Mis Tobillos Estan Hinchados

¡Hola desde Buenos Aires!

We arrived safely this morning after an uneventful 11-hour flight. It was the longest flight I'd been on; Ken has flown to Asia a few times so he's a pro. It turns out 11 hours on an overnight flight when you haven't slept for more than 5 hours in the two previous nights is cake. I was asleep before the plane took off, and aside from a brief period of being awake around midnight, I slept until about 2 hours before we landed.

Our apartment is in Palermo Soho, a neighbourhood laden with shops, restaurants, and bars. The apartment itself is super-sweet - it was describe as a studio but I think will be plenty of room for us and the occasional visitor. I noticed a couple of roaches when we first got here and christened them Wally and Eva. On our return from dinner this evening we found that Wally and Eva have a whole family who apparently live in our walls, and didn't scurry away quite quickly enough when we turned on the lights. We added roach traps and spray to our shopping list for tomorrow.

On our post-nap venture this evening we found the local supermarket (at which we purchased the requisite jar of dulce de leche) and a gym that's quite reasonably priced at around $35/month.

Tomorrow afternoon I have an interview with the school at which I'm hoping to take a certificate course so that I can teach English at some point, and tomorrow night we have our first social engagement! Friends of ours from San Francisco are here on vacation and we're meeting them for dinner. Porteños [locals] eat late, so we're meeting them at 9 or 10.

Both of us are kind of stunned, like, holy crap, we live in Buenos Aires.

Things That Can Suck It

1. Justice: I just spent an hour at the Brooklyn Borough Traffic Whatnot to contest a parking ticket I got the day we left for Canada. It was Sunday afternoon and we'd parked under a "no parking during street cleaning on Tues/Thurs/Fri" sign. What I didn't see was the sign at the end of the effing block that indicated that the whole block was for commuter vehicles only, all days and all times. The judge didn't buy my reasoning ("So, that street-cleaning sign only applies to the commuter vehicles?" "No, it applies to everyone." "But only commuter vehicles can ever park there, so really, it's only for them, right?" "Just pay the ticket."). Suck it, Justice.

2. National Grid (formerly known as KeySpan): Earlier this year they sent us a bunch of notices saying they were going to shut off our service. When I called about those, they were all, "Oopsie! We forgot to send you a bill, here's one for $400." Apparently they haven't sent us a bill since then because our final bill is for $500. Suck it, National Grid.

3. AT&T: I just called AT&T to invoke the "I'm leaving the country" clause that should waive the $175 early termination fee. Great, no problem! I just have to send them a utility bill or a bill from a new cell phone carrier with my new address on it. THOSE ARE THE ONLY TWO OPTIONS. Oh, and I can't fax it, because they only have a toll-free fax number that won't work outside of the U.S. Suck it, AT&T.

T-Minus 14 Hours

Our flight leaves tonight at 10. Our stuff is in a state of loosely controlled chaos. The only thing I can't find is the bra without underwire that I bought specifically for traveling. It's plaguing my mind, of course.

Guest Blogger: Memphis

This afternoon I received an email update from SunnyMemphis.
NB: This is Sunny's third time sending email, ever. She is 77.

from Sunny
to Gillian
date Sun, Mar 15, 2009 at 1:02 PM
subject memphisupdate

ivetried to get the old woman to do this but she just gets that glassyeyed look as if to say '' a computer oh my no t me.....i ain't doin' that... soooo i guess i'll just have to play little red hen..this isn't such a ba place---just lonesome without you. The old woman talks to me ,feeds me on time, cleans my litter box, brushes me daily but IT'S THOSE CONFOUNDED OTHER FOUR LEGGEDS. The other day they went downstairs for their before bed treat. SO I went down and sat on the steps.When they tried to come upstairs I gave them my best hissy hiaay.They both backed off and I smiled happily. They both went into the bathroom with the old woman.Then Duke came out and started up the stairs----I hissed and hissed---H just totally ignored me and breezed on by.So much for hissing--he's a saucy brat. So Ill keep you up to date. Miss you both and love you Memphis.

Update on Gillian's Failing Health

Turns out the cleanse was not the cause of my malaise this week.

Turns out it's another kidney infection.

Yay!

On the plus side:

- I paid for extended health insurance this month and actually used it, which makes me feel virtuous (or something)
- I won't be toting a defective kidney to South America
- I am incapable of lifting our heavy boxes labeled "Sort in March" out of storage [minus for Ken]
- Given my recent experience I was able to maintain some dignity (I only cried a couple of times today [minus for Ken])

This is like pre-South America "Land of Milk and Honey" purgatory.

Don't Try This At Home

Reader Discretion Advised: This post contains information about bowel movements. You've been warned.

Still with me? GREAT! If you've been following along at home, you know that last Sunday (and Monday, for that matter) involved a little roadtrip and an introduction to a certain feline to two barky canines. It marked the first days of a year of unemployment and followed much celebration. After a fun week in Waterloo (during which not one, not two, but THREE entire pans of Rice Krispy Squares were consumed), on Saturday I found myself in a health food store. I was just looking for almond milk, but a 7-day herbal cleanse (for the low low price of $19.95 Cdn!) caught my eye. I flipped through the accompanying recommended meal plan and it looked pretty comparable to my regular menu, so I decided to give it a go.

The "kit" contained 2 different herbal pills: one a colon cleanse, to be taken twice daily before breakfast and dinner, and the other a "multi-system cleanse" to be taken twice daily WITH breakfast and dinner. The ingredients lists were quite long and all-natural and honestly, I was skeptical as to the efficacy of something like this, but I was thinking, new beginnings, detoxing, Spring, etc. OK, I was also thinking, wouldn't it be great to lose 5lbs before we get to Buenos Aires?

I started the regime on Saturday morning, and all was well until I woke up Monday feeling a little under the weather. I'm going to be honest with you here: On Monday morning, I pooped three times. Before breakfast. I'd had plans to meet various people in the morning, one of which I cancelled and the other of which was blessedly cancelled. I managed to get myself showered in time for a lunch date, only to have that cancelled as well. At least I was clean, because I promptly went home, curled up under a blanket on the couch, and, much to the chagrin of the people who are used to see me Tiggering around Waterloo, slept for the entire afternoon. Like, for six hours, through ringing phones and barking dogs and a hissing cat. I woke up for dinner, ate a piece of chicken and a few grains of rice, then went back to the couch, at which point I decided to immediately retox because cleansing? Totally not worth it, and I don't care how great I was supposed to feel by day 5.

I can only hope that tango will have all the benefits without the discomfort. And the pooping.

A Supposedly Fun Thing

Last Sunday, following two nights of no-holds-barred alcohol consumption that included Ken and our friend Aaron consuming a 1.5L bottle of White Zinfandel (...for real), we managed to clean out the remaining piles of crap from our apartment and load a bike, several boxes full of the aforementioned crap, an angry cat (complete with litter box!) and two tired, hungover people into a rented Chevy Impala for a roadtrip to Canada.

We (read: I) had originally set a goal for 8 a.m. departure because the drive is 10 hours and our unemployed selves can't afford a fancy motel. However, after another trip to storage, a stop at IHOP to stave off our collective increasingly low blood sugar, and various drop-offs in Brooklyn, we finally hit the road at 5:30 p.m., if by "hit the road" you mean "sat in standstill traffic waiting to enter the Holland Tunnel". At first I was optimistic: As we finally settled into a comfortable speed on the interstate, I suggested that maybe we could drive straight through.

About an hour later we were both done, and we spent the night in a Super 8 Motel in Binghamton. The Super 8 Motel very responsibly keeps the heat off in unused rooms. Given that the outside temperature was around 3F (-16C) and we could see our breath in the room, we cranked the heat. Before we turned in Ken lowered the heat so we wouldn't sweat ourselves out of the room in the middle of the night, but apparently it wasn't quite low enough because at 3 a.m. I had to get up to throw water on the rocks.

During the drive Monday Memphis was calm enough to ride on my lap. The side effect of her being uncontained was a lot of cat hair in the car. Everywhere. By the time we crossed into Canada my left eye was swollen shut and I could only hope that the border guard wouldn't refuse me entry because of suspected pinkeye or because he thought I was a pirate.

We finally arrived in Waterloo about 3 p.m. on Monday. Memphis has been... well, she's been a total bitch since we got here. I get that she isn't thrilled about the dogs (who, incidentally, are about half her size) but enough with the leaky tire routine! I'm sure she'll adjust, and her M.O. this week of waking us up at 5 every morning has made it just a little easier to bid her adios for the year.

Up next: Ken learns Canadian! We kiss babies! Dinner at Swiss Chalet!

Internet > Packing

As the history books will show us, more packing means more blogging! [Ref: August 2007, February 2008.]

There's a lot more purging happening this time around, and in the process I've unearthed some choice bits, like this mixtape outline I made circa 1997:


ANGST MUCH?

Speaking of mixtapes, I also found one that Dos made for me around the same time, for my Route 66 roadtrip. It contains such classics as "Barbie Girl" by Aqua ("come on Barbie let's go party") and "Bandito" by The Refreshments ("Everybody knows/ that the world is full of stupid people") and is appropriately entitled, "Super Funky Driving Tape."

Eat A Cookie

Eating a cookie is my response to all dilemmas this week. For example:

Dilemma! What should I do with my GameCube that hasn't been played since 2003?
Answer: Eat a cookie!

Dilemma! Someone offered me $20 more for a bookcase I'd listed on Craigslist AFTER I promised it to someone else.
Answer: Eat a cookie!

Dilemma! The TEFL school I applied to in BsAs hasn't written me back.
Answer: Eat a cookie!

Dilemma! The cookie I'm eating isn't even that good, but I keep eating it.
Answer: Eat it anyway!

By the time we get to South America I'm going to weigh 400lbs.

Always On My Mind

There are a number of things that I've been thinking about way too much in the last few days.

1. The book Wife of the Chef by Courtney Febbroriello, which has lived up on my bookshelf beside myriad other chef-wannabe books including Michael Ruhlman's The Making of a Chef and The Soul of a Chef. Ruhlman's books are engaging and inspirational and I expect I'll read them again. Febbroriello's... not so much. And yet, YET, that book has lived on my bookshelf for years, as I tote it around from apartment to apartment because in my mind it has become part of the set. Last weekend I even packed it into a box of books to store, along with biographies of Julia Child and Jacques Pépin, because it "goes" with those books. Since then I keep thinking about it how it isn't that good and how I probably won't read it and why am I keeping it, again?

I'm putting it the donate pile.

2. My clothes. Do I really need that new sweater from the Gap? How much stuff should I bring to Argentina? Will I buy stuff there? What if I bring the wrong stuff and I don't look cool and as a result I don't make any friends and I just sit around our flat watching telenovelas and eating dulce de leche out of the jar?

Eff it, I'll keep the sweater.

Also on the subject of my wardrobe, after last week's careful curation we took a couple of boxes to Beacon's Closet this weekend in the hopes that we'd be able to get a few bucks for our castoffs. When we returned, we were informed that they couldn't buy ANY of our clothes because they fell into some grey area, which I suspect is somewhere between "good" and "Goodwill". Bitches.

3. Memphis, with whom I am so in love that I had her tiny face emblazoned on my new credit card: I'm going to miss that beast.

4. Oh my god in less than a month I'll be living in Argentina.

Yay! A Running Update!

For the first time since I started running in 2006, I'm training through the winter. Well, sort of. I've kept up running, even though I'm not training for anything in particular. I've mostly been running on the treadmill, including a fun interval workout that I've outlined below for your training pleasure. This morning I ran a 5k in Prospect Park. (Yes, a week before I leave this fair city New York Road Runners starts having races in Brooklyn. Bitches.) Anyway, it turns out that no matter how much you'd like to think your 5k pace is 8:30/mile when you're running on the treadmill, the great outdoors has a harsh reality for you. And that reality is hills, and also temperatures in the 30s plus wind chill.

I averaged 9:33/mile this morning to finish in 29:37. I was feeling OK about it, too, until my friend Kerner, who had also run this morning, texted me to see how I'd done. He then told me that he "might have won [his] age group" - which of course prompted me to look up his finish time and HOLY SHIT - the dude ran 5:32 miles!

He finished in 11th place. I finished at 2711.

Here's that interval workout I mentioned (from the March issue of Runner's World.

Run intervals of decreasing length, from 7 down to 1 minute. Run the first interval at your marathon pace and work your way up to your 5k pace. Recover at an easy jog between each interval for half the length of the previous interval. For me, this means starting at 10:30/mile for 7 minutes, and increasing my speed by 20 seconds per mile until I hit 8:30 for the 1 minute interval. The whole workout takes 42 minutes plus cooldown, and it has kicked my ass every time I've done it!

But maybe you should ask Kerner what he's doing, because apparently it's working.

99 Boxes of Clothes on the Floor

Tonight Brianna came over to help me sort clothes.

s/help/drink wine and watch/g

OK, that isn't entirely true -- she was also tasked with taking a hard line on any item of clothing on which I was wavering. Our mission was to end up with 4 piles: Keep and take, keep and store, donate, sell*. Guys, I have a lot of clothes, especially considering that I've moved 3 times in the past 2 years and each time I've taken bags - plural! - to Goodwill. Based on the size of the piles we built, I only wear about 1/4 of the clothes I own. And based on the items in the donate and sell piles, I should never, ever buy anything from the J.Crew Final Sale.

Counts so far: 2 boxes to take to Beacon's Closet (to sell, hopefully), 3 boxes and a bag for Goodwill, and 1 box each to take and store.

*Beacon's Closet prices your items and gives you either 35% of their asking price in cash, or 55% as store credit. Some of this stuff is brand new (with tags still on it - I KNOW, don't judge me) so I'm hoping to get a little something for it.

Leaving New York, Never Easy

Since I moved to New York nine years ago, I've traveled countless times, visiting cities as near as Boston and as far away as Nairobi. And even though I've considered moving away, every time I left NY I knew I'd return, because I had a home here.

Until now.

Next month, Ken and I are moving to South America. We plan to make Buenos Aires our home for the better part of a year; to speak Spanish and dance Tango and eat dulce de leche.

In two weeks we'll both be jobless and homeless. I couldn't be more excited.

Between now and March 1, we're whittling down our lives to fit into a couple of suitcases. We're catching up on dentist visits and applying for credit cards without foreign transaction fees (there's only one). We're listening to Pimsleur Spanish lessons on our iPhones and considering the merits of a Kindle.

On March 1, we'll pack up the beast and drive her to Waterloo, where she'll spend the year with two old ladies, two rambunctious toy poodles, and the occasional toddler. We'll be back in NY to bid our farewells during the week leading up to our March 18 departure.

Last weekend I finally did my taxes, and I hesitated ever-so-slightly when TurboTax prompted me to finalize my state return:

More Incentive to Vote

Don't be coy. I'm sure you have *one* more email address that isn't subscribed to DailyCandy yet.

Have you forwarded this link to your friends yet? It's not too late. And I bet that Facebook status is still sitting there idly, waiting for you to tell the world you're voting for Ken. Go on, update that - I'll wait.

I can wait all night.

Rock The Vote!

Readers,

As you know, last year's election was a pivotal one. You donated your time and money, you called voters in the swing states, you crossed your fingers, and you voted. And now, thanks in part to his charisma and intelligence, and in large part to your perseverance and dedication, the leader of the free world doesn't suck.

It's time to elect another smart, charming fellowhottie: Ken has been chosen as one of the 10 finalists in Daily Candy's Get With The Programmer Contest! Get over there and vote for him. He'll make you a caipirinha and dance all Milli Vanilli for you. Girl, you know it's true.

P.S. If you're not already a DailyCandy subscriber your vote will sign you up, but it's actually a really awesome service, and the only one of its kind to which I subscribe! If you hate it you can pour your caipirinha on my shirt (and then just unsubscribe).

P.P.S. Guys, you can vote too. No homo.

Groundhog Controversy!

Early this morning, Groundhog Day, several portly rodents were draggedcoaxed from their lairs to satisfy our collective need to know: When can we seal up our woolies and break out that kicky new spring cardigan?

Near Pittsburgh, the beast made famous 16 years ago by Bill Murray, Punxsutawney Phil (yeah, I had to look up the spelling - "Phil" just isn't a common name these days), saw his shadow this morning and presumably scurried back into his hole. If his night was anything like mine, he'd gorged on 7-Layer Dip and liberally consumed special Steelers-edition Bud Light, then had choked down an Iron City Beer after Santonio Holmes' game-winning touchdown. I'm not feeling the whole "being awake" thing either, Phil.

Here in New York, however, Staten Island Chuck didn't see his shadow and Mayor Bloomberg has declared winter officially over.

WHO SHOULD WE BELIEVE?

I looked to Canada's own Wiarton Willie to be the tiebreaker, but Willie doesn't have a strong Web presence and I couldn't find anything about his prediction this year.

For now, I'll keep the hefty sweaters at hand, but move the cardigan to the front of my closet - you know, just in case.

P.S. Happy Birthday Mom!

For Goodness' Sake

I've been eating these super-hippy shakes lately for breakfast and sometimes even for dinner! I mocked Ken for bringing home protein powder a few weeks ago, but it turns out that stuff is my friend, and when you put it in a blender with some berries and yogurt and milk, you can throw in a handful of spinach and not even notice.

Hippy Hippy Shake
(adapted from Clean Eating Magazine)

- 1/2 c skim milk
- 1/2 c nonfat plain yogurt
- 1 scoop vanilla protein powder (we have Designer Whey, but you know, whatever you like)
- generous handful of spinach (I probably throw 2 cups in there)
- 1 T ground flax seeds (here's where it gets all hippy-like)
- 1/2 c frozen berries (I like strawberries best)
- 1 T agave nectar (mmm... hippy sweetener) (optional; you could also use honey or maple syrup)

Directions: Blend. Drink.

I'm also waaaay into oatmeal these days, and pretty much just thinking about it makes my mouth water. I make McCann's Quick-Cooking Irish Oats (mmm... endosperm).

Gillian's Mouth-Watering Oatmeal
(adapted from Clean Eating Magazine)

- 1/2 c oats
- 1/2 c skim milk
- 1/2 c water
- 1 tsp almond butter
- 1 tsp honey
- 1 T ground flax seeds
- cinnamon
- salt (get the good stuff for this - it's expensive but so worth it)

Combine the first 3 ingredients in a small saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring, until it turns into oatmeal. Remove from heat and stir in almond butter, honey, and flax seeds. Sprinkle with cinnamon and salt. Enjoy with a cup of Earl Grey tea in your favourite mug.

Happy Inauguration Day!

Happy, indeed.

Inspiration

A friend put a link on Facebook to one of his friends' most amazing Flickr photostream (seriously, I could spend days looking at her pictures, which are mostly of pages from her illustrated journal). That inspired the treatment of this photo of Hermosa Beach. I used Poladroid (via Amy) to get the Polaroid effect, then added the drop shadow in Photoshop. Fun!

DYKWIL?* Volume 5

1. Hot chocolate (especially the spicy kind!) on a cold January afternoon.

2. Psyching myself up to run for 30 minutes and stepping on the treadmill just as a new episode of "30 Rock" is starting.

3. This little beast:


* Do you know what I love?

Feline Bliss

Feline Bliss
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

Some friends came over today to eat eggs and waffles and apparently, to pet Memphis. She wasted no time in coopting Jessica's lap and stayed there for most of the afternoon. As it was a mere 9°F (-12°C!) outside, I'd be quite happy to spend the afternoon napping as well.

Stop, Collaborate and Listen

For the last few months I've been trying to become a better listener. A friend of mine (who is my inspiration for lots of things lately, holla Ali!) told me that she did this a few years ago, consciously, and I've been trying since she told me.

It turns out that listening is harder than it sounds.

When someone tells me a story, I have a tendency to want to share a similar experience. I've always thought of this as a form of commiseration, almost like I'm giving the other person *permission* to feel however he or she feels. I considered it a way to let him or her know that it's OK to have experienced that, because I have too! Like, I felt the same way once, so it's totally cool that you do - let me tell you about it!

In most cases, however, I interrupt you to tell my own story. And I've realized that when I do that, you don't usually finish your story, and the conversation derails (thanks in part to my compulsion to add at least 50% unnecessary backstory/detail to any story I tell). Not much permission there, and not much listening going on either.

So, I'm working on that. If you notice me interrupting you, let me know - I promise I'll try to listen.

Christmas Hangover

After many festive Christmas celebrations in Waterloo, we're back in NY just long enough to unpack, catch the Rockettes tomorrow night, then repack for a quick trip to Los Angeles for New Year's. Then we'll start Hotbody January to burn off the Bailey's. It was all worth it, of course.

P.S. Remember Charlie, the young lad for whose birth I undertook the Amazing Race almost two years ago? He's becoming quite a character.

Merry Christmas Eve!

Snow Globe
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

We're flying to Toronto for a few days and will return Monday with bellies full of Mom's homemade cookies and a CF card full of pictures of Charlie. Merry Holidays everyone!

Christmas Cookies!

Christmas Cookies!
Originally uploaded by hickswright.

I didn't take any pics of this year's Christmas Cookie-Baking Festivities, but as it was one of my finest showings I'm very grateful that Tyler did! At one point I had not one but TWO KitchenAid stand mixers whirring away. Good times. If you haven't yet made the Chocolate Toffee Cookies over at Smitten Kitchen, hie thee to the kitchen! And save a couple for me, because they sure didn't last long around these parts.

Still A Runner!

I just returned from a 4 mile run. I'm pretty sure that's the first time I've voluntarily gone running in close-to-freezing temperatures, especially with a plethora of excuses not to go (it's almost dark, the sidewalks are icy, there's a container of eggnog in the fridge that will almost certainly go bad if I don't drink it, mixed with rum, in the next 10 minutes). After all, I did drop a benjamin on a pair of fleece-lined Lulu pants for days like these.

Happy Winter Solstice!

A Very Special Caturday

My company generously gave everyone everyone a Flip MinoHD for Christmas, and I will be using mine to do what any self-respecting cat-owner wielding a camcorder would do: Put video of my cat on the internet.



Featuring a sonata composed by Ken!

Not A Creature Was Stirring

The following is an annotated series of text messages from Ken earlier this evening.

Success!*

Plus I saw [ex-coworker #1] AND [ex-coworker #2].

Plus I found a dead mouse in my shoe.

Plus it may have been there while I was seeing them last night.

s/seeing/wearing**

Plus I'm eating a Vietnamese sandwich.***

*He'd been picking up a package at the post office for me! What a guy.

**Geek for "I meant wearing, not seeing, in that last message."

***Hanco's bánh mì. I was very jealous.

I don't even know how to follow all this up, except to say that when I asked him more about the mouse, he said he found it as he was taking his shoes OFF. He'd had his shoes on WITHOUT SOCKS and had been wearing them for approx. an hour before he investigated a lump in the toe only to discover the rodent in question. AN HOUR. His toes were touching a dead mouse for SIXTY MINUTES.

No wonder Memphis was so interested in his shoe earlier this morning.

Treats!

A couple of weeks ago I finally made good on my promise to pay it forward: Brianna, Kajal, and Tyler were all recipients of Chocolate Chip Cookies 2 Ways: The heavily-blogged NYTimes recipe (which I have to admit, totally lived up to the hype), and Martha Stewart's Thin & Crisp variety (very different from the NYT recipe, and also very delicious).

Tyler's now playing over on his blog, and there's still one comment up for grabs. I suggested he gift a pack of postcards showcasing his amazing photography, and he's also an excellent baker. So if you're a blogger, you might want to head on over to leave a comment for Tyler!

Up And At Them

Thanks, friends, for all your supportive comments! I'm happy to report that I felt much better today, and even went outside, where I learned that Winter had started since I'd been inside, and I was tempted to return to my den to hibernate until Spring. By now I'm sure all interested parties have googled my affliction, so I'll spare you the details. (It really isn't that exciting, although the treatment is a hoot.)

Here are some things I learned while spending five days at home. Please note that I spent three of these days in bed, and two of those I was delirious.

1. My upstairs neighbours have a cleaning person who comes on Wednesdays. Their vacuum is very loud. And the cleaning person is very thorough. And may wear clogs (like, the Dutch wooden kind).

2. I am a terrible, terrible housekeeper. I saw so many cat-hair tumbleweeds and dust bunnies while I was huddled under the covers in a ball, staring at the radiator, that today I texted my neighbours to get the name of their clog-wearing cleaning person. [Richie.*]

3. CBS.com has 4 seasons' worth of the original and awesomer "90210"!

4. The fourth season of the original and awesomer "90210" is not enough to entertain a person through a week of being sick, evenespecially if that person is delirious for two of the days.

5. Memphis sleeps behind a box in the closet. I don't even know how she can get back there. Weirdo.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

P.S. Meredith said "Richie." on "The Office" tonight which is totally a shoutout to this blog. Holla!

Me, My Kidney, and I

I have a kidney infection.

I wasn't going to blog about this but by now any of my co-workers who read UFF know why I haven't been at work this week anyway, and since my diet of apples and chocolate milk hasn't caused any sort of remarkable weight loss (which, really? that would have been the one upside to this whole ordeal), they won't suspect that I've been away at a spa retreat. Trust me, it's been no retreat.

Last night I felt particularly crappy and Ken was out at class, so I called my mom. When she answered the phone I promptly reverted to being seven years old by blubbering, "Mommy, I'm so sick!" [-10 Dignity Points] Anyway, she was awesome. She gave me all the best Mom-advice possible.

Mom: You need to drink lots of water. Are you drinking lots of water?
Me: Yes.
Mom: Gillian, *promise* me you are drinking lots of water.
Me: I am. And apple juice, and chocolate milk.
Mom: Well, the apple juice is good, but not too much chocolate milk.
Me: I'm drinking two half-cup servings of chocolate milk per day.
Mom: Oh that's fine, as long as it's not a quart a day!

Apparently she'd mistaken me for her other child.

Also, I wasn't kidding about eating *only* apples and chocolate milk. Last night I spread some almond butter on the apple slices 'cause I was feeling wild. So I talked to Mom about whether she thought getting some Ensure or something like it would be a good idea.

Mom: Yeah, sure, that can't hurt.
Me: OK, I think I'll go get--
Mom: Oh no, you won't go get it.
Me: It's OK, I'm going over to Leslie's in a bit--
Mom: Oh no, oh no. You're not going anywhere. You're not to leave the house today, and I think not tomorrow either.

Which, yeah, considering I hadn't been out of bed for more than two hours at a time, and considering that I get a massive pounding headache every time I turn my head... She's probably right.

So then, for the first time in 15 years, I had to call my friend and tell her that I couldn't come over "because my mom won't let me."

[I do feel better this afternoon, and even though I stood her up last night, Leslie was awesome enough to send over dinner for tonight! Which is good, because I think we're out of apples.]

Caturday Plotting

I knew it.

via Gill

Geriatric

When I showed my friend T the picture of my hot hot sock, he immediately laughed and said, "Oh my God, you're SUCH a geriatric!" Then we ran home from work tonight, and oh my God, I am *such* a geriatric.

I haven't run since the half-marathon last month, save for 20 minutes here and there on the treadmill, which doesn't really count. For the first two of tonight's four miles, I felt like I haven't run in a year or more.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: That ain't me no more. Hotbody November is ON, People! In fact, I'm off to the gym for a little lifting and then a yoga class. Stay tuned.

I Can't Remember the Last Time This Happened

Sometimes, Not Always

I'm Too Sexy For My Sock

Lately I've had a bit of pain in my heels, especially the left one. I'd chalked it up to the shoes I'd worn to run the marathon in September, which had already run too many miles before I went and added another 26.2. While we were in Berlin, I mentioned it to Meredith and Philip, both experienced runners and triathletes, and Philip suggested I might have something called plantar fasciitis. I'd never heard of that and figured that when I finally replaced my shoes I'd be A-OK. A few weeks and a pair of new running shoes later when I still had pain, Ken pulled out the ol' sports medicine bible and looked up PF. It described athletes at highest-risk for the condition as long-distance runners [check!] with high arches [check!], and worn-out shoes [check-o-rama!]. It might just as well have added, "especially if you are a red-haired Canadian girl with a penchant for red wine and things that are orange."

Yesterday I saw a sports medicine dude to have my hooves checked out and sure enough, I have plantar fasciitis. Thankfully, contrary to the advice in the sports medicine book, I don't need to take a break from running. Among other things like ice massages, I need to stretch my calves a lot. Fortuitously, last night I hung out with friends who are also runners. They told me about their experiences with plantar fasciitis and shared with me a neat little device that helps keep tension on the plantar fascia and alleviate symptoms.

And that, dear Reader, is how I came to be lounging on the couch wearing one of these:
I know. I'm turning myself on, too.

Anyone Else Predicting a Baby Boom in August 2009?

And a huge Democratic victory in 2028?

Oh Hell Yeah!

I've never been so happy to call this country home.

Democracy Is My Homeboy

This morning my American boy roused himself out of a deep slumber at 5:30 to hit the polls. For a few minutes I lay in bed considering my Canadianism (yes, I did vote in the recent federal election), and at the last minute decided to join him in line at the polling station.

Outside the polling center, the line wrapped around the corner and well down the next block. It looked insane, but moved quickly, and once we were inside the elementary school gymnasium, we only waited a few minutes. We saw a few voters still wearing pajama pants and even a bathrobe at that early hour.

It was awe-inspiring to see that many people out to cast a ballot. Democracy is good times.

Vote.

Because you can.

Chicken Squash Action

As is oft the case, last night I was ambitious. We wanted to go to First Saturday at the Brooklyn Museum (British rock! Fun!) and in honour of the NYC Marathon this morning, I had supportive signs to make (Go Tiernan! Go Dawn! Go Jim! Go Robert! Go Paula!*) and plans to make a batch of Sticky Cinnamon Rolls to share with my fellow cheerleaders.

Two out of three ain't bad: We danced to Blur and Elastica and I managed to eke out a couple of Bristol board signs, but the cinnamon rolls remained at their first rise overnight. I completed them later this afternoon with great success. Really I should be blogging about those, but I also made a delicious meal tonight that involves all things Thanksgiving, things which happened to be in our fridge even though there are 3 weeks until the culinary event of the year. And despite previously detailing how to create a Bunny Cake, I've never posted my very own recipe. And so, without further ado, I give you:

Chicken Squash Action (named by Ken)
Makes 4 servings

2 tsp olive oil
1 onion, sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 c sliced mushrooms
1/2 c celery, diced
1 T fresh sage, minced
1/2 c red wine (I used Vampire Pinot Noir)

3 c butternut squash, in 1/2 inch dice
1 c chicken broth

1 c cooked wild rice
6 oz cooked boneless skinless chicken breast, sliced

In a large pan with a lid, sautée the onion, garlic, mushrooms, celery, and half the sage over medium heat until onion is caramelized, about 10 minutes. Stir in remaining sage.

Deglaze the pan with the red wine (this part smells delicious). Add the squash and the broth. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, covered, until squash is fork-tender (this will depend on the accuracy of your dice), about 10 minutes. Stir in the rice and the chicken breast and simmer a few minutes more, until chicken is heated through. Salt & pepper to taste.

Serve with wine and, optionally, a purring cat nearby. A few toasted sliced pecans would also be a delicious addition, or a few dried cranberries (in fact, I think I'll go add a few of those to the leftovers right now). Bon appetit!

*We met Paula on the subway on Friday night. I didn't see her running today but I'm sure she did very well!

NaBloPo... Something

Two Novembers ago I participated in National Blog Posting Month, and since I'm not doing anything silly like running a marathon this November, I'm going to give it another go. Aren't you excited? Unfortunately, I remembered to write this post at 12:15am on the 2nd. Fortunately, tonight is the night the clocks go back! So I'm rolling my clock back and timestamping this for the 1st. And I can assure you that at least one of the next 29 posts will be more interesting than this one. Two, if you're lucky.

Happy Halloween!

A local non-chain drugstore, the Prospect Gardens Pharmacy, came through with an ample supply of Peeps Ghosts. It's a Halloween miracle! Fueled by a glass of - what else? - Ghost Pines Merlot, I spent the night baking and decorating and giggling at my creation. And while I did that, The Boy carved up a smoochy jack o'lantern. Happy Halloween!

UFF APB: Peeps Ghosts

My most favourite holiday of the YEAR is tomorrow (colours: black and orange! carving big ORANGE gourds! scary movies! ghosts! costumes! CANDY CORN!) which means that tonight I will partake in one of my all-time favourite activities. And after that I'll make the brownie graveyard. Making this thing makes me insanely happy, in no small part because the Peeps Ghosts are so perfectly to scale with the Milano cookie headstones. Also they're crazily cute AND delicious!

One glitch: I can't find them this year. I've been to several Duane Reades, Target, a Food Emporium, a Walgreens and a CVS, all to no avail. My last hope is the Key Food in my 'hood, but if you've seen them anywhere in Manhattan or Brooklyn, please let me know. You could save Halloween - I'm just sayin'.

Breeding Ambivalence

More in the Perspective Series

Running Dork

For the record, those are not longhorns. That's rock 'n' roll, baby.

It's Funny Because It's True

Run Forrest Run

On Sunday I ran the Nike Women's Half-Marathon in San Francisco for the 2nd year in a row (well, the third, if you count that I did it in 2006 as the first half of the FULL marathon!). Last year, I PR'd on this course, which is insanely hard. Obviously I hadn't been pushing hard enough during easier (read: flatter) races. Anyhoo, I went out yesterday just 3 weeks after Berlin and not having run more than a few miles since then. I started out all gung-ho (with the 9:44 pace group, natch) and at about mile 3 my legs firmly indicated that they were having none of it. About halfway through, up yet another ginormous hill, I decided to relax and enjoy the race, which meant taking the uphills easy, pushing a bit on the downhills, and smiling a lot. And also not trying to beat last year's 2:12 finish, which I think was an excellent decision, especially given how sore my calves were this morning anyway.

I finished in 2:19 and I had fun doing it. After the race, we spent about 2 hours cheering the full-marathoners until we were hoarse. We met new friends (hi Lin!) for lunch in Mountain View, then went home and drank wine and ordered pizza (because we were really and truly too tired to move - there was almost a fight over who would answer the doorbell when the delivery arrived) and caught up on True Blood. It was kind of perfect.

After the race, with my favourite cheerleader:The deets for you running nerds:
Time: 2:19:37.430
Pace (Min/Mi): 10:39
Overall Rank: 2935
Female Rank: 2704
F30-34 Rank: 472
Splits:
5k 0:32:47.420 10:33
10k 1:05:06.320 10:28
15k 1:41:34.370 10:53

I Like TV

I started a big long post about my new (Brooks) running shoes that made my heels bleed the first time I wore them (so sad) and my even newer (Mizuno) running shoes but then I drank 2 beers and instead decided to share with you my top 10 favourite things about "Gossip Girl":

1. Chuck


2. Chuck


3. Blair's hair


4. Little J's hair (seriously, thank god it doesn't look like this on the show)


5. Chuck


6. Rufus having the balls to tell Lily to go blow (SUCKA)*


7. That Vanessa and Nate weren't in last week's episode


8. Getting rid of Prince Whatever and the incesty Duchess Whatever - GOOD JOB WRITERS


9. While the girls are certainly thin, none of them is in dire need of a Happy Meal like the chicks on (the new and colossally inferior) 90210


10. Chuck

*Liking any story line about the parents officially makes me old. And as I'm also curious about Chuck's dad's dirt on Lily, I'm probably old AND uncool. With bloody heels.

Official Teeny Tiny Pics from Berlin

Then We'll Take Berlin

Guten tag from Deutschland! Thanks to delicious German brew and copious amounts of Nutella I'm well on my way to recovering from running 42,2 km yesterday through the streets of Berlin. The weekend was really amazing. We landed Friday morning and met up with my friend Meredith (also running) and her fiance Philip (from Copenhagen) on Friday afternoon at the race expo. At the expo we ran into my friend Erik, who I knew from NY and who now also lives in Copenhagen and was here to run the marathon. Sometimes the world is very small. Both Ken & I were melting at the expo after our overnight flight, so we only stayed long enough to get my number and then came back to the hotel for a nap.

Saturday we met up with 2 more of Meredith & Philip's friends from Copenhagen, Lotta and her boyfriend, Kim (it's a man's name in Danish!). Lotta was also running, and all three boys were here for moral support, cheerleading, and post-race massages (at which they excelled). At lunch we had a discussion about race goals, and both Kim (a spinning instructor) and Philip (an Ironman triathlete) were adamant that we should have specific goal times. I secretly decided then that I'd try to finish in 4:30, bettering my NYC time by 17 minutes. The course here is very flat, and the forecast was perfect (a high of 68F, and sunny), so I thought I'd go for it.

The first half of my race was perfect. I crossed the 21.1 km mark at 2:10, well on track to finish in 4:30. But I wavered in the 2nd half, and as much as I pushed my legs (and push I did!) I slowed down enough that I finished in 4:37. Which really means that my first half wasn't perfect - I could definitely have paced better to have more energy at the end. I also realized that my 2 18+ mile runs weren't enough, and next year (!) I'll do at least 3.

In the end, though, I felt a lot like the Rancho Carne Toros at the end of "Bring It On": I didn't exactly get the result I wanted, but I'm incredibly happy and proud of what I accomplished. And, yes, I'm planning to do another one next year. But for now I'm taking the week off. Prosit!

I. Am. Freaking. Out.

Usually I count down to important events using the number of sleeps to go until the event, for example, "8 more sleeps until Puerto Rico!" or "4 more sleeps until payday!" (One notable exception is my birthday, to which I count down in shopping days.)

However, in my attempts to count down to the Berlin Marathon I've found myself confounded by the overnight flight. That can't count as a sleep, can it? Maybe as half a sleep? Let's make the safe assumption that for once I'll remember to bring one of the myriad inflatable neck pillows that line the floor of our closet, and that I'll take a Benadryl as soon as I'm buckled into my seat. I think in that case counting the redeye as a sleep is fair, in which case:

ONLY 4 MORE SLEEPS UNTIL THE BERLIN MARATHON!

Whew. I don't suppose hyperventilating right now will help, either in the short- or long-term.

Berlin will be my third marathon, which is really hard to believe. It's also the first time I see the value in a training journal, which I haven't kept regularly the last couple of years, and certainly didn't this year. It would be nice to have answers to such burning questions as:

• Was I freaking out this much last year before the marathon? (Answer: Probably.)
  
• Was I eating as much crap as I have been this week? (Answer: Definitely.)

So I guess I'm on track after all!

The race will be broadcast live on the interwebs. I think you can also sign up to get text messages of my progress. I can't find the exact link right now but it's somewhere on the marathon website, and maybe someone who isn't freaking out right now will find it and post it in the comments. Oh and there are profiles of the top female runners - they must've overlooked me but I'll email them about that right now. It might even be fixed by the time you read this - I hear the Germans are an efficient bunch.

Pay It Forward!

A few weeks ago, my friend, fellow blogger, and talented photographer Elizabeth posted a Pay it Forward chain on her blog. She pledged to send a treat to the first three commenters on the post, in exchange for their promises to do the same on their blogs.

It was my lucky day - I was the third commenter! And on Labour Day, Miss Elizabeth arrived at my apartment for an afternoon brunch bearing this lovely tin:


Isn't it pretty? Let's have another look:


In the busy-ness of hosting brunch I didn't open the tin until much later that day, and nestled inside I found rows of neatly-wrapped homemade caramels. Little did Elizabeth know that caramels are my absolute favourites, and these beautiful sweet treats barely lasted two weeks sitting on my coffee table.


I'm so grateful to Elizabeth for these treats (and I'm hoping she'll be kind enough to pass on the recipe, as I'd love to include them with my Christmas cookies this year!). Now it's time for me to pay it forward. The official rules of the exchange are:

I agree to send something fun, cute, and nice to the first 3 blog owners who post a comment on this entry. In turn, those three will post this information and pick 3 people they want to send something to and so on. Unfortunately, due to postage costs, I can only pay it forward within the United States. If you are interested in participating, be one of the first 3 blog owners to leave a comment!

You have to promise that you will then post about this on your blog, link to me, and then send something to the first three people who comment on your blog so that this continues. When the first three have commented I will email you a request for your shipping address and I will send out something that I hope will make you smile!

The only thing I like more than receiving something fun, cute, and nice is giving something fun, cute, and nice - so comment away!

Bark the Vote

1. Go here.
2. Vote for Puppy!
3. Read Puppy's owner's blog, which is really funny.

PS: If you put lipstick on Puppy, he's still Puppy.

Oops

I met fellow TNTer Amanda earlier this season in Brooklyn. She moved to Boston about a month ago, and since I'm here (that is, in Boston) until tomorrow morning, we decided to go for a run together this evening. We met at (in? I don't know the lingo, help me out) Boston Commons and crossed the Longfellow Bridge into Cambridge, then ran west along the Charles. Amanda had mapped out a six-mile run, which seemed quite reasonable for a school night, but after we'd been running for... a while, and it was dark, we both wondered if the map had been wrong or if we were just running really slowly.

It was definitely the former.

We ran to Harvard and crossed back into Boston over the Larz Anderson Bridge. I think this was our fatal flaw - the original map had us crossing over the Boston University Bridge. I think. At any rate, I ran over 12 miles tonight, 12 miles for which I prepared by sitting in a conference all day, wearing heels, and eating ice cream. Twice. (Really. My boyfriends showed up at lunch for a quickie, then at the break this afternoon there were make-your-own sundaes, to which I have never said no. And during this important political season, we all know how important it is to have a consistent voting record, right?)

Holy smokes, I'm tired. Anyway, I'm not sure what effect this is going to have on the 20 mile run I have slated for this weekend, but I suspect at the very least I'll have to move it from Saturday to Sunday. Or not. I'm hardcore that way.

90210 Tasting Menu

Last Thursday I sprawled out on a blanket under the Brooklyn Bridge to watch "The Shining" and, inspired by a post on Chowhound, brought spinach frittata cut into the shape of a hedge maze, accompanied by rum punch (redrum, anyone?). Last night's season premiere of Gossip Girl was accompanied by dirty martinis (and Virgin Marys for my pregnant friend, who was kind enough to sit through my exclamations of "Oh no she di'int!" even though she hadn't seen the show before. She claims she's hooked).

Tonight, my friends, is the big event: The series premiere of the NEW 90210. Sadly, so sadly, I am in Boston for a conference and will miss Kajal's viewing party, which will almost certainly involve oversized t-shirts and spandex biker shorts, with a few slouchy socks and scrunchies thrown in for authenticity.

My absenteeism did not, however, stop me from brainstorming a tasting menu - perhaps for the season finale next Spring?

We'll start with Brian Austin Green Beans served alongside a Joe E. Frittata. Homemade pizza Doherty is always delicious (be sure to punch it down well after it rises), especially when it's extra cheesy. To wash it all down? We're talking about Beverly Hills here, and certainly only champagne will do. Finally, we'll have fresh, seasonal stone fruit for dessert (be careful not to bite a Peach Pit), accompanied by a glass of Donna Rémy Martin cognac, of course.

Bon appetit!

P.S. The obvious culinary choice for tomorrow night's 2 hour season premiere of America's Next Top Model is to chow down on Doritos and Little Debbie Snack Cakes, then throw up during the commercials.

Who Decides?

> More in the Perspective Series

Morning Commute

Context
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

This morning I boarded the Q-train as usual at 7th Ave. in Brooklyn. I glanced down and noticed grass wrapped around each of the poles that run up the middle of the car - just little patches of wheat grass. It was lovely and unexpected and passengers smiled when they saw the grass. I noticed other people photographing and sketching it, and heard one woman comment that she wish she had coloured pencils with her.

When the train stopped at 14th St., there was an announcement of a brief delay so that one of the cars could be cleared because of vandalism. We gathered ourselves and shuffled off the train amidst quiet comments of "bummer" and "that sucks," and most of us continued our commutes on the R-train that had pulled in across the platform.

Twenty-Six Minutes

That's how long it took me to run 5km tonight. I know, I was shocked too! At the beginning of July I raced that distance and proudly clocked in at 29:20. That, my friends, is a vast improvement, and one of which I am quite proud! And while I have a reputation as a purveyor of baked goods and lover of all things orange, I am not known for my sub-9-minute miles.

Hilariously, as I entered my mile splits (8:24, 8:17, and 8:32, plus 0:52 for the last 0.1) I realized that running faster means you get to stop running sooner. And stopping running sooner means you get to eat ice cream sooner, which is really all the incentive I need.

Size Does Matter

About a month ago I was at Anthropologie browsing their delightful bits (holla Ali!) when I came across these little glasses that cost all of $3 or $4 each. I think they were meant to be juice glasses, but they looked like the perfect size to hold a tiny summer parfait. It worked out just fine, don't you think?


(I haven't been quite as ambitious as the lovely and talented Miss Amy, who's making her own frozen treats this year, but this store-bought variety is really delicious.)

Not Wishing It Was Over

Further to Saturday's post about feeling like a runner, tonight I went for a quickie around Prospect Park. Often when I run the park I find myself hoping it'll be over soon, dreading the North hill (situated at the very end of my run), and sometimes even pausing to walk a few steps because I'm bored/distracted/tired.

Tonight, though, I felt wonderful. I felt present and alive and strong. I smiled at the other runners and the cyclists and the people congregating in the meadow to watch a late-summer movie. I noticed a lone firefly in my path and several bats overhead, silhouetted in the sunset as it became twilight. I found myself hitting my stride on the hill, and when I reached the end, I sprinted home feeling almost euphoric and craving more.

In other words, I felt like a runner.

Reminder

Resemblance

A couple of sites I read linked to Yearbook Yourself today. I went through all the years and I have to tell you, my 1960 image's resemblance to my mom is startling. Mom, if you have a yearbook photo from when you were 16 I think we need to compare it with this:

An Even 14

This morning I laced up and met the TNTers (plus a rogue fellow from work who's training for the NYC Marathon and had decided to join us) at 7 a.m. to take advantage of another of Mayor Bloomberg's awesome ideas, Summer Streets. We started in Brooklyn and ran across the Manhattan Bridge, then covered most of the 7-mile closure of Park Ave., with a detour to go across the Queensborough Bridge and back.



Throughout the run I remarked at how great I felt, even after 14 miles, when I mostly stopped running because I had other things to do - not because I felt like I needed to stop. That feeling was new to me, that whole thing about liking running and maybe even being a runner.

Me? A runner? That's so weird.

I'll Tumbl 4 Ya

I'll be your baby
I'll be your score
I'll run the gun for you
And so much more

Slashfood'd!

Check it out, yo! My apricots picture (below, top right) was featured on Slashfood on Monday!

They were delicious, by the way - I'm going to make them again tonight.

Grillin' Like A Villian

1. Perfection, 2. Sunny Side Up, 3. Drizzled, 4. Bean & Tomato Salad

I'm not sure what the best part of having a backyard is, but having a grill is up there. Tonight for dinner I 'cued up a turkey burger and corn on the cob, and then tried my hand at grilling apricots for dessert. Delish. The sides are a bean & tomato salad (both of which I picked up at the farmers' market yesterday) and spicy mixed greens from a pot in the backyard. The basil in the salad is also homegrown. I love summer.

Love and Ice Cream

Two weeks ago I attended the wedding of my good friends Heather & Doug in Townshend, VT. This was my first trip to VT, though neither my first nor last tryst with the state's most notorious residents. God I love those guys.

Anyway, Heather & Doug asked me to take a few photos for them and I uploaded them to Flickr last night (with minimal processing; learning Lightroom is on my to-do list).

View On Black

Rickrolled

While discussing a mix-tape competition at lunch today, the subject of Rickrolling came up. I sheepishly confessed that in high school I'd been a huge fan of Rick Astley and knew all the words to "Never Gonna Give You Up" (plus others, like the classic "Together Forever").

One of my co-workers looked at me incredulously and said, "You're the only person I know who knew who Rick Astley was before Rickrolling started."

I haven't felt this old since Lisa asked me who Cyndi Lauper was.

Victory!

Worth an Extra Bowl of Ice Cream

The half marathon this morning went really, really well. I finished in 2:15 - a few minutes longer than it took me last time, but I'm still thrilled with the results. Once again this year I got all choked up running through Times Square - TIMES SQUARE! I ran through TIMES SQUARE this morning! - and had to consciously regulate my breathing as I ran across 42nd St. to the West Side Highway.

This afternoon I napped and read the paper and did yoga, all things I would normally do on a Sunday afternoon. Then I ate two bowls of ice cream, because I ran 13.1 miles this morning.

A few months ago Sirrah! asked me if I considered myself a runner. "Nah," I scoffed, "I just run when I'm training for something. I'm not really a *runner*." This morning, however, I really felt like a runner, which was kind of strange and cool. I wonder if that feeling will stick around. I hope so.

8/4/08: Updated with my splits, for posterity:

Mile 1: 10:38
Mile 2: 10:42
Mile 3: 10:29
Mile 4: 9:55
Mile 5: 10:27
Mile 6: 10:20
Mile 7: 9:59
Miles 8 & 9: 20:14 (I forgot to split at Mile 8 in Times Square because I was so engrossed in the awesomeness!)
Mile 10: 10:30
Mile 11: 10:35
Mile 12: 10:31
Mile 13: 9:54
The last 0.1: 1:00

The Grey Shorts Incentive

This weekend I'm running the NYC Half Marathon. It's on Sunday. At 7 a.m. That's right, I'm going to start running 13.1 miles (that's 21.1 km for all you metric-lovahs) at 7 in the MORNING, and hopefully be finished before you wake up. In fact, if I'm quiet, I can slide right back into bed without you even noticing I was gone. I promise to shower first.

The half marathon also marks the halfway point in my training (holy smokes!) AND, with your help, I'll be well over halfway to my goal of raising $4500 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

If you've been thinking about donating but then also thought, "What's in it for me?" well, friend, wonder no more. A few weeks ago I purchased a pair of grey shorts. At the time I wondered to myself, "Self, why don't I have any grey shorts? Only black. Weird, I think I'll go for it!" So I did. Then I ran 8 miles in them. Then I remembered why I don't have any grey shorts, and it has to do with sweat. Unflattering sweat. Still unclear? OK, it's unflattering CROTCH sweat.

If my fundraising tally hits $2500 before Sunday, I will run in grey shorts, AND post a post-race picture. It may not be quite as appealing as other fundraising ploys I've seen, but trust me that it's hilarious, and will likely cause me embarrassment. And aren't hilarity and embarrassment the two key tenets of the internets? Oh, and porn.

Donate here. Or here.

And here: http://pages.teamintraining.org/nyc/nikesf08/gilliang.

So Tempting

This is why I might have to get cable this fall.

Update: Joe E. Tata is joining the party, too. GOOD TIMES. I just hope Gabrielle Carteris is too busy looking after her grandchildren to sign on.

12 + 99 = 4

Or, Ambition + Temperature = Reality

I had grand plans to run home from work tonight, plans which were thwarted when, about 3 miles into my run, I realized that it was 99°F even along the waterfront, and that crossing the tourist-laden Brooklyn Bridge and running up fume-y Atlantic Avenue in that heat was really going to suck. So I cut my run short after 4 miles.

Fortunately I sweated enough to still feel hardcore.

Training update: I ran 10 miles last Saturday, a totally beautiful run starting and ending in Prospect Park, and across both the Manhattan and Brooklyn bridges. The weather that morning was perfect, and I felt great. Tuesday night I had another hill workout, which wasn't exactly *fun* but I (and my calves) survived.

Count to Four

Even if you've already seen this, watch it again. It's so happy-making.

Street Cred

Overheard in the men's room after tonight's Ani DiFranco concert:

"We made it, guys. We earned some major street cred." Pause. "Use it wisely."

Piperlime Is The New Zappos

I'm a longtime spender at Zappos.com, often ordering 4 or 5 pairs of shoes at once, sometimes with multiple sizes or colours of a particular style. Free shipping! Free returns! More often than not, Zappos upgrades your shipping so that you order one day and the next day you get that magical email: "You have a package - please pick it up at the front desk." I love being able to sort by style, colour, and even heel height. In short, I'm really fussy about shoes. Zappos has been there for me through many changes of season, during which I inevitably become anxious about such decisions as whether or not to show my toes at work (currently yes) and whether I should buy boots with a heel (undecided).

Enter Piperlime, at whose email I scoffed when I first received one a year or two ago. "Oh, that's cute," I thought smugly, "Gap is trying to compete with Zappos with a shoe site. It'll never work." But I didn't unsubscribe, and eventually this year they got me with an email about trendy summer gladiator shoes.

The truth is, no matter how picky I am about footwear, I'm no fashionista, and I'll take all the help I can get. It didn't hurt that I'm keen on sandals that are a) flat and b) cover much of my feet, so the gladiators are already up my alley. But to have some sort of fashion expert reviewing the shoes and giving me suggestions seemed like a good idea, and I ordered a few pairs. When the shoes arrived, Piperlime's packaging charmed me: The inside of the shipping box is printed with Piperlime's sweet limey logo, and the invoice comes tastefully tucked into a lime green envelope. To top it all off, each shoe box came wrapped in brown tissue paper secured with a green lime sticker. Sweet times!

I decided to keep only one of the three pairs, and the other two pairs have been languishing in their boxes for the past month or so, because I vaguely dreaded the process of going to the website to print out a return label (which I keep forgetting to do at work, where I have access to such essential items as a printer). Today I finally decided to at least package them up so I could print the label on Monday and I was delighted to discover a self-adhesive return label IN THE BOX! Zappos, take note.

Now that I have a cool pair of summer sandals, I'm almost looking forward to deciding whether to get mid-calf or knee-high boots this Fall.

O Canada

In honour of Canada Day, UFF proudly presents a brief installment of Canadianisms: The Expressions Edition.

Expression #1: Had the biscuit

Meaning: Is broken or no longer working (electronics), has gone bad (food), is dead/dying (plants, pets). I read somewhere that during wartime, the mattresses placed outside a first aid tent were called "biscuits," and when a soldier died he was placed on the mattress - hence he'd "had the biscuit." It's more commonly attributed to the host used in the Catholic sacrament for the dying.

Usage Example 1: "My watch stopped working again. I think it's had the biscuit."

Usage Example 2: "These cherries have had the biscuit. I'm going to throw them out."

Usage Example 3: "That hydrangea's had the biscuit. I guess that's what happens when you forget to water it."

Expression #2: Fucking the dog

Meaning: It's not what you think! To fuck the dog simply means to waste time. I don't know the origin because I'm old enough to know better than to Google "fucking the dog," but by all means knock yourself out (and don't blame me if you're forever scarred).

Usage Example: "My hard drive at work finally had the biscuit, so I fucked the dog all day."

Happy Canada Day!