-speed and often unpredictable plummets. Neither of us knows exactly where we're going, or what peak or valley is around the next turn.

I commented to a friend the other day that it's hard to be in this state of transition and impermanence, and he said, "You know, that's all of us, all the time."

Yesterday, DLang and I returned to Coney Island to walk on the boardwalk and eat ice cream and play Skee Ball - and, yes, ride the Cyclone. And even though it's a rough ride, I couldn't imagine having anyone else by my side.

Happy Anniversary, D.

90 Degrees in the Shade

Too Hot
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

It's a hot hot Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend, just like last year when DLang and I tied the knot. Memphis is trying to keep cool by napping. Note that that is also her strategy for keeping warm.

Goals: Week 3

OK, so this goals stuff isn't going so well. However, I feel like I got a lot done this week, so maybe I just need to be smarter about what I'm writing down!

Training Update:

At least training is going well! I ran 4 days this week for a total of 15 miles (including one run to work!).

Goals for Week of May 21:

1. FINISH THAT DAMN CD!

2. Run 15 miles.

3. Do yoga at least once.

4. Bring lunch to work at least 3 days.

5. Write a letter.

6. Clean the bathroom of the BP.

7. Start weight-loss regime (separate post about this to follow).

8. Write at least one more meaningful, less what-I-had-for-lunch blog post.

Not Memphis

Kiki
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

Yesterday I visited my friends A & B (and their sweet sweet baby Daphne) in NJ. This is one of their cats, and this week's UFF Caturday honouree, Kiki.

Book Networks Redux

One of my best-read friends recommended Goodreads (and they seemed to have fixed the error I blogged about previously), so I'm going with them for now. You can find me here.

Gillian Likes To

I know memes are to real writers what Sandra Lee's "cooking" is to real chefs, however, this one was too hilare to pass up.

Instructions: Google "[yournamehere] likes to" (keep the quotes!) and note the top 10 results.

1. Dr Gillian likes to call them ‘essential thinny acids’ and that is why she refers to hemp as ‘the weight loss seed’.
2. Gillian likes to watch movies and play games.
3. Gillian likes to Pout.
4. Gillian likes to examine the poop best in a tupperware sandwich box! [Gillian is cracking up over here.]
5. Gillian likes to grab her feet almost as mu ch as. she likes to grab a barga i n . [Gillian can't explain the extra spaces.]
6. gillian likes to be called gill or gilly or gillybean
7. Gillian likes to walk about - we go for walks often. ... In her spare time, Gillian likes to have tea and scones (well, I'm sure she would if she liked tea) ...
8. Gillian likes to ice ski
9. Gillian likes to unwind here from the hustle and bustle of busy city living.
10. Gillian likes to immerse herself in her photography at all times and is a member of the Welshpool camera club where she has won various prizes for her landscape and macro work.

P.S. Sometimes Googling your own name is downright freaky.

Good To Know

"I think part of why people get so anxious is that we keep so many secrets. Then we feel shameful about things, and worried that people are going to judge us --"

"When really, most people don't give a fuck about anyone besides themselves."

"Exactly! And your friends are your friends, right? Really, what would a friend have to do to make you not be their friend? Like, maybe kill someone?"

"Even then..."

"Yeah. True."

Goals: Week 2

The results are in - I completed 4 of last week's 10 goals, and partially completed 2 others (I brought lunch to work twice, and ran 8 miles).

Training Update:

Our first Group Training Session (GTS) was yesterday morning. I stuck with the intermediate/advanced group, and we ran about 4 miles with a few stops for cross training (things like squats & lunges) along the way. This morning I ran the New York Junior League's Mother's Day 4M, and finished in 41:18 (a 10:19 mile) - not bad considering how out-of-shape I feel! This evening my muscles are satisfyingly sore, and I'm excited that training has resumed.

Goals for Week of May 14:

NOT DONE 1. Finish mix CD for Bri & Ali.

DONE 2. Brush Memphis.

DONE 3. Run 10 miles.

NOT DONE 4. Write a letter.

NOT DONE 5. Do not spend money on food for at least 3 days.

NOT DONE 6. Do yoga at least once.

NOT DONE 7. Clean the bathroom of the BP.

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day to my own Mom, who has taught me how to do so many things, including but not limited to, crocheting, baking, graciously hosting a dinner party for 12, walking in heels, and mixing a decent martini. She also passed along her strong chin and shapely legs, for which I'm grateful. Thanks, Mom - you rock.

Happy Mother's Day to my godmother, Sunny, who taught me (and continues to teach me) about emotional, physical, and spiritual health. At one point she also tried to teach me how to not throw like a girl - hopefully she had more success with the health stuff. She's also the best dog whisperer you'll ever meet.

Happy Mother's Day to Pam, Sunny's partner, who in addition to having a wryly hilarious comment for pretty much every situation, is one of the most generous people I know. She's also Sunny's only link to cyberspace, and recently sent me email that said, Sunny would like to know how to connect to your "blogs"......please write soon - so they might even read this!

Happy Mother's Day to DLang's Mom, Sally, who knows pretty much everything about houseplants (and can teach you a thing or two about nursing, too). It's wonderful to have her in the 'hood!

Happy Mother's Day to DLang's Stepmom, Nancy, who has the awesomest cookbook collection I've ever seen, and will talk to me for hours about food and cats (two of my favourite subjects)!

Happy Mother's Day to new mom Sirrah!, of whom I am constantly in awe. How does she do it?

Happy Mother's Day to Griffin's Mom (and regular UFF reader) Candace, who inspires me to live with honesty and integrity (and doesn't judge me when I don't).

And finally, Happy Mother's Day to all current and future moms, and even to all of you like me who aren't sure but still nurture yourselves and others - like any good mom would.

10 Years!

Sunbathing
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

For as long as I can remember, I wanted a cat. My mom didn't like the hair, so we had poodles instead - but I coveted creatures of the feline persuasion. I collected All Things Cat: stuffed, ceramic, sticky - anything I could get my hands on. Finally, in 1997, having recently graduated and started my first Real Job, I decided it was time to adopt a kitty. My then-boyfriend Greg had friends outside Ottawa (where we lived at the time) whose cat had recently had kittens, and he arranged for me to have one. I didn't care if I got male or female - I just wanted the orange one.

On the eve of Mother's Day at around 8 p.m., I drove out to the McDonald's on Carling Ave. to meet a man with a cardboard box in the trunk of his car containing a tiny orange kitten who fit in the palm of my hand. She came with a can of cat food and a note telling me that her birthday was April 1 and that they'd been calling her "Morris." As we'd recently visited Graceland, Greg & I decided on the name Memphis. She also goes by Mempher, Memipher, Memiflower, Memphy, Furball, The Furb, FOP (Furry Orange Pussy), as well as myriad variations on "Kitty LaRoux" (see: Purry LaRoux, Pesky LaRoux) and has been called the "Softest Cat in the World" on more than one occasion.

And, despite moments of wanting to throw her out the window, I think I'll keep her around.