Just one day until our road trip to Louisville begins. We don't have big plans, just want to chill out, ride our bikes, eat good food, and not have any responsibilities for the weekend. All three of us are feeling like this. Fred's survived a vet visit and a grooming this week. Chris has been sick. For me, having just survived two days of an accounting/finance class, the idea of not thinking of anything profound is luscious beyond words.
Most of my life I am a low maintenance, geeky, tom-boy woman. Which can be awkward given how shee-shee this neighborhood is. Tonight Chris dropped me off at the library to return some DVDs, and I ran like a twelve year old down the sidewalk, only to have the door held for me by one of the well-groomed women of the area. Oops.
But one evening every 5-6 weeks, I go to the salon for 2 hours to have my hair "done". So this is when I read all of the girly magazines - Cosmo, Glamour, InStyle. I even flipped through "O" last night. I actually bought a (very cute) purse last winter based on something I read while waiting for the paint to dry. And for 24 hours, I fit the neighborhood thanks to the talented work of my stylist.
But alas, all good things must end, so I'm off to wash my hair and go back to being myself again.
It's not even Labor Day, but I think we're entering fall around here. The morning Fredly-outing now departs in the dark, both of us trying to wake up despite our bodies KNOWING that no one goes for a walk in the dark. The first 20 minutes of our walk take us through back neighborhoods where we're all alone except for 2 walkers racing the hill. Lights haven't come on, cars aren't on the road, all is quiet. It's a sleepy type of morning, which means Fred has to check every blade of grass, and every place any dog has peed in the last 6 weeks. Thoroughly. Test results won't be back for an hour, please wait here.
When we finally pop onto the main drag through town, the sudden jump in busy-ness is startling. It's like walking out of your bedroom to find a party going on. With a band. Instead of a constant stream of cars, they come in clumps, but there are plenty there. There are runners out looking sleek and supple. Which would sort of be the flip side of where I am at the moment. I'm still in that early morning flexible-as-an-I-Beam stage. And I'm carrying a bag of dog poop. So I get my enjoyment from the runners who look a bit more like I feel. Stumbling a bit, a little less perfect, but still getting the job done. Past the favorite coffee shop where they haven't put out the bowl of water for good dogs, past the train station where Fredly keeps a careful eye out for the potential marauding public transportation. Both buses and commuter trains are to be disciplined! Hunted! Taught who's boss in this here town! We wander past the house with the world's cutest Yorkie-Poo puppy. Look, made up breed names like Yorkie-Poo are a bit much, dontcha think? This comes from someone who reads Cute Overload.
Finally we hit home and prepare to start a busy day. Fred will be guarding the property, going to the vet, and napping. I'll be taking a class on accounting/finance. I think I'd rather take the shots.
I was reading Houstonist, and they posted the ZZ Top Video "Legs". Man this is the quintessential '80s video. I used to love this one back in college when I was a scrawny ugly duckling with an unexpectedly great pair of legs. Now I'm 25lbs heavier, so the assets have moved...uh...upwards. But it's still fun in a "holy cats, what were we thinking" kind of way.
So I emailed a friend with whom I had lost touch. We were never best buddies, but we just had that casual friendship where we would show up at each other’s parties, drink each other’s alcohol, but maybe not share our deepest fears or secrets.
Anyway, she was on a mutual friend’s mailing list for a recent email, and knowing she had moved to New Orleans a few years ago, I thought I’d check in on her. And now I’m feeling really bad that I didn’t make a greater effort to follow up with her immediately after Katrina. Her house was flood damaged which meant a total gut of the inside. She got started early, so fortunately it was completed in 8 months. She stayed with a Houston friend for four months, and these days she’s struggling with the high cost of everything in the N.O. area. She’s not sure she can afford to stay. It does make me wonder if of all of those people who moved back, whether a lot of them are going to get driven out again because basic survival is beyond their reach.
Here's hoping she makes it!
Update: I was talking with Tammie, and she mentioned: I've been watching shows lately about NO and I think that it will become the oasis/hide away for the very rich and none of the locals will be able to afford it.
So we're at the end of day 3 of antibiotics and the hubby is once again running a 101.5 fever. Bummer. This means it's a virus, and it's certainly not letting go.
It also meant that this afternoon I had "take the dog to the groomers" duty. After 3 years of campaigning, Chris finally convinced me to take him. I think I am now officially ready for the first day of kindergarten, should we ever have kids. I felt so bad when I walked out of the groomers, I could have cried. Fred's tail was between his legs, and he watched me anxiously as I zipped out the door as fast I could. When I went back 2 1/2 hours later, he was tied behind the cash register, all fluffed and beautiful. The minute he saw me, he started crying and yipping for me to rescue him from this place that is worse than the vet's. The vet, we at least stay with him, and they usually don't do too much to him any more. Here they gave him a bath. Egads.
I really like Morgan Spurlock a lot. So when his TV show "Thirty Days" came out on DVD, I put it on our Netflix list tout suite. The basic premise of the first show was he lived on minimum wage for 30 days in Columbus OH with his fiancee. Just as in his movie "Supersize Me", he manages to blend humor and despair in his show. It makes for interesting viewing, and definitely makes you think. One of the things they talked about in the show was not having insurance. How naive and sheltered am I? It wasn't until within the last year that I realized how many people I know who either don't have health insurance themselves, or have family who don't have health insurance. To me, that's a frightening thing, especially as I approach the age where apparently body parts start falling off. In the show when they both ended up in the E.R. at one point or another, it ended up costing them a total of $1200. And that's not even for serious stuff. It makes me worry about insurance-less friends!
Another interesting thought experiment was "What is the least amount I could feed Chris and I on if I had to?" I think I could feed us dinner for a week reasonably well for $25. Then if you throw in cereal and milk for breakfast, call that another $5 (Cheerios, we luv ya!), peanut butter & bread another $5, so probably the first week would be $35. It would definitely mean leftovers, and things like pastas and chili that can be made in bulk and eaten in two days. And I could go even cheaper if I didn't include ground beef (although I would split it over three days). Some of those things are staples though, so maybe the second week would be cheaper. And since I was trying to figure if I had to start from scratch, it could definitely get cheaper in the second week when I had things like cooking oil, onion, peanut butter, and garlic leftover from the first week.
They have discovered that it's not your fault if you...er... a few pounds over the weight limit. It's microbes in your gut. Sounds to me like I need to be washing down the coke and donuts for breakfast with a hearty helping of bleach. That'll kill the little beggars and make me a nice svelte weight. Or dead. One of those.
So typhoid Mary (aka my hubby) has been running a fever on and off for the last day and half. He dragged his poor ailing self into work last night to help close, and then we went to Blockbuster to rent a movie. It's been a while since we've been. When we have cable, we don't watch many videos, but with having taken the cable box back last week, we have a sick dude in the house, a bunch of chick flicks, and only a book for Captain Extravert to fill the time between sweats. So straight from work we went to the Blockbuster we occasionally used, and found it absolutely freakin' empty. Nothing left but wire racks and an unlit Blockbuster sign. So then down to Blockbuster #2 where he could only find one movie, but I found...the discount pre-viewed tables. By the time we left I spent $40 for Walk the Line Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (an Angie recommendation) A Very Long Engagement Star Wars Trilogy (with unwanted additions from George Lucas. Jerk) Spanglish Girl with a Pearl Earring and a rental - The Great Raid, and candy.
We are now ready to face the day with 3 chick flicks, and 3 movies suitable for both, and a war flick. Sweet.
My neighbor and I just traded a bunch of tomatoes for a bit of the herb. That would be the thyme, sage, oregano, and mint. I have officially gone over to being a suburban housewife. Because A. I used a reference to the herb to describe actual cooking herbs. B. I'm excited about the tomatoes.
I've been talking to some of my co-workers, and have come to the conclusion that we can't afford kids. One co-worker's 7 year old boy plays hockey. Joining the league costs him $1300 per season, and that doesn't include equipment or the additional cost of tournaments. Another has a 6th grade daughter who's on the competitive softball squad. Another $1300 spent, not including travel, lodging, and meals. Her first tournament is this weekend in Philly.
Not to sound like the grumpy old man here, or anything, but the first few years I played grade school softball, we got shirts. We had to supply our own shorts because the school wouldn't supply softball pants, that was way too expensive. (As a side note, this probably spawned 20 little feminists, given the boys all were given pants. And trust me, we noticed.) I think in 6th grade, we finally got those dorky stirrup pants, and that was a huge, hairy deal. I can't even wrap my mind around $1300 for a kid to play anything.
Via Asymmetrical Information, I started reading Forbes’s article about why not to marry a career woman. It’s the kind of thing that would have had the top of my head blowing off the first few years I got out of college. But now…well, it’s too late! AHAHHAHA, sweetheart, you’ve fallen into my nefarious career-woman trap! THERE IS NO ESCAPE!
Ahem. Excuse me. Didn’t mean to let that slip out.
As I was saying, there was a point at which this would have made me just a little angry. But now I can read this with a sneer on my face for anyone who isn’t man enough to marry a career woman. C’mon. Meet someone more attractive at the office? Maybe. It’s been happening since women entered the workforce. I have to admit working in IT makes for a rather target poor field, so the thought makes me laugh. But as Elizabeth Corcoran so ably rebutted in Forbes:
Women have faced this kind of competition squarely for years. Say you marry your college heartthrob. Ten years later, he's working with some good-looking gals--nymphets just out of college, or the more sophisticated types who spent two years building houses in Africa before they went to Stanford Business School. What do you do? A: Stay home, whine and eat chocolate B: Take up rock climbing, read interesting books and continue to develop that interesting personality he fell in love with in the first place.
Whatever. The issues that Michael Noer describes are the result of…ego. And I’m finding out that ego has no place in a marriage. We’re only coming up on our 2nd wedding anniversary, but even I know that one.
Sigh, but I do have to plead guilty to a messy household. Thank heavens Chris wasn’t looking for a domestic goddess. I’m not even close.
Angie passed along this great little article, which made me laugh. And hence must therefore be shared with my throng of admiring fan. Can one person throng?
There's a website called Pandora. The basic premise is that you input a song or an artist, and it's compared to a database based on it's/their characteristics. Once that happens, it first plays a represantative song from that artist, and then plays other music that shares the same qualities. Very cool. So today I plugged in the Bloodhound Gang. Awesome, the first song it generated was "Amerca, F**K Yeah!" from Trey Parker and Matt Stone. It cracks me up, I know I shouldn't love Three Point One Four by the Bloodhound Gang. But man, it's clever and silly. And I'm a sucker for both.
Wait... somehow...Wil Smith and the Men In Black has similar qualities to the Bloodhound Gang? Fascinating....
I worked from the library on Monday, which actually I enjoy a lot. Just the right blend of the ability to focus with some minor distractions should I so desire. Yesterday we went for a second ride on the bike trail, which means even more people watching. So the deep thoughts from the last few days:
When you're in the library, if you can't handle the huge "SET YOUR CELL PHONES TO VIBRATE" sign on the front doors, maybe you could just set them softer than you had your boom box in high school. The funny thing is the same people who treat the whole library to 30 seconds of "Play that Funky Music, Whiteboy" at deafening levels, will then open the cell phone and not actually speak until they've taken the additional minute to walk out of the library. That must confuse the heck out of the person who's calling.
As a former windmilling rollerblader, this one is for the walkers. If you're on a multi use trail, and insist on walking 3 abreast, leaving a one person space for all of the other users to get around you in both directions, understand that the possibility of a windmill to the chops really does exist.
Why are the noisiest people in the library the librarians? Well after the cell phone users...
Why is it when you cycle on the road, other cyclists acknowledge you, stop to check on you when you have a flat, etc, but when you're on a trail or in a park, you could die on the side of the trail and people will zip right past?
And this, folks, is my new baby - a Trek 1500 road bike. (please ignore out of shape person seated on the new baby) It arrived yesterday while I was in the midst of trying to get my work computer to talk to a network. Any network. @&*#(@%. So Chris asked "Don't you like it?" and I'm stopping in mid curse to go "Uh, yes dear, it's lovely". Then went back to trying to figure out why my cache isn't clearing. Not the warmest welcome a new bike has ever gotten. And Chris did have a bad moment when he got a look at the back tire and it was totally abused. Fortunately if anyone is going to have a spare bike part, it's my hubby. Or Gunnar. So I'm cruising along these days on a super blinged out bladed spoke rear wheel until Trek warranties the old one. But we got it all together and I took it first for a spin around the neighborhood. Then we went down to the bike trail, rode to Qdoba and REI and called it a night. So it was very cool. But a lot of adjustments with this one. My other bike was a 58, this one is a 56. New (to me) pedals. Shorter stem. I pretty much wiped out in my driveway. Didn't lay it down, so there are no scratches, but I do have to adjust, after 8 years of the other bike.
On the flip side, I rode past Chris going "Look, Sweetie!" Click. Shift. Ahhhh, ya gotta love new shifters.
I was going to ride it from the car dealership to work this AM, but I wussed out. But hopefully I can get a quick spin in tonight.
Hit the mall today for the first time in ages. Both of us were in need of shorts, and, well, if you're going to get shorts on the cheap, this is the time to do it. Mission accomplished - 5 pairs for him, 3 for me.
My husband is a bike racer. In addition is on his feet all day at work. When not nursing a broken collarbone, he's a bike mechanic which requires some upper body strength as well. But after 2 hours of shopping, he came home to take a nap.
You're welcome, sweetie. You had to know this was coming.
Of course the nap probably had nothing to do with the fact that we slept with 2 60-70 lb dogs in a queen sized bed last night. Or that we had one of those great lazy Sundays where we just watched some of U2: Live from Chicago, flipped around cable, walked the Bumpus Hounds, and just chilled. Awesome. I'm getting lazy in my old age, but loving every minute of it.
Met up with Erin & Baker last night at the park. Chris got Fred out of the car, and they went across the street and down the trail a little ways. When Erin got Baker out of the car, and he saw Fred disappearing down the trail, he started to bark. The next thing I saw was Fred running back full speed to greet his buddy with lots of joy in the middle of the road. Thankfully - no cars!
We had a great walk in the park with two very happy, crazy dogs, and then dropped them off at our house and went out for tasty Vietnamese. Yeah, twice in one week. They love us now. It was great to catch up with Erin and find out how she was doing. It's been a year, so obviously her life changed radically in that time.
When we got home, the surprise was that Fredly was sitting outside of the house. Apparently all of that creek water that he drank must have gone right through him. Since he won't potty in the house, he did the only thing he could do - jump off the 6 foot high porch, potty outside, and wait for us to come home.
Chris did a little begging after that, and Erin agreed to leave Baker for a sleep over. Fred hasn't stopped doggy smiling since. They're such goofballs. We've had such a good time. Erin - come visit as often as possible!
Sweet, a new restaurant opened 2 doors down from Chris's shop. It's a Vietnamese/Japanese place. We checked it out last night and it is really freaking good. I got the Pho Tai, Chris got the number 10 (?!) and we got two types of spring rolls and sushi. All very, very good. And the wait staff was awesome, trying to make sure we knew what the heck we were doing with these different food types. My Vietnamese food experience has been limited, but now I have definite incentive to expand my horizons!
Erin is back for a visit, with Baker in tow. This means fun for the whole family – we get to hang with Erin, Baker & Fred get a trip to the park. For two years, these two dogs were best buddies, so effectively half of their lives. And really, who can resist a dog that's as happy as Baker is? Not any of us, that's for sure!
Fred is very much a city dog – not at all concerned by the things that drive Baker out of his mind – tile and fluorescent lighting in Rolliers, loud trucks, and awnings over the sidewalk.
On the flip side, Baker is very much a country dog that runs fearlessly through the woods, leaping obstacles that leave Fred frozen in place.
So that’s probably while they’re best friends. When they’re together, they stalk other dogs, and push each other to play more and more at things that one or the other might otherwise be afraid to do.
In other words…Fred misses Baker, and we miss Erin. But we’re all going to be psyched this weekend.
Having gotten 100 comments on his blog, Dave at Garfield Ridge acceded to the standing, applauding audience and is back blogging again. So I'm reinstating the link to his blog because when he's on, he's awesome. (He's been a little off, of late, but I have high hopes for him!) Here's hoping that he has a long and entertaining run.
Update:Ace of Spades has a great take on the whole thing.
Holy mackerel, this dude is running 50 marathons in 50 states in 50 days to raise money for a church trying to help those who are still in need as a result of Katrina. Un-frickin-believable, especially to someone like me who has a hard time staying focused to run a mile. Click the link and donate, someone this dedicated deserves it.
The fan on the car died last night. Or rather, it refused to die, dammit. I turned it off when I got home from running errands, went to church, came home, did a bit o' cooking, and when I stepped out to throw out some trash, I heard it running. DOH! So my sweetie went out and pulled the fuse on that bad boy, and everyone settled down for a long winter's nap. This means crawling on my hands and knees to my thankfully wonderful carpool buddy to drive until next Tuesday when I take the car in for its repair.
Man, I hate dealing with automotive stuff. Because anyone who touches the engine of my car always has a frickin' up sell and shame on me for not knowing which are important and which aren't. I get knots in my stomach just taking the car to Jiffy Lube. "We can change your air filter." "Thanks, No" "Windshield Wipers" "Nope, thanks" "You know your thing-a-ma-jigger is about to fall off" "Really, I'm fine" "How about..." "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, I JUST WANT YOU TO FINISH THE OIL CHANGE WHILE I READ MY BOOK, OK?!"
Sigh. So next Tuesday, I'll deal with it. But you can't make me like it.
Class Factotum has a great post on the "joy" of reading really bad books. I do the same type of yelling at tv shows and movies, and other drivers (although they're real people, so I guess that's not quite the same), too.
Time compiled the 50 coolest websites, in their estimation. I actually have to do some work, so won't get to look at these until later. But if you want to stay on top of the whole Web 2.0, what the hip people are doing, this is the place to start.
So I posted my adieu to the land phone line (I need no reminder of how lame I am) when I started flipping through my daily blog reads, and found out Dave at Garfield Ridge is calling it quits. Dang it. I read him when he was just a little bitty old blogspot blogger.
Bon Voyage, Dave! And good luck!
And since I work in a place where an announcement of someone leaving means that their cubicle, chair, computer, etc are immediately up for grabs, I'm moving Asymmetrical Information into the links instead. This one is written by a libertarian economist. Yea, neither descriptor sounds very appealing, but when they post, it's still oddly fascinating. Appealing to that inner geek referenced below in Galactica posts.
And now we bid a fond adieu to... our home phone line. We've been talking about doing this for months, but yesterday I finally called MCI to break the bad news to them. Thanks to the wonders of WIFI and cell phones, a ground line is not important to our lifestyle. And the next step is going to be to sell off that MCI stock. But all in all, the main point is just that it's really not worth $40/month to us to get three real calls and ten research firms calling us every month. That's $480/year to spend on frivolity. And I like frivolity.
Wow, so not only am I a geek, but I'm an out of touch geek. I finally got to watch the Battlestar Galactica's miniseries from 2003, today. Well disk 1 of it. Wow... Really amazing. Although I'm pretty sure that by admitting that I like this show, I'm pretty much committed to learning to play Dungeons and Dragons and learning to program Unix. But if you have the remotest interest in this sort of thing, and are as behind as I am, it's worth a watch
I feel your pain. Last year a friend and I decided that we were going to lose 10lbs prior to my first anniversary. So right about now until December.
That's when I learned that getting older sucks. It used to be all I had to do was start working out - riding my bike, and playing flag football, and after about 6 weeks, I was a lean mean fighitng machine. Now I have to give up all of the good foods in life too, to lose weight.
My husband saved me after 5lbs, and told me that's the weight he wanted me at. And that's why we will never divorce.
Oh and it took me like 8 months to get that 5lbs off because I have no discipline.
They've released the names, and birthdates of the English terror suspects. They range in age from 22 to 29, which is making me feel just a mite old.
"You whippersnappers don't know nothing about waging war. In my day, when we wanted to make a statement...well my generation went to the mall and spent a lot of money. We were sort of post-hippy and pre-angst. Anyway, if we had even thought about blowing up airplanes, our mothers would have put us in timeout or tanned our hides or something.
You kids get off my plane!"
I also have to admit that I found this statement from CAIR (Council on American-Islamic Relations) to be a bit weird. They object to President Bush's saying that we're at war against Islamic Fascists. Er...why? Wouldn't you wouldn't to differentiate between garden variety peaceful Muslim and the terror wing of Islam? When you look at the list of names released, theres not a Smith or Jones in the batch, and pretending that this is just an eclectic mix of British citizens doesn't make that go away. So what's wrong with differentiating that not all Muslims fall into that grouping?
This is going to make travel infinitely more convenient. Read that sign closely - no toiletries in your carry on. Which sucks because a lot of business travelers I know don't check bags. Mmm, those planes with a lot of business people on them are going to smell good. Was this particular security measure sponsored by Gillette and The Body Shop? I mean can you imagine the people who travel a lot for business who will end up buying toiletries in every city they fly to?
Every time I read a quote from Dick Pound of WADA, I want to smack the man in the face. It's just a visceral reaction. It's probably the result of the fact that he's busting guys I was hoping were clean for drugs. But when he says stuff like this:
"Who knows," he wrote. "USADA (the United States Anti-Doping Agency) may subscribe to a suggestion that both athletes, in separate sports, were ambushed by a roving squad of Nazi frogmen and injected against their will with the prohibited substances."
I can't help but think "You arrogant jerk." I guess it hasn't occurred to him that WADA's guilty until proven innocent policy may not sit well with a whole country that operates under innocent until proven guilty in most other facets of our life.
Between the UCI and WADA, they need to find better ambassadors for what they do. Because when things are leaked about athletes, and drugs are so rampant, it strikes me that neither group is doing a particularly good job, alone or in combination with each other. Then you get screw ups like the whole Liberty Seguros team being banned from the Tour before they find out none of them were actually going to be prosecuted. It makes the whole cycling scene look absolutely inept.
Gentlemen, the off-season approaches. Take that time to Fermez vos bouches, develop a plan, and discover some humility.
...is an Olympus 810 8MP digital camera. Now I just need a memory card. Right now it has enough internal storage for 15 pictures, but I'm seeing a big honking memory card coming our way soon. In the meantime, I was playing with some of the special effects, and came up with the weird pix of our full moon.
I used to live in Asheville NC, right around the time it was the retirement capital of the country. That's right, bring on the rich geezers with one foot in the grave and the other on the banana peel.
Asheville is located in Buncombe county - as in "a load of bunkum" or "a bunch of bunk". See, hard to believe I moved.
But really, this headline in their newspaper is just hysterical:
It's kind of funny how trendy it is these days to have bloggers on news shows. And you can tell when these guys (and occasionally gals) come on, that there really is a difference between those who are paid to be on tv, and those who aren't paid to sit behind a keyboard. Just a hint: the bloggers are the ones who need to get a tan that doesn't come from the gentle monitor glow.
In case I get called by CNN or Fox to pontificate on some profound topic of our day, I look like this:
or maybe more like this:
and my husband would be thrilled if I could morph into this:
So I'll be working out at lunch today. And then buying a bra that required a P.E. to sign off on it.
It could have been worse, the two headlines in question could have been right next to each other, but ... Should CNN have had "Paris Hilton: I'm going celibate" in such close proximity to "Thar she blows"?
Interesting little article today in CNN about how people are reporting that they only have two close friends in whom they could confide vs the three people were reporting in 1985. And they talk about loneliness at various stages of life.
I'm so very lucky in that I met a fantastic group of people while I lived in Houston in the late 1990s, and we've still managed to stay in touch (for the most part). My only regret is not that I don't have friends in whom I can confide, but that they're so far flung. When my husband and I got married, wedding invitations went to both coasts and Texas. So if I have to count the number of close friends in whom I can confide, including my husband, I'd probably be hovering around 7 person mark. I just wish we all lived in the same city.
Apparently Chris and I are the only people who didn't see "Talladega Nights" last night. But Garfield Ridge and La Vida Vica both offer their reviews. Sounds like maybe this would have been a good 1/2 hour tv show instead of 105 minute movie.
By the way...since Daily Mumps hasn't posted in a month, I'm going to pull them off the links until they show some activity. But since I'm working on the template anyway, I've added Garfield Ridge, a blog I've read since before Chris & I got married. Funny in that guy sort of way, and sometimes with some thoughtful posts from the POV of someone who works in the defense department. Oh yeah, and he likes the Nationals.
It's official, Floyd Landis's B-Sample came back positive. The whole thing is weird - testosterone is a strange doping choice for a cyclist. Somebody F-ed up. And now Floyd's headed down the same road that Tyler went down. Whether that's fair or not, I can't say. But it's a shame regardless.
I have a mental image of Floyd, Jan, and Ivan sitting around playing Pinochle for the next two years.
Side note to CNN: If you aren't going to have Floyd's win on the front page of your website, spare us all and don't have his doping issues there, ok?
Last night Chris brought home the DVDs for this year’s Paris-Roubaix and Ghent-Wevelgem. We watched the two sectors of pave on DVD that we saw in person, and played everyone’s favorite game – did we make the video?
And the answer is…yes. In one aerial shot you can see Chris with his enormous white Chrome Bag making the dash from Sector 18 to Sector 16. In another aerial shot you can see me trying to get a picture of the lead group entering Sector 16. (Have I mentioned lately how much I HATE our digital camera?) And further on Sector 16 you can see Chris on the side of the road while a guy with a huge Belgian separatist flag runs next to Tom Boonen’s lead group. In not one of the shots would anyone be able to recognize us without knowing what we were wearing and where we were standing. But we know. In addition, since Chris rode from sector 17 (The Arenberg Forest) to the end, there's also the coolness of his being able to say "I rode that! And it suuuuucked!"
Tonight we’ll watch the Cysoing/Café L’Arbre sections of cobbles, and probably the Velodrome. We’ll see if we make an appearance again.
Ok, so this post is all about how I don't get it. My very, very, very limited understanding from the news I can't seem to avoid watching about the current Israeli-Lebanese thing is: 1. Hezbollah (Hisbollah) - kidnapped two Israeli soldiers and fired rockets into Israel from Lebanon 2. The Lebanese government, and presumably at least a portion of the Lebanese population don't want Hezbollah (Hisbollah) - although the news reports make it sound like MOST of the Lebanese population don't like H(H). 3. Lebanese society (and Middle-Eastern society in general) promotes a highlevel of machoness. 4. Lebanese civilians are being killed as a result of the retaliation from Israel. Israeli civilians are dying as a result of the retaliation from H(H). 5. The Israeli men are fighting back (see 4). The Lebanese who are not Hezbollah (Hisbollah) fans aren't doing anything about H(H) other than asking for help.
These things don't go together for me. Where are the Lebanese men? Their families are dying because of the "intruder" H(H). What are the macho Lebanese men doing? I'm pretty sure that my understanding of the situation is faulty because I'd have to believe that if the Lebanese people really didn't want to support H(H), they'd be cutting deals with Israel. "You get the southern quarter of Lebanon and pound it to bits while we watch the roads from Syria to make sure no rockets come through. Any H(H) found north of the Southern Quarter will be jailed (or summarily executed)." Instead all I've heard is whining about civilians being killed in Lebanon. C'mon gentlemen, time to cowboy up.
If your kid invited gang-bangers to stay in your living room, would you be complaining to the press because the police showed up? No way. You'd be cutting the freon for the AC to make it more uncomfortable in your house, and lacing their coke with sleeping pills and rat poison, while cutting a deal with the swat team not to come in shooting. (Maybe that's just me)
So my question is, which one of those 5 points is wrong?
I saw the report from Wilderness 101 on cyclingnews. It's a 101 (duh) mile mountain bike race that a few friends participated in. (GO BETSY! SWEET!) Anyway, what really caught my eye was the very last category - the tandem mountain bikers. Yes folks, that's 11-14 hours of togetherness in which the conversations probably went "Stop trying to steer" "Are you pedalling back there?" "&*(##& STOPPING!!!!!"
Then again maybe I'm just confusing this with our tandem ride through Brugge. Of course the Wilderness 101 was probably not this smooth or this flat. (And honestly, we had a great time once I stopped trying to drive from the stoker's seat)
I vote that next year the race promoters get some divorce lawyers to sponsor the new Married Tandem class. "Free consultation after the race!"
Dude, this guy isn't paying attention. His conclusion is because Landis was caught cheating, the answer is Americans cheat.
50+ cyclists are implicated in Operacion Puerto. ONE was an American. It's not "Americans Cheat", it's "Athletes cheat". Anyone want to talk "Oil for Food"? It's "People Cheat". I like people, but it doesn't mean that human nature is always a spotless, beautiful thing. This dude needs to get over the thought that Americans invented cheating or have a monopoly on it. We're not impressive enough to introduce a new vice to the world - especially one that already universally exists.
Thursday: Back pains. Lots of ibuprofen and I'm able to stand up. Friday: Apparently driving in a car is good for a back. I'm feeling better Saturday: Back better, knee hurts. Doesn't make sense, we're sleeping on a sleeper sofa Sunday: Knee hurts, back stiffening Monday: Knee hurts, back really tight. Beg massage off of my gimpy husband.
This bites. I'm one step away from my only discussions being about cholesterol levels or reading the newspaper obits in search of friends, aren't I?
It reminds me of a string of wet sponges; it reminds me of tattered washing on the line; it reminds me of stale bean soup, of college yells, of dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself out of the dark abysm…of pish, and crawls insanely up to the topmost pinnacle of posh. It is rumble and bumble. It is flap and doodle. It is balder and dash.
-H.L. Mencken
By Ken Levine One of the writers from the TV series M*A*S*H writes about Hollywood, showbiz, etc
Class Factotum She's Baaaacccckkkkk. And as funny as ever!
Cobb I'm fascinated on this man's ponderings on being American. And being black. And being an African-American.
Confessions of a Pioneer Woman She makes me laugh. Any woman who has named her own disease - Low Blood Sugar Cranky Butt Disorder - is ok by me.
Cute Overload OK! I admit it, I love a website which uses terms like "prosh" and "paws-up-itude". I'm pretty sure I will have my engineering degree taken away now.
Fatmarc Mountain Bike, Cyclo-cross...is there anything this man doesn't do?
