Tuesday, October 31, 2006

 

I Really Like Nuts

I periodically go through…let’s just call them “phases”. During these phases, I resolve to become thinner and healthier.

1. I buy all new vitamins. Most of my new vitamins are both foul smelling and the size of horse tranquilizers. At the same time, they are usually expensive as they are “organic” and “food-based” and “targeted at stupid people on health-kicks”. These vitamins will make me nauseated for 3 to 4 weeks. At that point, I will stash them in a cabinet until they expire or it is time to buy new ones…whichever comes first.


2. I will do what I like to refer to as “cross-training”. I will go to the gym every day for about 4 days. At the gym, I will do 45 minutes to an hour of cardio followed by weights and abs. Then, I will stretch…oh, how I will stretch. I will feel virtuous and go to bed early. On or about the fourth day, I will get cranky and/or have a really bad day. I will remind myself that “no one is paying me to be thin” and “damn it I want a glass of red wine”. I will go directly home (Do not pass the gym. Do not burn 200 calories.) and open a bottle of wine. One bottle of wine, half a pack of cigarettes, some dark chocolate and a frozen pizza later, I will feel guilty and crawl off to bed. The next morning, I will resolve to never, ever be so gluttonous again and vow to go to the gym. At least for 4 days…


3. Just to spice things up, I will decide to try a new diet or institute some major dietary restrictions. If I can fulfill both criteria – hey, that’s just a bonus. Most recently, I embarked on a “Raw Food” diet. This involves lots of produce and sprouts, raw seeds and nuts, and stuff that is put in a dehydrator. Obviously, I am not doing this diet/lifestyle justice. Then again, that’s not my job. What’s important is that I get to say things like “I eat a lot of nut cheese” in a car full of my colleagues. Oh yeah, good times. Even better is when they calm down enough to ask how one makes nut cheese, and I tell them about the “nut milk bag”. Needless to say, I had steak for dinner that night.

So, this is just to warn you that I’m in a “phase” right now. I went to the gym today, I’m in bed before 11pm, and I’d take the vitamins if I wasn’t so full of benadryl (yes, the fucking hives are still lurking). But no nut cheese this time. I mean, a girl has to have some self-respect.

Saturday, October 21, 2006

 

My Latest Big Idea

When I was in grad school at Berkeley, I had the great fortune of participating in the annual Bay-to-Breakers Race. But don't let the "race" part fool you. It was the most fun I've ever had while running. It's a 12K race from the Bay Bridge to Ocean Beach in SF. At that time, I wasn't a real runner. It sounded fun...a local band at every mile marker, a costume contest, a concert by Eddie Money at the finish line (o.k. beer and bbq at the finish line)...I figured I'd run a mile or two and then walk. On my BART ride over from Berekley, I was on the train with serious runners (you can spot their 0% body fat from a distance), people in costumes (the guy in the giant Barney suit in running shoes displayed total commitment), and many amature runners and musicians (death to the man with the sax who kept playing "I love you, you love me..."). Things were starting out well.

When I got to the starting line, there were 10's of 1000's of runners lined up. There were flour tortillas flying like frisbees. There were a number of guys (there's a group costume contest) running as a land shark (they ran in a straight with fins on their head...I can't describe the visual joy), and beer flowing freely. I couldn't find the actual number of registrants, but more than 100,000 people ran the course. It took me 45 minutes to actually cross the starting line (otherwise I clearly could have won that BMW instead of that skinny Kenyan guy). I ran the first mile, and there was a band. So I kept running. Then I ran the second mile... During the race, there is a really steep hill. I thought of quitting. But there was a guy in ski pants, a parka, and cross-country skis who WALKED up the hill. I kept running. People sprayed us with hoses, handed us beers, and let us use their bathrooms. So I kept running.

I ran past Jerry's Kids (a group of guys in tie-dyed t-shirts pushing a keg in a wheelbarrow - Jerry GARCIA's kids), a group of people pushing a tiki bar on wheels with actual working blenders, and a number of guys running nude except for running shoes (and everyone they passed kept saying "Ow, that must hurt"). So I kept running. And I talked to a totally random but totally interesting people. At the end, I crawled out of the park (remember, I wasn't a runner at the time so bits and pieces hurt) and ate a sweaty but thoroughly enjoyable brunch.

So, to make a long story longer, I have a plan. I think we should have a blogger meet-up of sorts this May. At the 2007 Bay to Breakers. And I think we should have a costume theme. Maybe we could win a trip to Vegas. Hey, a girl can dream.

Let me know if you're in for the run. And send costume ideas. And nothing that chafes, please.

Monday, October 16, 2006

 

Your Dreams Miss You...

(EDITED FOR LESS RED-WINE FUELED HYPERBOLE!)

I don't know if you've seen the commercial for that new sleep aid where Abe Lincoln and the GroundHog are waiting for the sleepless pudgy guy, but it got me thinking...I've left my dreams waiting for quite some time. I could talk about the heartfelt desires that have been crushed. I could talk about the dreams of making the world a better place that have been laughed down. Or, I could be true to myself and make it fun and completely devoid of meaning. After all, I dream about famous people and talking animals, too.

...this is the old beater I picked out (and Ah-sweep-ay bought) and was subsequently sold. I will one day own a true desert beater.


...this is an awesome bar in Big Bear, CA where I hope to spend many drunk evenings...


...and one day someone in Cancun will throw me a Cuban cigar...


...finally, I hope to one day work the phrase "trick-fucking" into a conversation. Ruby will be so proud.

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