My Mom Kicks Ass

I spent this weekend at my parent's house, and bright and early this morning(4 am!) we all got up to go cheer my mom on at one of her triathlons. She swam. She biked. She ran. She kicked some serious ass.



Dear Abby Explains It All

I got an email from my gorgeous friend Kate yesterday:
David read this in the newspaper this morning and wanted me to send it to you:
DEAR ABBY: I am 38 years young and still single. I enjoy my friends, my freedom and rock concerts. My issue is that at the last two concerts I went to, I heard men -- or boys -- say, "Watch out. Here come the cougars!" I think this is insulting. Or is it?

Can you define a "cougar"? I don't know whether I should be insulted or take it as a compliment. -- STILL ROCKIN' IN IRVINE

DEAR STILL ROCKIN': A "cougar" is a woman who likes to date -- and aggressively pursue -- much younger men. Whether it's an insult, an accurate description or a compliment depends upon how you wish to be perceived. But from my perspective, the comments you heard were stereotypical and "catty," to say the least.

David is Kate's little brother who likes to remind us- at every opportunity- that he thinks we're old farts. Nonetheless, thanks Dear Abby, for clearing this up once and for all. And for the record, while Josh may be a younger man, he is certainly not a much younger man.

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Essays and Eggplants

Snuff (Chuck Palahniuk, Doubleday) was slightly underwhelming. I'll read it again to be sure, but I wasn't in love with it. If you're a fan, obviously you're going to go out, pick it up and read it, but if you've never read Palahniuk I'd suggest you start with Invisible Monsters or Survivor or Choke. I've started Alone In The Kitchen With An Eggplant, and so far I'm enjoying it immensely. It is everything I was expecting. I like collections of short stories, but I love collections of essays. I couldn't even begin to explain why, especially because I don't particularly care to read non-fiction. Perhaps I just like it in smaller doses. Last night I was talking to Josh, and I mentioned how much I used to love writing. Ten years of engineering school and nothing but technical writing has beat that particular talent out of me, but I certainly miss it. I enjoyed essay writing in particular. What I liked about it was mixing the pragmatic and factual with the creative and subjective. Planning and structuring and building a deliberate collection of words in the most effective manner, designed to convey a particular thought or feeling or opinion. I never could write fiction, even then; my brain is not inventive, but simply narrative. My English teacher in high school, the way his face fell when I told him I'd be attending engineering school instead of endeavoring in more creative pursuits, was maybe one of the best compliments I've ever gotten. Since hearing this, Josh has been really encouraging me to give writing a second chance. Frankly, he's pretty encouraging about everything, all the time, but this topic has really seemed to spark his interest. I'm thinking about it, but I certainly draw the line at sharing anything I write here on the blog (his suggestion), I don't think I could ever do that. I'm an engineer, not a writer after all.



Katie's Birthday Revisited

Friday night Kate, Jill, Mak and I met four other friends at the Rockies game to celebrate Kate's birthday. Unfortunately, Katie wasn't feeling well, so while she enjoyed the game and a cautious beer, we all got rip-roaring drunk. We actually had great seats and it was a beautiful night for a game. Not to mention we were playing the Mets who generally draw a pretty big crowd. I was sporting the biggest hair ever. I mean we're talking Texas-Big-Bar hair here. I do believe Mak is mocking me with that wink... Seriously, look at these great seats! For some reason Jill and I decided to throw down with several spirited rounds of knocker boxing. She started it. Kate, the birthday girl, drives us all home at the end of the night, and we, well, apparently we're just about as cliche as they come. OK, one last thing. Now everyone drinks a little and gets a little bit out out of control sometimes, but during the Friday night postmortem with Katie on Monday, she informed me that as far as shenanigans go, Jill and I had nothing on our girlfriend J. J and her boyfriend were riding the bus back to Boulder after we called it a night. Our girlfriend J started feeling sick on the bus and she threw up. BUT, she didn't want to get sick on the bus, so she just puffed out her cheeks and held it in her mouth as long as she could. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore, and it was leaking out the sides of her mouth so she...swallowed it. I know, it's about the grossest thing I've ever heard. It actually made me a little sick just now to write it out. She's a totally normal gal too, not a dirt bag or anything. Or so I thought...

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Photo Essay Tuesday (Arjewtino Edition)

Just before I left town for Aspen a couple of weeks ago I received this tiny parcel in the mail. I was pretty excited, I knew it wasn't a bill; nor was it a jury summons. It was, at long last, Arjewtino's Baseball card! I thought and thought about what to do with such a significant piece of Americana... I tried framing it, but that seemed creepy... Then I thought about putting it in my spokes, but I couldn't find any clothespins... So then I thought I'd take advice from the man himself
you should buy one of those hard plastic frames to keep it in mint condition. or put it on your wallet so you can look at it anytime you want. i do.
Friday night it made its first appearance at a Colorado Rockies baseball game... And then, well, sorry... Turns out this Photo Essay Tuesday coincides with Arjewtino's birthday, so without further ado... Happy Birthday to you Happy Birthday to you Hap--- What's wrong? Oh, don't like chocolate huh? No problem, I'll take care of it for you!


28 is not 21! (And Books!)

Friday night kind of ruined me for the rest of the weekend. Though I had big plans Saturday, I bailed in favor of curling up in a tight ball in front of my air conditioner and watching TV all day with Jill. We complained loudly and often about our merciless hangovers, and about how we seem to be less and less able to bounce back quickly. I finally peeled my ass off the couch around 5:30 to go get some miso soup to assuage the hangover beast. I've included this picture because every time I look at it I swear I can hear Josh say "Of course you took a picture of yourself eating soup. Why wouldn't you?" And I crack up a little. Fortunately I'll have one more chance to see The Shrenks on Monday before they head back to Texas. Sunday was also a bit of a lazy day. I cleaned the apartment and around lunch time found fridge and cupboards devoid of anything resembling food, so I popped out to the grocery store. On the way I had a hankering for a cup of joe and decided to stop in the local Boarders to pick one up. Stupid. I'm a bit impulsive, especially when it comes to books. I can't go into a bookstore and leave with less than a half a dozen new books. Today I can hold my head up high and proudly say that I left with only four books. Alone In The Kitchen With An Eggplant Snuff Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen The Wonder Spot So here's the thing. I've been waiting forever for Alone In The Kitchen With An Eggplant to come out in paperback. I adore reading about food. Sometimes when I get depressed I dig out my cookbooks and read them the same way I read novels. I know for a fact I am not the only person who does this. Julie and Julia falls under the same reasoning, coupled with the fact that I picked it up for $4.99. I was going to pass on The Wonder Spot. Even though I loved The Girl's Guide To Hunting And Fishing, I'd heard from Josh that Bank didn't really come up with a new story and subsequently The Wonder Spot was sort of a second rate rehash of her first publication. But... at $3.99 I couldn't resist picking it up. I've wasted a Sunday afternoon on worse books I'm sure. And finally, Snuff. As a bit of a Chuck Palahniuk devotee, I am pretty impressed with my restraint, I waited almost a month to pick this one up. I know some people who can't stand his writing, but I know more people who absolutely adore him. I have never read anything of his I didn't like, and I loved everything except Lullaby. Haunted was so sick I actually had to put it down and walk away several times (particularly during Guts).




Friday night was Katie's 28th birthday, Happy Birthday! We went to a ball game (The Rockies lost...), then some bars. Somewhere near the end of the evening Jill and I went for a little walk to "mingle" and do some dancing. The dancing was kind of a bust, I think we are just too old for the bars in the one particular area we were exploring. We got picked on by some local youths (what's a yout?) and they teased us and followed us on their bicycles! What the shit! Jill tried to get in a fight with one of them when they wouldn't stop taunting her about almost falling (though she hadn't). I love when Jill gets all aggro when she's been drinking. Then we met some very young boys who were out at a bachelor party. They were trying (unsuccessfully) to lure us back to their hotel room for an after party (another thing I'm thinking we're too old for), but they must have watched The Pick Up Artist, because they kept insulting us thinking it would weaken our resolve. We're not those kinds of girls, we actually have some self esteem thankyouverymuch. They said we were, and I quote, "totally hot cougars." Dude! We are too young to be considered Cougars. Look it up yo!

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Tuesday Night, Ladies Night

Tuesday night Jill, Ivory, Suzie, Sarah, Laura, Tanya and I all met at Steuben's for our sort of quarterly meet up and catch up. I'd had a very late lunch so I only had the butterscotch pudding for dinner, but man was it good. The conversation included, but was in no way limited to, Tanya's honeymoon, Suzie's wedding, Laura's daughter and (6 year!) anniversary, Ivory's new house and baby, Sarah's new home and subsequent renovation, Jill's job search, and my impending relocation. It's so amazing, spending a great night with great friends who are all in such different places in life. It certainly illustrates what a rich and colorful tapestry life can be.

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Despite our antics, we came out of the weekend with a few really pretty pictures. Mak and Shelly are just the cutest brother and sister. Just as we were waking up Saturday morning and contemplating coffee Mak showed up with a bunch of lift chairs. Why? Because he's Mak. Shelly got a lot of action in that shirt, and despite the terrible service we had a lovely time sipping mojitos in the sunshine. Seriously? I have some hot friends. Even though I'm clearly sporting the drunk face, I like this picture of Kate and me. Jill striking a pose in Shelly's sunnies. We all tried them on and had ourselves a photo shoot. Jill doesn't really love it, but I think this picture of Katie is great. Maybe I just like the quality of the light and shadows in her hair.

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I didn't write anything about the pictures I posted yesterday because... well frankly I don't remember anything about the pictures. See, we woke up in the morning each day bummed because we forgot to take photos. We turned on our cameras- just to check- and we surprised by the bounty of inappropriate and awesome shots waiting for us. The thing is, I'm a big blackout-er when I drink. After a couple of cocktails things get hazy, after several cocktails my memory of the nights shenanigans is wiped clean. I don't actually mind much, I can be a little ridiculous, but even when I'm half in the bag I generally make decent decisions (well maybe not in my early twenties, but I do now...), and keep myself mostly out of harms way. Couple this new found, hmm, "maturity" lets call it, with the fact that all the gals out that weekend are in relationships, the opportunity for silly was there, but the chance of shady was very low. Still... I don't remember that big bear... I have no idea why Kate pantomimes biting someones boobs every time she gets a little drunk... I have absolutely no idea who those 19 year old boys are, nor do I have any recollection of riding them like a rodeo cowboy... I love lamb...

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Photo Essay Tuesday (Out Of Control Edition)

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