Monthly Archives: November 2010

New Helmet

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While I was in Richmond, my dad was nice enough to get me a new helmet at the local bike store. It fits a lot better than my old one (now broken), or maybe I just didn’t know how to adjust the straps properly. This is partially because I hate to have things touch my neck and under my chin. (Scarves at okay.)

Dorktastic, but not as dorky as being a quadriplegic or dead.

Bodger also got something new over the break: a hand-me-down bed. Actually, he commandeered this bed from the boyfriend’s family dog Phoebe. He likes to sleep in a cuddled position, so the higher sides are perfect.

…Notice that he also takes two of his toys into bed with him:

Also, I forgot to mention that my mom got a new dog. He’s an old English Sheepdog named Neville.

Do you wear a bike helmet?

Richmond wrap-up.

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I’m back in Champaign, a day later than expected.

That’s because on Saturday, this happened:

지난 주말에 아팠어요!

The boyfriend and I were both hit pretty hard by a nasty stomach flu, about seven hours apart. This delayed our return travel plans significantly. I learned one thing: I am excellent at feeling sorry for myself. While I was laying on the floor of the bathroom, wrapped in a blanket, here’s what I thought:

  • “This is a sign from God. I shouldn’t go back to grad school.”
  • “How can ANYONE be bulimic?? This is terrible!”
  • “There’s nothing left in me to puke. I’m going to ruin my esophagus with all this stomach acid.”
  • “I want my mommmmmyyyyy.”

However, we’re both on the recovery, albeit with less-than-normal appetites.

Running? What is that?

I’ve got a bunch of junk to do for tomorrow, and I’m already behind because of this crappy illness. Hence, the rest of this post will be photos and captions.

Checking out the free bread samples at Montana Gold Bakery:

Being awkward American Apparel models (You know what I mean. Those models look like they’re in child pornography.):

Trying on whimsical glasses at World of Mirth:

Floppy hats make everyone stylish:

Brett, the boyfriend, and I form a band with with wine bottles and dried gourd maracas:

I bought this hat to keep my ears warm when I wait for the bus:

When’s the last time that you were really sick?

Thanksgiving.

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Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I hope everyone exercised more restraint than I did because I feel like my stomach is going to explode. Also, I am writing this while fighting the soporific effects of an allergy pill…

The boyfriend and I woke up late and flew out the door in time for the local 10K Turkey Trot. My goal was to beat my official 10K PR of 1:01:5X. The Turkey Trot course is very hilly, so I wasn’t sure if this would be possible.

Nevertheless, after a harrowing dash from the portapotty to the starting line, I crossed the starting mat and took off!

…Actually, that’s a lie. I didn’t take off because there was an impenetrable wall of slower runners blocking me in. My splits reflect the blocked-in-ness that occurred in Mile 1 and Mile 3:

  • 10:40
  • 9:57
  • 10:46
  • 9:37
  • 9:22
  • 9:02
  • 0.16 – 1:02
  • Official Chip time – 1:00:26 (PR!)

Since I primarily run in the flat expanses of Champaign, I was nervous about how my legs would take to the hills. I was pleasantly surprised that I managed to crest all of them without wanting to die.

The last mile throws a doozy of a hill at you, and I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t survive it. However, as I begin the incline, I noticed Tina on her bike just ahead. I yelled at her, and she yelled back that I should catch up with her. It was like having my own personal bike pacer! I managed to catch up and ask for a ride on her handlebars. (No luck on that one.) This got me up and over the hill. After we parted ways, all I had was a long downhill to the finish. Wheee!

In short, I am thankful for Tina for helping me run down a longstanding 10K PR. (My PR actually comes from the 10K split of the half marathon a few weeks ago, but I won’t count that…)=

The boyfriend ran a speedy 40:23, which is also a 10K PR.

Both of us have family in the Richmond, so the afternoon and evening were devoted to the consumption of TWO Thanksgiving meals.

The first:

The boyfriend’s aunt is Vietnamese and insisted on taking home the good parts of the turkey carcass. Watching her attack it was pretty terrifying and simultaneously awesome:

Seriously, don’t mess with her, or she’ll break your breastbone right off.

Later, we headed to my aunt and uncle’s home for Meal #2:

(We didn’t eat foil. There was food in these dishes.)

The rest of the evening was devoted to eating, catching up, and taking “serious photos”.

This one didn’t go so well:

Oh, and this is how Cousin Rachel and I feel about grad school:

What is one of your family’s Thanksgiving traditions?

Richmond

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We made it to Richmond on Sunday night, and it is great to be home. (Minus the pile of grading that I have to do while I’m here.)

On the way back to Richmond, we saw yet another sign that Christmas would be arriving by truck this year:

Apparently, Balthazar, Caspar, and Melchior are following the star in a truck this year…

Bodger, of course, joined us on this homeward-bound journey. Don’t let his sad face deceive you; he is thrilled to see everyone.

Last night, Roommate Tina taught a cycling class at the gym and invited the me and the boyfriend to attend for free.

This is Roommate Tina’s butt. She was setting up the class:

She’s a really intense teacher. If you are in Richmond and want a good cycling workout, take [Roommate] Tina’s class!

Asian girrrrrrrrls!

Now, off for a run!

How often do you see your college roommate(s)?

Rant: Who likes group work??

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Note: Somewhere in here, I probably sound like class-ist or, at the very least, a giant snob.

My new academic program is big on groupwork. This semester, I have had a ridiculous number of collaborative projects, exams, and assignments.

I.hate.group.work.

Most of my group members have put in effort and contributions, so I don’t want to rag on anyone specifically here.

…But seriously! Am I in seventh grade? Let me write my own damn exam. Even if all of the group answers were equal in quality (which they often are not), I don’t want to match my writing style to someone else’s for the sake of coherence. It is simply not a valuable use of my time to go through someone else’s writing and change all the instances of “their” used as a third person, singular, gender-neutral pronoun.

The boyfriend also hates group work. Seriously, who likes having to work with other people for an evaluation or grade?!? I don’t think my group members liked group work either.

You know who likes it? Stupid slackers who want to piggyback off conscientious, intelligent people’s attention to detail.

What does this mean? I should probably go live in a cave.

Like this:

Do you like or dislike group work? Are you one of “those people” who does more work than everyone else? If so, you can come live in my anti-group work cave…provided you don’t want to collaborate to find food or build a fire.

A horrible photo

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If it seems like I haven’t been blogging lately, it’s because I am either busy, stressed, or feeling uncreative. I’ll tell you a secret: I’m fucking sick of being in school.

I looked through the 6,819 photos in my iPhoto library tonight and came up with this gem from my second year of college.

The boyfriend likes this one because it looks like he is kicking me out of the frame. I think we were dancing to something…

In sad news, my stepmom’s dog Tibby isn’t doing so well right now. Please send healing thoughts her way.

Race photos

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They finally got around to posting proofs of photos from the Half.

There were, like, 23430280432 of the boyfriend and three of me. This includes one photo in which my hand obscured my bib number.

Man, I really swing my arms too high when I’m tired:

I look like I’m running here. It also looks like I am gulping down air.

Yes, I searched through hundreds of “Lost and Found” photos before finding this one:

Oh, and today I made M&M cookies. I haven’t tried them yet, but they look really great.

Do you get really excited about race photos? I’m incredibly vain so I compulsively check the photography website until the photos are ready for viewing. Then I’m usually disappointed because my pictures aren’t very good.

Wedding weekend

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Over the weekend, the boyfriend and I headed to Chicago to attend our first wedding as a couple. My college friends Jordan and Maria, who often appear on this blog during our Chicago adventures, had a really fantastic wedding, and I was honored that they asked me to be a reader during the ceremony.

The wedding festivities kicked off on Friday with the rehearsal. For the venue, Jordan and Maria picked a cool converted warehouse-turned-antique store. There were all kinds of strange knick-knacks and furniture pieces behind the bridal party:

Later, we attended the rehearsal dinner where we drank delicious cilantro-mint “shots”:

The next morning, I started off with a 6.55-mile run on the Lakefront. It was windy and rainy. Awesome.

  • 10:18
  • 9:44
  • 9:41
  • 9:49
  • 9:28
  • 9:00
  • 5:12

After lunch, I tested out road bikes in downtown Chicago. (Terrifying.) Unfortunately, I realized that I had forgotten to bring pants to Chicago. Road bike-testing was done in this outfit:

By mid-afternoon, it was time to head to the venue for pre-ceremony preparation and photos.

The bridesmaids dresses were both pretty and functional. For example, Genna could store the bouquet (made of kale) in her pocket to free her hands:

Later, the boyfriend arrived, and we took the requisite “dressed-up” couples photo next to a creepy statue. (Yes, in the antique store.)

In case you were wondering, this was the outfit that I chose: black strapless dress and red heels.

I got through my reading without issue. Then I cried during the vow-reading. That’s okay because Jordan cried too.

You could tell that Maria and Jordan put a ton of effort into personalizing every detail of the wedding. The seating arrangements were inspired by Chicago streets, and we each received a handwritten note, thanking us for coming to their wedding. The boyfriend and I sat with UVA alumnae, including former suitemate Caroline. Note: Damen is the table name–not Caroline’s name.

This was key: the dinner was delicious. On my plate, you will find raspberry-walnut salad, pasta (from the make-your-own pasta bar), some kind of delicious vegetable croquette, a slider, and foccacia.

Kate, the other reader, and I toasted to Jordan and Maria with our mashed potato martinis:

Instead of cake, Jordan and Maria served a variety of Molly’s Cupcakes. I’m usually skeptical of cupcakes, but this was a really fantastic choice of dessert. First, Molly’s cupcakes are delicious and not frou-frou trendy crap. Second, I didn’t have to share with anyone. This was the tiramisu kind:

The dinner and cupcakes were so delicious that I didn’t have room for the late-night snacks: malts and hot dogs. I am sad.

The newly married couple:

…Oh, and I instigated helped them weather their first married crisis. I inadvertently set up a situation where Jordan spilled hot coffee on Maria’s wedding dress.

My God. I shouldn’t be allowed in public.

There was even a photobooth where you could take pictures and put them with a personalized note in a book for the happy couple. The boyfriend and I have tons of practice in photobooths, and we were quite proud of our pictures:

The rest of the evening was fun, and I proud to report that I stayed at the venue until the end of the reception. Additionally, the boyfriend and I even danced, which probably hasn’t happened since Senior Prom.

During the bus ride back to the hotel, someone threw a rock (shot) at the window of the shuttle. This made a catastrophically loud noise and shattered the window. Thankfully no one was hurt, but it did make for a very eventful end to the evening.

This was the broken window.

I’ll admit that I was a bit skeptical about this wedding because I couldn’t imagine having a good time at an event that involved emotions, drinking, and dancing. However, Jordan and Maria obviously put a lot of thought into planning their wedding, and it was really obvious that they were thrilled to be marrying each other. Additionally, the speeches were the perfect mix of eloquent, thoughtful, funny, and heartfelt, which made the event even more meaningful.

This weekend helped dispel some of my cynicism about weddings as outdated, overrated, overpriced expressions of emotional validation. In short, I had a really great time, and I am very thankful that Jordan and Maria wanted to include me on their very special day. Thanks, you two, if you ever get around to reading this!

Do you cry at weddings? …I forgot to mention that I cried at pretty much every dad-related part of the wedding. I lost it during Maria’s father’s speech, which was probably the least sentimental of the four. Later, I burst into tears when they did their father-daughter dance. The boyfriend joked that at my wedding, I’ll have to hide my own dad behind a screen so I can’t look at him and bawl my eyes out.