Wheels and leopard print

Me and the SUPER DEATH BIKE 4000 (SDB4k) in a pseudo-action shot! I am in bike love. She has multiple gears. She has reliable brakes. She has accessories, like a bell and basket. She has a swanky old Humber frame. Mad props to E and J the V for building her for me.

L-bot and Little Red, who I still love even though she kills my knees with her single high gear and coaster brakes. But I've never seen a more stylin' bike shape than the mens' Hiawatha Gambler and when riding, style is important. L totally didn't even whine about keeping up on her. Neither did the T-man. I whine every time I ride her, and going into the wind I swear even more than usual.

Me and Big Red, who I also love but try not to drive too much because she gets all of four-tenths of a mile to the gallon. She makes me feel tough and tall. Check out the sweet farmer stripe and tool box. Also, I'm pretty sure I was kinda pissed, as the Aussies would put it, for this picture. Why else I would have clambered up onto a cold, damp truck hood in the middle of the night is beyond my reasoning.

Finally, me and roomie D in our Halloween costumes for the Screamin' Cyn Cyn and the Pons show. He went as Uggg and I went as Cave Slut. We made that up, and we also made the costumes. Craft-rific! I climbed at the rock gym in that get-up. It was an iffy call but I had on some short-shorts underneath. My only regret is that I didn't get a picture of the climbing in the cave with the cavewoman costume or of D throwing me over his shoulder at the club.

Waiting to see when you'll let me down*

Ah, I do love me a busy social calendar.

Last-last weekend's activities began Friday night: swimming with A, and then an excellent curry dinner prepared by M and had with a pretty nice bottle of wine. M has these two absolutely adorable cats - so not like the Lenny's - that made me remember that I do in fact like cats. M also made me try some Grand Marnier which was actually really good. I ate and drank entirely too much, and stayed up entirely too late, but sometimes that's just the thing to do.

Saturday began with getting up entirely too early to go with el señor B and parents to my first ever cyclocross race. It was el señor's first also, but whereas I was merely observing, he was actually racing. The morning quickly devolved into a clusterfuck, but that's el señor B's tale to tell, and anyway I had fun. Then I left so that I could meet up with J the V to go to my first ever soccer game. We biked from my house over to Warner Park and what I was told is a crappy fútbol field. As we approached many dozens of mens with enormous thighs, an uncharacteristic shyness set in. So I mostly just watched the game by my lonesome, except when J the V butted heads - literally - with another player, resulting in a big nasty bump on his forehead for which he sat out about a quarter of the game. I kind of get fútbol now, and I'm told that they won. We rode over to Angkor Market, where they sell the universe's best mung bean sprouts ever. Got some of those and ingredients for another coconut curry. Mmmmmm...curry.

After dinner, J the V had a tattoo appointment. Now. I neglected to mention that on the bike ride to fútbol, I offered to attend said appointment as moral support, as repayment for a similar favor. But being that I'm a needle-phobe, I was crossing my fingers and hoping for a reply of "Oh hey, no thanks". So I could only wince and wish to kick myself when instead something along the lines of "Yeah, that'd be awesome" hit my ears. Doh. I'm not sure who was more nervous but my money is on me. But then here's the cool part: it's not nearly as bad watching someone else get a tattoo as it is getting one yourself. It doesn't even look like a needle, and of course it doesn't hurt (the watcher). J the V took his tattoo way more in stride than I ever do. Other than an occasional furrowed brow (which earned him a pat of empathy on the shin), you'd have thought he was playing checkers (I, on the other hand, yell and swear throughout and generally end up with my head between my knees at least once). The tattoo, done by Brian at Cap City, is gorgeous and it's inspired me to actually get around to designing my next one and hopefully to making an appointment soon.

Sunday I had breakfast with parents - twice! First was biscuits and sawmill gravy at Cracker Barrel with el señor B's folks and then a bloody mary at the Glass Nickel with my roomie D's paterfamilias. Then tried out my new bikini at one of the grosser hotel hot-tubs I've had the dubious honor of sitting in. I like the bikini, though. Ummmm...oh yeah, then I went climbing at the gym and I think that more or less rounds out last-last weekend.

Onto last weekend, then. Friday night el señor B biked over with E and we ordered delivery Tex-mex and drank wine, sitting with roomie D, J and R. B, E, R and I went on a leisurely bike ride to the lake and sat and sipped whiskey and apple cider on a dock in the dark. Then we played on some crazy playground with spinny things and climby things and there was some near-puking, I'm pretty sure. It was a beautiful, if slightly chilly, night.

Saturday a whole big bunch of people went to the Eplegaarden and we picked a bajillion apples. It was sunny and warm and all-around beautiful. That evening the T-man made it to town, visiting from Houston, and he and I and my friend L-bot, a short-term transplant here, went out to eat. Next we made our way to the roller derby (hellz yeah) and then to a show at the Union. Not so keen on the first band, but Meneguar and Defiance, Ohio were pretty good. Drank perhaps a teensy bit too much beer with T-man and L-bot, but we had a great time catching up and taking pictures and such.

Sunday morning the three of us went out for breakfast and I got BACON PANCAKES OH MY GOD. T-man and I went bouldering at the Dodge, where I once again managed to scare myself shitless. Another pretty day though, and I did not leave the crag ashamed of my efforts. We went to dinner (again. You know how it is when company is in town) with el señor and E. Actually that weekend has kind of rolled on into this week because T-man is still in town and wants to, ya know, do stuff. I know this coming weekend will be pretty nuts with Halloween festivities and all, so I'm trying to keep at least Friday free and clear to just plain chill out, although I'm already planning to be sewing costumes with B and A.

I should become a hermit, at least for a little while.

I also promise to post pics from last weekend soon. Didn't quite manage to pull out the ol' digital camera last-last weekend.

* "Ride" - Jen Wood

Fuck you. Pick me.

I am currently working on a massive blog post that started off about last last weekend, but because I'm slow is going to end up including last weekend, and perhaps even this coming weekend. It will be epic, because I've been having great, packed weekends lately.

And yet, I am cranky today. I mean, I am in a foul fucking mood. Absolutely rotten. I am full of hate and a little bit of sadness, but mostly hate and animosity. I'm trying not to take it out on the people who surround me, particularly those who I really love, but I think I'm being largely unsuccessful at that. And I don't want anybody being all "Aw, Dr. 1%, it's not so bad" because I know that but I hate the world and I want to wallow in my surliness today. Perhaps I should just say "fuck it", go home and take a nap, maybe bake some muffins. I'm going to try my hand at apple muffins.

Addendum: Just 'cause I'm in a filthy mood doesn't mean that these won't make me laugh. I'm certainly feeling like snappy mackerel today. "Ha! Ha! SNAPPY!"

Post-addendum: The apple-y muffins turned out AWESOME! We ate some, and I gave the rest to the boys at the Rev because I love love love the SUPER DEATH BIKE 4000! I promise a post soon on the SDB4k and the rest of my wheels.

It's the beat of a heart that is bigger than you now*

At some point during this blog experience, I began copying el señor B's habit of using song lyrics for blog titles. I really should be crediting these, and so instead of going back and editing each post, I'll just list them here for you now, in reverse chronological order. From now on, though, I'll reference the song at the end of my post.

How do ya pick the lyric, Dr. 1%? - you just might be asking.

Well, usually it's just something that's been stuck in my head for a gajillion years and I'm hoping that typing it out will remove it from my inner soundtrack to be replaced with something else - I just might reply.

10/1/07: "Beercan" - Beck
9/19/07: "Floorboards" - Sin Ropas
9/18/07: "Witness (One Hope)" - Roots Manuva
9/12/07: "Samson" - Regina Spektor
9/7/07: "Business Time" - Flight of the Conchords
8/28/07: "Sh-Boom" - The Crew Cuts
8/14/07: "Pushing Boulders" - Josh Small
7/3/07: Stinky the Grump's song from epidsode 2-10 of Chapelle's Show

I really should write about my very full weekend, but I've got to actually do some work today so it's going to have to wait, I'm afraid.


*"Not That Kind of Girlfriend" - Smoking Popes

Back in the swing, or saddle, or whatever.

Took a while to get a new workout schedule going this semester, which I hope to be into fully by next week. My old schedule got all messed up by the graduation of the hott aerobics instructors who taught an excellent circuit class for the last year, so I had to find something new to fill the space. On el señor B's suggestion, that space filler is a vicious yoga/pilates class. So now, in addition to biking to work and back (roundtrip ~13 mi) three to five days a week, I'll be rolling like this:

M: climbing (ugh, need to buy a new membership to the gym though - perhaps tonight.)
T: yoga/pilates (a severe ass-kicking)
W: swimbing (my preferred spelling, although "not-drowning" is probably a more accurate description anyway)
H: yoga/pilates + climbing (that's a long day)
F: swimbing (the lanes are so empty Friday evenings!)

And of course while the weather is still decent, occasional outdoor climbing on the weekends. I'd like to give mountain biking a try also this fall. In case you're thinking that schedule looks reedikulus, I usually drop one day per week at random. This week Monday climbing got dropped, mostly due to my reluctance to pay to get in.

A couple photos of me, snapped by R (aka DS) on our recent camping/bouldering trip to Governor Dodge, on a cute little V0+ complete with a brilliant undercling near the top and beached-whale finish. I haven't done a lot of outdoor bouldering, and it totally messes with my head still. Nothing like being 15 feet up a problem, realizing that jumping or climbing down is no longer an option, feeling your fingers slowly releasing that shallow, slopey dish, and knowing that UP is the only, and very scary, way to get out of this mess. I had to reach to the depths of my ovaries to get through a few of those routes. On a couple others, after multiple failed attempts near the bottom, I merely declared "oh fuck this shit" and jumped off. Still, I was pleased with 'scending at least one V2 and working hard on a V2/V3 before freaking out and backing off. Camping with R & J (aka SG) was also some much-needed fun and relaxation.

This weekend I hope to attend and observe my first ever cyclocross race (with el señor B) and soccer game (with J the V). It's all about ogling dudes with enormous thighs in tight shorts. Y'all know what I'm talking about.

She who falls in love with everyone she sees gets her heart broken every day

I declare...


...A FIVE-WAY TIE! Ha, seriously, I can't pick a weiner - I mean, winner - from our lil' blog contest. Although Dr. A was the only one with pictures, and also the only person to blog about the Chicago Hot Dog Mini-tour '07. From my perspective, it was pretty cool to see how peoples' impressions (and factual accuracy as a function of intoxication) varied.

THANK YOU to the Doctors 3 and El señor B for a fantastic weekend and impressive blogging effort!

I got a drug and I got the bug and I've got something better than love

Ah, the first post of October. This one will probably take me a while to write, 'cause I gotta make it good. It's a contest, see, between me and a few other people, to do the best blog about this past weekend. I need to get some pictures from Dr. A. I know y'all got faith in me, but I'm up against some heavy contenders here. I do not expect victory, but I will put on a good show.

Right now it's raining and I'm sitting on the porch with the Lenny's. Tonight Lenny is going to puke because I fucked up and let him get into Baby Lenny's food. Whoops. I scrubbed the bathtub tonight, which made me happy. I also finished season 3 of Six Feet Under, to which I am currently addicted. And I changed the rat cage and swept the house (no minor undertaking with two long-haired cats and all wood or tile flooring). Thus I feel accomplished for the evening.

Anyway, enough of all that. Let's get down to business, kids.

El señor B and I packed Friday morning and brought all our stuff to school with the intent of leaving for Chicago directly from Engineering campus. However, as we made our way out of town, B revealed that he had not packed a swimsuit and thus it was imperative that we stop by his apartment to pick up the jammers (whoa, just look at those goggles!), just in case there were to be hot tub action in our near future. Other than my first-ever pit stop at the over-the-tollway mall, complete with overly-salty and not-warmed-cheese-sauce'd pretzel, the ride to Chi-town was largely uneventful.

Then I met the doctors. And el señor B and I discovered that we can not even roll with the doctors. They are some dirty fucking sandbaggers.

B's brother, Dr. I, doesn't look a lot like el señor in my opinion, but their speech patterns and neuroses give away the relation. The occasion for our meeting up was Dr. I's 30th birthday - but he looks all of 25, thaz right. Dr. G is a force of nature. Dr. A is the boss lady - a good thing, I was to discover later. After initial introductory stuff and a late dinner, I could tell that this was going to be a good weekend. We took a train to somewhere else in the windy city, a place that Dr. G had heard was fun. We walked around for a bit and then were drawn to a big green awning from a couple blocks away. As we approached its verdant spectacle, we discovered that a tequila bar lay beneath that awn.

"Oooooooooh. Yeeeeeeah, that could be a bad idea."

So we kept looking, but eventually were drawn back by the promise of chips and salsa and, well, tequila. Dr. G began the show with a round of Patrón shots. This should have set my alarm bells ringing, but I really like Patrón - it's sipping tequila. Of course, the shots were accompanied by the first of what were to be way too many margaritas. Now here's where it all starts to get a little fuzzy for me, frankly. I'll just have to go through the snippets that I can recall, and I in no way vouch for the accuracy of any of this.

Snippet #1: Dr. G calling my cell phone, I think so that I could have her number easily. I listened to the message a couple days later - nearly entirely incomprehensible, and I could hear me shouting and cackling in the background throughout.

Snippet #2: Taking cleavage shots of all at the table. I only really remember this because we looked at the pictures later that night back at the hotel. It's my goal for the rest of the year to do cleavage shots any time a camera is handy.

Other than that, the tequila bar and travel afterwards is lost to me entirely.

Snippets #3-10: Being in a dance club and spying the dj stage. If I recall correctly (doubtable), there wasn't anyone on the stage besides the dj, but I immediately dragged Dr. A up there and ordered dancing to occur. El señor B and Dr. I weren't far behind, and I don't know what happened to her in the meantime, but Dr. G joined us some time later. There was much flamboyant and very dirty dancing. I requested Deee-lite, which got played. I requested Ludacris, which did not. I grabbed Dr. I's ass for sure, and it's a good bet I grabbed a few more. I began dragging random strangers and couples up onto the stage to dance with us. Some complied, others were alternately horrified or amused. Soon it was a stage dance party! I take full credit. But then the powers-that-be made it into a ladies-only stage dance party, and we couldn't desert the menfolks, so somehow we discovered there was another dj in the basement. Tried requesting Ludacris again, got shot down again - who are these lousy djs? Had a conversation with Dr. I about our mutual appreciation for the burlier wedding tackle (thanks to J for that term).

Snippet #11: We decided to leave the club at some very late point, presumably because most of us were trashed. Dr. G was out the door and jetting off ahead of me and Dr. A, trumpeting her intention to walk back to the hotel - it looked slightly more like a gallop to me. But el señor B and Dr. I had yet to appear outside the club. As soon as I spied them stumbling out, I sprinted across the street through a yellow light so as not to lose track of the great navigator. I managed to slow down the aforementioned force of nature, and eventually the rest caught up and we did in fact make it safely back to the hotel on foot.

Snippet #12: El señor B plopping face down on a bed, legs dangling off. It was one of those plops that you just know is not going to end well. I did the only thing my very inebriated brain could come up with: I pulled off his sandals, apparently without loosening the straps. Now. Just so y'all know, I do not touch just anybody's feet. Feet are kind of gross. Especially climber/biker/general-athletic-person feet that besides have been traversing downtown Chicago in sandals. But this is el señor B we're talking about here, so I just vowed to burn my hands later. And I patted his back, 'cause I knew what was coming sooner or later. This earned me the following pledge, said mostly into a hideous hotel quilt: "K, I rully prishate chew." Awwwwww. And then! He was up! And off to inspect the hotel plumbing!

Snippet #13: Dr. A attempting to situate/keep calm all the boozers. This was a Herculean task that at some point involved her sleeping on the floor, too.

That's pretty much it as far as my swiss cheese is concerned. All the next day el señor and I suffered greatly for our night of cutting loose. Still, it had been worth it. But the doctors - it was like they'd spent the previous evening watching a movie before retiring early. And they'd gone out the night before, too! During many an uneasy moment on the sidewalks of Chicago that next day, el señor B and I reiterated that we just can not roll with the doctors. They are too much. Too much.

I wish I had some pictures to add. I tried drawing the dance club, perhaps I'll add it in later, or pics from Dr. A's camera should she pass them on. In the meantime, you'll just have to make do with this.