the week is killing me...almost literally

So last week was not too exciting. This week I had to fly to California on Monday and that's when things went back to the usual, weird, "does this only happen to me?", shit.

One thing I don't like about Southwest is that you can book a flight that is more than one leg, but it's posted in departures as going to the final city, not the city you are going to from DIA (e.g. a flight going denver to oakland to burbank will be listed in the departures as burbank, NOT oakland). They also tend to have flights going to the same destination at the same time. I know this about SW. I ALWAYS check the flight number as soon as I get to the gate.

But this time I was two hours early and failed to check the flight number. I was standing at a gate that had a noon departure to Oakland, which is what my ticket said. Unfortunately, it was not MY flight because my flight was going to Burbank after Oakland and the flight I was in line for was going to Burbank and then Oakland. I realized this as the plane was boarding, and had to run literally 1/2 mile, with a 25 pound backpack, to the other end of the terminal to get to my flight, which I was afraid I was going to miss (after arriving at the airport 2 hours early, which I never manage to do).

They are doing construction to extend the terminal so it was kind of a shit show mess, but I managed to arrive in time to board my flight. However, as I was standing on the jet way I started coughing and couldn't stop. Then my eyes started watering and I couldn't see. I managed somehow to stagger to the back of the plane, where a flight attendant saw me. He threw my back pack on the last remaining aisle seat and handed me some water (I couldn't talk because I could hardly breathe). He then suggested I wait in the bathroom until boarding finished. Even after 10 minutes I couldn't stop coughing. Another flight attendant said if I couldn't get my breathing / coughing under control they would remove me from the flight.

I finally managed to sort of stop coughing and sat in my seat. My seat mate, a woman, immediately protested and accused me (seriously, not making this up) of having ebola (coughing is not a major symptom of ebola). The flight attendants assured everyone around me it was an asthma attack and they finally stopped arguing about me sitting near them.

The flight was the worst kind of torture because I had to suppress my coughing and my lungs were killing me and it was so hard to breathe that I had to hold a wet paper towel over my mouth to get in a breath of air. But, as soon as I landed in Oakland, though, and got out into the open air I was fine.

Nothing like that has ever happened to me before, and I don't have asthma. I realized on Tuesday, when I flew back to denver, the likely cause...

They were doing a lot of dry wall sanding and painting in the new terminal. In addition it reeked of carpet glue. As soon as I deplaned into the new terminal tuesday night I started coughing again, and I wasn't the only one. I think that as I was running to the terminal I was inhaling a bunch of some shit (dry wall dust? paint fumes? glue fumes?) that I was allergic to. Again, once I got into the open air, I was fine.

Fucking construction.

I will end this on a positive note. Once my cough had sort of settled down I got the names and employee numbers of the flight attendants that helped me (and, more importantly, didn't throw me off the plane). I sent an email to southwest explaining everything that had happened. They said they would pass my thanks on to the flight attendants, and then upgraded me for the trip home and sent me drink tickets.

So, if someone helps you, it's always good to make a big deal of thanking them.

pedaling and surviving the plains

FH and I successfully completed the pedal the plains ride yesterday.

The trip started out great in Ft. Morgan, where we had a free hookup for the RV. We also found a great chinese restaurant and met an RV neighbor, Jim, who we ran into for the next 3 days in the oddest places (wal mart, the beer garden at Ft. Morgan, and finally at his mom's house in Brush).

Friday we got a late start because FH had forgotten his shorts and had to run into wal mart to get something to wear while riding. Then we were talking in the truck and missed the exit for Wiggins by 16 miles and had to double back to it. When we got to the registration FH's name was on the list but mine was not so I had to manually register.

We finally got on the road around 1130. There was a strong headwind as well as soaring temperatures (it was 102 degrees F). Although it was supposed to be the "easy" day it didn't feel easy at all. Luckily we arrived at Ft. Morgan and the RV in one piece. We went to the beer garden and had the first of many Especiale beers made by the O'dell brewing company for the pedal the plains ride.

Saturday we got started at 8 am due to some logistical issues (the signage for ptp wasn't great so it was hard to find, for example, where to drop off our luggage, which was being transported for us to Sterling). The head wind again was unrelenting. About 20 miles into the ride we stopped at an aid station and the cleat for my left shoe fell off. Luckily FH was able to fix it so that I could ride to the next aid station, at around 39 miles, to get a replacement screw. Unfortunately, at that station, I picked up a goathead and after eating some cantaloupe came back to where we had dropped our bikes and my front tire was totally flat. FH changed it and we continued riding. All was great until my front tire went flat again on the only downhill stretch. I'm not sure how I didn't wreck. FH fixed the front tire again.

At the above mentioned aid station at mile 39 I was starting to bonk because I had only eaten animal crackers, pretzels, and cantaloupe. There were burritos at the 20 mile aid station but I hadn't gotten one because I wasn't hungry and I figured they would have food at the other aid stations. Wrong. Anyway, I decided to try a drink mix called Skratch at the 39 mile aid station, which did make me feel better, until my stomach decided it wanted nothing to do with Skratch. So there I was, riding along a desolate field, feeling like I had to poop. It sucked. The heat and the wind didn't help.

I started to feel a slight ray of hope at mile 65, thinking in less than 10 miles we would arrive at Sterling. But it turned out Sterling was 77, not 74 miles away. And we had to go up two big hills to get there. And of course, only 3 miles away from Sterling, my back tire went flat. We didn't have a new tube to fix it so we patched an old tube and that got me to Sterling. It took every ounce of will power for me to ride the last 5 miles to Sterling. I wanted to quit but luckily FH was there to kick my ass and make me ride.

I would like to take a moment here to apologize to the female riders of ptp. It was I who went into that small, 3 bathroom and 3 shower locker room and pooped the place up. I know it smelled horrible, and believe me, I felt bad, especially after FH saw some of you leaving the locker room because of the smell.

My back tire went flat again while we were at dinner. The bike repair people were gone for the night so we decided to patch another inner tube FH had and hoped it would hold air.

I will spare you the comments about sleeping in a tent on a football field with no shade and with 300 people we didn't know. Next year we are going to a hotel and not camping. Also, they forgot to turn off the sprinkler system for the football field so the bottom of our tent was drenched in water.

At 430 Sunday morning I woke up with a horrible pain in my stomach. I ended up pooping for about 3 hours straight. Given that the ride was 65 miles, after we had ridden 110 miles the previous day, I was worried that I wouldn't finish. FH was also bonking as we left Sterling because they didn't have real breakfast food available to the riders.

By mile 16 FH and I were looking like the walking dead. But when we stopped at the aid station they were selling burritos. I ate one even though I was worried about my stomach. But my stomach was fine (drank a shit ton of water to wash the Skratch out of my system).

My back tire went flat again 2 miles from the next aid station. I was counseled to ride in the middle of the road and to stop getting fucking flat tires. And I admit that I was so tired when another rider passed me and said something like "keep going, almost done!" or "whew, this is so much fun!" I would give them the finger.

By the last aid station, mile 50, FH and I were like "fuck this shit, I want off this bike!" We bought two new tubes and hoped I would not get another flat. Then we took off riding toward the finish, all out. We were averaging about 17 MPH and passing people like crazy even though the ride was uphill. Around mile 53 the wind was FINALLY at our backs and we rode to mile 69, the finish, in an hour and 15 minutes. The speed was partly due to a misunderstanding on FH's part that the beer garden would close at 3 pm and that we would have to hustle to get a beer (there was NO WAY we were going to not have one last especiale beer after all we had been through). We got to the beer garden at 230.

After a few celebratory beers, and gathering our luggage, we headed back to Ft Morgan for a shower in the RV. Then we went to Cables and I ate a 1/2 lb hamburger and about 2 potatoes worth of french fries while trying to not watch too much of the broncos game since FH recorded it to watch tonight. We were so exhausted we fell asleep around 7 PM and didn't wake up until 630 this morning.

So, 7 dead rattlesnakes on the road, 6 flat tires, 2 lost screws, 710 ounces of water, later, we decided to do the ptp next year. But this time we aren't camping. And we'll start training more than 3 weeks before the event (I figured out I rode 300 miles to train for a 183 mile ride - kind of stupid).

at the start, friday at Wiggins - I put the sticker on my bike in the wrong place and it was getting caught in my back tire so FH had to move it

sunday, at the beer garden, exhausted but with a medal and a beer, happy ending!

getting ready to pedal the plains!

I just finished packing for the pedal the plains trip! I'm feeling pretty good considering I haven't had much time to ride my bike. Well, what ever happens happens, I need to work on having fun doing stuff instead of trying to make everything a physical torture fest (though, I find that fun...what's wrong with me).

Even if everything goes to shit and my knee blows up or my hip flexors kill me, the beer garden is open from 9 am to 9 pm.

In other news, today I finally went to a Rockies game. I've walked past stadium I can't even estimate how many times (a lot) but the thought of baseball never appealed to me. But my company gave me a free ticket so I decided what the the fuck. I went with a bunch of my colleagues and two colleagues that were in one of the work movies I made showed me around the stadium. It was so cool. I definitely want to go back there again and I feel bad that my dad suggested we go to a game when he was in town and I declined...

My colleague P, who was a great collaborator on my work movies, patiently answered all my baseball questions (he has kids, so he's used to annoying questions). He also insisted I try a pumpkin flavored micro brew (the bartender said "if you don't like it throw it on him and I'll get you what ever you want for free" - P said "did you give him a bigger tip than I did?").

I found the stadium (which was only a quarter full) totally relaxing. It was cool to watch the pitchers warm up only feet away from where we were standing (you can go to this one part of the stadium and look down into their dug out thing or what ever it's called). And it was a pretty fast moving game for, I guess, a baseball game. I understand now why people have told me that it's better to watch in person.

I had a chicago hot dog for the first time (I was assured that it was beef, no pork). A chicago hot dog has cucumbers, tomatoes, hot peppers, celery salt, relish, and brown mustard on it. The CTO of my company, who was sitting behind me, said "I have never seen someone eat a hot dog with a fork" (it was too big to fit in my mouth - insert joke here). My colleague D laughed, because he's chinese, and he said "great, I have no experience eating this kind of food and I get sat next to the one american who doesn't know how to eat a hot dog".

Eventually everyone sitting around me was jumping in with baseball facts to increase my knowledge (there's a row of purple seats in the stadium that mark exactly where a mile high is, there's numbers on the fence to show how many feet away from the batting mound a ball has been hit, each player gets to pick their own theme song which plays for a few seconds when they are up to bat, you get points if you hit the ball and someone gets a home run, that's called an RBI).

Right then. Off to put my knees through electroshock therapy. Stay tuned for updates on the ride...

dispensing the pot heads

On Saturday, FH's birthday, I met him and a group of his friends at the big wonderful. Some of the friends were from out of town and wanted to get some pot. They asked me where the closest dispensary was and I was like "I have no fucking idea". So they looked up a dispensary on the phone and I offered to escort them to it because 1. they are country club kids and not used to my kind of neighborhood and 2. I've never been to a dispensary before.

We walked to a dispensary on Lawrence. It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen. There was a row of chairs like those you find in a movie theater. About 8 people were hanging out in the chairs in various stages of intoxication. There was a glass window like something you'd see in a gas station that gets robbed a lot where pot wanters had to check in (not sure what that process required, showing an ID or something). When it was your turn they would call each person individually to go back into the pot area and pick what they wanted.

One of the guys I brought over there said "this is my idea of heaven - pot and golf" (they were showing a golf game on a flat screen TV). Another guy started asking me about some work I used to do with various law enforcement agencies. I was telling him about working with the calgary gov. Pretty soon all the pot heads had left, quietly shuffling out the door. Haha, paranoid much.

Anyway, at some point your name gets called and you go back into the pot room and pick what you want. The guys got gummi bears. They let two of them go back at the same time but normally they only let in one person at a time. I was outside by that point because the smell of the pot (just the smell of the product, no one was smoking it) made me want to puke.

The pot comes in a white bubble wrap envelope that has what looks like a zipper seal on it. That's how you can carry the pot in public (think you aren't supposed to carry it in public after the zipper seal is broken - I should have asked before the guys ate the gummi bears - one told me "look, I'm just trying to enjoy my high, quit asking me questions").

Oddly while I was in there I had flashbacks of going to the A&E store to buy wine in Abu Dhabi...but that place smelled good.

cherry creek snake street

Got more miles in on my bike last week. I'm even tightening my clipless pedals up. Everything training wise is going well EXCEPT...

why can I not ride ONE FUCKING TIME without seeing a snake?

Saturday was by far my worst snake experience. I was riding on the cherry creek trail, coming around a blind turn, when I saw, just a few feet away, a GIANT snake. I mean that fucker was so long and so thick that it was stretched across the trail and still had part of its body coiled in the grass. If that snake could stand up it would have an NBA contract. Well, it would also need prosthetic arms, but you get the idea.

I couldn't swerve to the left of it because I would have run over its body coil and probably wrecked. I couldn't swerve to the right of it because then I would have been close to its mouth. So I ran it over. It was like hopping a curb. The snake's head reared up at me even though I yelled "sorry about that!" as I ran it over.

Now, you are probably wondering the same thing I wondered. Why was this snake crossing the bike trail? His starting point was next to the creek, with plenty of sunny rocks, and nice trees, and other bushes and shit where he could hang out and not be seen by me. Instead he was crossing the trail to a gravel area that had dog shit  and trash in it and which then led to a parking lot. Not exactly snake nirvana. (note to denverites, this happened near the cherry creek mall, so many reasons to never go to the mall, and now I have another one)

So, unless that snake had a car and somewhere to go in it, or was hoping to hitch a ride to Wyoming or somewhere that's far away from me, he had no reason to cross that trail other than to torment me (I should mention the "trail" is a really wide sidewalk, so you can't claim the snake didn't realize it was a trail for humans and not snakes). He couldn't have been trying to get positive attention, like "oh look, there's a cute snake!" because he was too big to be cute (if you consider small snakes cute - probably no one does because they would be called something like "puppy" or "kitten" - I don't know, maybe they would be called "snakey" if they were cute when they were little).

A guy coming the other direction ran the snake over again but the snake persisted in crossing the trail. I actually had my phone with me and part of my brain was like "you REALLY need to take a picture and you can stand 20 feet away where you're safe" but the other part of my brain was like "DAMN IT! WHY did you ride on all those hills KNOWING THERE MIGHT BE A SNAKE ON THE TRAIL AND THAT YOU'D HAVE TO GET AWAY FROM IT???? PEDAL YOU FUCK BEFORE THE SNAKE GETS US! PEDDDDDDAAAAALLLLL!!!!!" That part of my brain won.

Given that the bike trail is wide enough for 3 bikes to ride comfortably abreast, and that at least 1/4 of the snake was still coiled up on the side of the trail, I would estimate the size of the snake to be REALLY FUCKING BIG. The snake was yellowish with a brown box like pattern on its back. I tried looking at a web site to see if I could identify the snake but after looking at a few pictures I decided to let my dad maybe figure out what snake it was as I can't take the trauma of looking at snake pictures anymore.

not so saddle sore

On Saturday morning I left my house at 9 am to ride to FH's house so we could go for a training ride. I had low expectations for the day. It was foggy and wet and so cold I wore my skiing fleece.

Things seemed even less auspicious when I realized I had forgotten to wear my helmet and bring my rain jacket. 2 miles into the ride I was taking a ramp onto the cherry creek trail when a rather large man walking up the ramp looked at me and started making pig noises while fondling his genitals. This continued as I exited the ramp onto the trail. I would have stopped to tell him to fuck off but it occurred to me it might be a sign that only crazy people would be out on the bike trail in such crap weather.

FH and I decided to do 40 miles (he ended up doing 38 miles and I did 48). Mr. Nuts kept anxiously jumping into the Ural side car perhaps hoping we would take him with us. He seemed pissed as we rode away from the house and he stood on the kitchen table watching us through the window.

The ride was nice, the weather cleared as soon as we started and I'm surprised how much work has been done on the bike trails since I last rode them. There could not have been a more perfect day for a ride. Both of us feel that we'll be okay on the ride as long as our asses get into condition for sitting in the saddle for long stretches.

When we got back to FH's house we decided that I should ride home and change while FH picked up some pho for dinner. At the tail end of my ride, near a homeless shelter and at a red light, I encountered a homeless guy on a bike. He challenged me to a race. I was like "dude, I can't race anyone, I just rode 47 miles". He said "well, you'd probably still beat me because you have a nicer bike" and I said "just the thought of pedaling fast makes my ass hurt" and he laughed. I told him about training for pedal the plains as we rode down the block to the next light. There was a group of about 20 homeless people on the sidewalk so I made a half hearted attempt at pretending to race my homeless guy. The homeless group cheered us on.

When we got to the next light, to make sure the homeless guy on the bike didn't follow me, I said "I have to go home now". He said "thank you for having a normal conversation with me" and rode off.

On Sunday I got an industrial sized seat for my bike and hurriedly installed it because I was supposed to ride 40 miles and it was already 2 o'clock (long brunch with my friend Cam, have to admit honestly I could have stayed at the brunch all afternoon talking). I realized a block away from the house I had not adjusted the seat right but kept riding because it looked like a storm was moving in. I got the seat fixed when I got home but can't ride today because of storms.

Oh, and a quick note here. I tried clipless pedals in 2003 for the first time and damn near killed myself. It was almost impossible to get my shoes clipped in, and when I did finally get them in they wouldn't come out (e.g. I fell down a 10 foot ravine and when a boulder stopped my downward progress, my shoes were still clipped into the pedals). Over the years I've had many bike friends (some of whom were competitive bikers) counsel me on clipless pedals but I could never get the hang of them.

FH installed some clipless pedals on my bike and adjusted them so that all I have to do is put my foot on the pedal and my shoes clip in. I still have to twist my foot a little to unclip but it just makes me wonder, and I won't list the 3 bike shops here, or my bike friends, WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T ANYONE EVER TELL ME THAT I COULD ADJUST CLIPLESS PEDALS SO THAT THEY ARE SO EASY TO USE???????????????????

Okay, I'm over being mad. And huge thanks to FH for fixing up my pedals and making me feel like a less clumsy jew and less dorky bike rider (never going back to baskets).

Oh, wait a minute...I have a huge horrible seat on my bike now...oh well, guess I'll never be a cool biker...

needed: a fat ass

FH had been talking to me about doing the pedal the plains bike ride for a few weeks and all I seemed to register from the conversation was the word "easy". Last thursday (I think? or wednesday?) he said we needed to sign up so we signed up. I should mention at this point that although I ride my cruiser around town a lot I haven't been on a "real" ride since last November (not making excuses but I've been working a lot this summer and was not allowed to ride after my surgery).

I was reading through the logistics for the ride and discovered that, although friday is an easy ride (about 34 miles) saturday and sunday are long rides (72 and 67 miles). When I first looked at the web site I was in a work meeting and only bothered to check out the friday mileage. The furthest I've ever ridden a bike in one go is 65 miles. So that should be interesting.

Anyway, the weather was not very cooperative until Saturday morning when I donned my usual riding outfit and set off for a 20 mile bike re-acquaintance ride. First mistake - although I own bike pants I never wear them because they look hideous, so I just wore my lululemon yoga pants. When I was riding a lot they were fine. But because I've been out of the saddle for a while, they weren't. I ended up with a seriously chafed ass. I was practically crying by the time I finished my ride.

Sunday I could hardly sit down so I didn't ride. Monday I did another ride and this time wore two pairs of bike pants with my yoga pants over them. Since I have a non-existent ass I looked like I had stuffed an accordion down the back of my pants. I'm sure the people riding behind me were making fun of me. suggested I "gain 2 pounds of pure fat" on my ass by 19 September. Um. I don't think that will happen.

I'm also getting worried about the ride. I'm the type of person who trains for everything months in advance. I'm sure I'll be fine but I psyche myself out when I feel I don't have a ridiculously long time to train for things. Also, I'm pissed that for 20 miles on the bike I only get 7500 steps on my fitbit.

And, this just in...my dad sent me a text that he was thinking to buy me some "lady fair anti chafing cream" described as "Provides all-day comfort and helps prevent chafing, sweat rashes and irritation around the bust, buttocks, between legs and other private areas."

I'd rather be in pain than use lady fair anti chafing cream.

"hat" mail

It's just been one of those weeks this week...

On Wednesday I was walking on my treadmill when I noticed a large group of people sitting on my front step. I didn't think much of it until I went to get the mail and noticed they were still there, 4 hours later (approximately 5 PM). I didn't say anything to them, just got my mail.

I heard something put through my mail slot around 530. It turned out to be two flowers and what my neighbors all called "hate mail".

not sure what this says, my best guess is "I hate you, I'm your boyfriend" or "I hate you and your boyfriend"(????) or "I hate you I'm your brother" - no idea - though, interesting to deliver bad news that you hate someone with flowers

As I was retrieving this letter I asked the people sitting right up against my safety door if I could help them. The guy in the group made a phone call and a few minutes later a car came to pick them up.

what the fuck? and how did all these people fit in that little car?

I'm not sure what's going on but it isn't the first time this has happened. It's always a group that appears to be a family of some type, with an adult male and female and a bunch of kids. Not sure what to do. I don't want to be rude to them but I don't want them hanging out in front of my house. They left a bunch of trash which I had to pick up.

This on top of a series of abandoned vehicles that have been left in front of the end unit in the building, including a closed jeep. We kept calling to have it removed, but that took a month, and things were being piled into the jeep during the time it was parked in front (couldn't see what the stuff was because the windows were tinted).

One of my neighbors texted me thursday morning thanking me for giving him flowers. I was like "I didn't give you flowers" and sent him the above pic of the letter. He was like "haha, glad they hate you instead of me". Sigh. He also believes, for reasons not easy to fathom, that an abandoned vespa scooter in front of his house is being used by the cops to film people going in and out of the house across from his which has a lot of drug traffic, domestic violence incidents, and other fucked up stuff going on.

Don't ask me, I have no idea...

yard, 2005 - 2014

I'm still shocked every time someone compliments my back yard. I recently found these pics taken in August 2005 when I moved in:

back of the house, the wood deck was falling apart and the upper deck was too dangerous to go out on

close up of the back of the house - my dad bought me those flowers and then they died

my backyard - that crap concrete walkway was completely uneven and I didn't have a garage

In 2014:

built the garage in 2006 and then had the yard professionally landscaped in 2010

house was repainted, the upper deck replaced, the lower deck replaced with concrete and under decking installed

new furniture

And here's what my new furniture looks like. Special thanks to FH for driving us down to Salida and hauling the furniture home in his truck...

new table! it's made of buckeye burl - had no idea it was exotic wood...I love this table because it has cool holes in it like the countertop I wanted to get for my bathroom, but didn't

new cabinet in the kitchen!

Ken made this bowl for me - my dad always teases me that he spends so much money there but I'm the one who gets free stuff

new cabinet - it's custom made out of barn wood and then done with a crackle finish - Ken and his wife said they were glad it was going to a good home - so far I've put my cook books and apron in it - nicer to hide them away rather than looking at them and feeling guilty for not cooking...

And here's the table my dad and I bought three years ago from Ken:

now all I have to do is learn to cook and throw a party...

Chihuly exhibit at the botanic gardens

My parents and I went to see the Chihuly exhibit at the BC last week. We saw it during the day and then went back to see it at night. They start lighting it up around 530. It was fantastic. Anyone within a 200 mile radius of Denver should come see it.

big wonderful and furniture

This past week was way too busy. My parents got into town on Sunday and I'm taking some vacation this week so last week I basically had to do two weeks of work and prep for the parental visit and I worked the big wonderful with Jessica and Edglas.

could it have been any fucking hotter? no. but, great spot for the tent set up.

Got home from BW kind of late on Saturday, finished cleaning, and then picked my parents up. They were shocked at all the work I've done in my house. Today I took the day off and we went to Salida to Spirit Mountain, where my dad and I bought my cool dining room table. I seriously wasn't going to buy anything today.

first, we had to take a pic of this weird art thing - FH later said "if you ever buy art that has anything to do with children, even alien children, I will worry."

then my parents and I went to the laughing lady - had this amazing curry zucchini soup with yogurt - and I had an omelet with goat cheese, spinach, and tomatoes

my dad got this work desk - even though I can't imagine all his stuff fitting on it - for his second office

I was looking for a cabinet for my kitchen to fill in the space where my versa climber used to be. And I found this...

custom made really cool cabinet - I'll have to take a pic when I get it home - it's custom made with a crackle finish that looks like a mix between copper and leather

and...um...this...

coolest. table. ever. my dad's leg, sitting at his new desk...the wine did not come with either piece of furniture.

Why do I go furniture shopping with my dad. That's like take Imeda Marcos shoe shopping.

But, in my defense, Spirit Mountain was closed today but Ken happened to be in because he's finishing a project so it was like fate wanted me to buy some furniture. And size wise both pieces of furniture fit perfectly where I want to put them. And they were on sale.

Other things that happened while buying furniture...Ken invited me to go with him to burning man and a guy who makes antler chandeliers spilled a beer on my feet (washing my flip flops for the third time because they are still sticky). I'm sure we'll get up to more nonsense before the week is over...

the biggest basket wins

I had a 9 am post op follow up appointment with my doctor today. Last week I ordered a nice bowl full of Patchi chocolates for his office because everyone there has been so nice to me. I was pretty careful when I picked it out to make sure it matched the architecture of the office (Patchi has some pretty tacky arrangements for chocolates - especially this time of year since it was just end of Ramadan / Eid).

Anyway, when I went in this morning the first thing my doctor did was high five me. Apparently the chocolates arrived yesterday and Patchi sent them in some ridiculous packaging that took about 5 minutes to open. By that time the whole office was standing around like "what the fuck is in that box?" When they realized it was chocolate chaos ensued. My doctor's colleague (the guy who sent me to my doctor, they share an office) is pretty competitive and always rubbing it in my doctor's face when he gets a basket or whatever because no one ever sends them to my doctor (he's 20 years younger and he said his colleague always gives him the "problem children", which I assume means me, and he doesn't get to spend much time with medical reps who usually send the baskets).

 Anyway, the arrangement Patchi put together was bigger than anything his colleague has ever gotten, and a lot nicer (according to my doctor's assistant), so all day yesterday my doctor was walking around the office saying "so, did you get any baskets today? because I got one" and "I win because I got the biggest basket". And he told me he got even more "basket cred" (his words) because it was from a patient and not from some "fucking medical rep" (also his words). As I was leaving my doctor was walking around the waiting area with the bowl the chocolates came in saying "hm, this fits in so well with the decor, I wonder where I should put it" while his colleague looked on from the front desk. He genuinely seemed a little pissed and didn't even say goodbye to me when I left.

HAHAHA!!!!

In other news he's really happy with my progress and said "just go back to doing everything you normally do because I know you're probably doing it anyway". And he congratulated me on how well the surgery went and I said "I just laid there. You did all the work."

Awkward silence.

Luckily I don't have to see him again for another month. So embarrassing.

slip and slide, the movie

FH sent me this movie that Captain Hook's girlfriend took of them going down the slip and slide.

Saturday - The Greatest Redneck Slip and Slide

First, I would like to thank the fucking asshole who stole my credit card number and bought a bunch of shit at Bed, Bath, and Beyond in california. I'm sure what ever you bought sucks. Luckily I have a great bank and they were able to take care of the problem without me having to do anything but answer a text message.

And that was the start of what proved to be an interesting weekend. Yesterday I had to get seeds so FH agreed to go with me to the nursery. Then we went to the farmer's market and he got a bunch of vegetables for cooking and I bought nectarines because you don't have to cook them to eat them.

When we were dropping the vegetables off at his house we decided, since it was the first day in a long time this summer that didn't look like rain, to go for a ride in his Ural side car. We took Mr. Nuts with us because he loves the side car.

luckily, dogs aren't allowed to get driver's licenses

Then we met some of FH's friends at an event in my neighborhood called the big wonderful which is describes as a "food flea market" but was like going to someone's huge backyard for a party. As things were winding down there we went to dada art bar and ended up in a restaurant in the same building but I'm not sure it was part of the dad art bar or not. As copious drinks were consumed, and I iced my jaw, Captain Hook, a friend of FH's, got a text from a friend of his named Kenny G that he had just been invited to a party in the middle of bum fuck nowhere and that there was a huge slip and slide at the party that should not be missed.

Some conversation ensued among 6 of us about going to the party. It was out past the airport. It was around 10 pm. The directions were along the lines of "take this road, and when you see a grain truck, turn on that road, and then drive until you can find a parking space". We didn't even know whose party it was.

So of course we decided to go. FH and I went back to my house, picked up some towels and Mr. Nuts, and then picked up Captain Hook and his girlfriend. Another couple followed us. And Captain Hook had invited more friends.

In any case, we found the party, and they were not lying about the slip and slide.

a golf cart with a dinosaur head on it took riders up to the top of the slip and slide because, in the words of one of the slip and slide builders, "that's too far to walk"

a guy at the bottom would turn on a hose to get the water flowing and another guy driving an ATV was at the bottom of the pool with a rope attached to the back of the ATV - the riders hold a tether and the ATV pulls them at speeds up to 45 MPH down the slip and slide and into the pool at the bottom

these baby carriages were for hauling beer around the party, and yes, those are deflated pool toys in the, um, pool at the bottom of the slip and slide

a broken boat was turned into a bar at the bottom of the pool - the dj was really good - the horse trough right behind the pool was a true redneck hot tub, they heated it up with fire

the guys preparing to haul riders down the slip and slide

I really wanted to go down the slip and slide but since I just had surgery on my jaw and since FH was there I decided not to. Captain Hook, FH, and Kenny G decided to go down together. Captain Hook, who's kind of spindly because he only eats gummi bears, decided to ride in front. Kenny G, who played football in college and is not a small man, decided to go last, naked. FH was sandwiched between the two of them.

As they came tearing down the slip and slide it seemed like they were having fun. The problem is Captain Hook didn't let go of the tether until they had almost hit the pool, meaning they were going VERY fast. I saw Captain Hook fly into the pool as a giant wave splashed towards the slip and slide. I saw Kenny G's bare ass as he face planted in the pool. I could not see FH at all.

Finally FH surfaced from the mud and water. He ended up getting crushed by Kenny G and was having problems walking this morning. They all said it was fun, but terrifying, and that they couldn't see anything as they were going down because of the muddy water on the slip and slide.

Around 1 am I was freezing (I know, 2 August, and it had to have been in the low 60s at most, colder in the wind) so FH, Captain Hook, his girlfriend, and I headed back to Denver.

And FH promised next year (they only have the slip and slide for one day, for the party) I could go down the slip and slide as long as I'm not recovering from surgery.

I decided to take it easy today, clean my car, and make stuffed peppers for dinner. Hopefully they will be edible.

maybe my doctor is a lot like me - weird coincidence

I made fun of my doctor about wanting to be me. And maybe he is more like me than I thought...

How's this for a weird coincidence? Ever since the first time I went to his office I felt like I had been there before. But I knew I hadn't, if for no other reason than his office is in Cherry Creek and I hate that place.

Then yesterday morning, as I was getting ready to leave for my appointment to get my stitches out (turns out, actually, they were staples) I realized where I had seen his office before.

When I hired my architect for my kitchen remodel she gave me a book of projects. It turns out one of the projects she did was my doctor's office. I don't know how my furry brain made the connection (still feeling really out of it from the antibiotics, maybe? or getting a dose of special k with a muscle relaxer and vicodin? drinking tons of water trying to get all of that shit out of my system).

Anyway, it was an interesting surprise.

I almost passed out from pain getting my stitches out but my jaw is starting to look more normal. Still no nerve pain. I have a big bump on the side of my right jaw which I'm guessing is where he put a screw but I'm not sure. He was surprised how little bruising I have and seemed more surprised when I told him I keep ice on my face pretty much the whole time I'm awake (can't take pain meds - it helps with the pain). I was also lectured for walking 8 miles on Wednesday, and when I pointed out that he said to do half my regular activity, which is walking 16 miles, he just sighed and walked out of the room.

I also violated the "no house work for 4 weeks" rule today. Seriously, who can go 4 weeks without cleaning the house? It took me 3 hours to clean because I haven't done a thorough cleaning in 1 1/2 weeks. Imagine after 4 weeks. It would be an entire weekend project.

I get to take tomorrow off as a sick day (hooray! had a call with my manager, and I can't talk very well, and he said "you sound like you're in so much pain, just take tomorrow off and get some rest"). I might go to the botanic gardens since I also was feeling well enough today to order more self watering planters for my patio. I also got a trellis for my raspberries, which have gone insane, and some tomato cages (not exactly sure how to use those but I thought it would be fun to tell people I have tomato cages).

And my neighbor is supposedly bringing me a piece of home made boston cream pie, which I've never had, because she feels sorry for me because my jaw is all fucked up. I looked up boston cream pie since I had no idea what it was, and it turns out it's actually a cake.

Another excuse for why I can't cook. Who calls a pie a cake?

thanks for that, Bob and Steve

I've been talking about doing the rim-rim-rim in the Grand Canyon since 2009. Depending on my surgery recovery I was thinking to do it in September or October. I want to do it non-stop, with no support, in under 24 hours (it's about 42 miles or longer depending on what trail is taken.

So my brother Steve sent me this: http://fivethirtyeight.com/datalab/dying-at-the-grand-canyon/

Advice taken.

And my other brother sent me this warning about dying of the bubonic plague:

I thought you might be interested in this article 3 more diagnosed with rare plague in Colorado.

Maybe that's why no one wants to visit me :)

my surgery update

Not that I'm out of my surgery induced haze...

An Army doctor who's specialty is treating jaw trauma in vets came to my surgery and donated his time to help. He heard about me through a non-profit I work with for wounded vets (Paradox Sports). They had to cut the front of my chin which is going to look a little funky. The surgeons were all making fun of me because I literally read my book until they put me to sleep. The Army doctor said "After I'm done you might look like you showed up at a knife fight with a book as your weapon" He also said, after just talking to me for two minutes "you're the kind of person who would read that book* at the airport to freak people out." He also was kind enough to donate some prosthetic material that would fit my face (my face is too small to use the regular stuff. And he said my pink hair made me his favorite patient.

Anyway, I could care less about the scars because the pain in my jaw is finally GONE. Even through it hurts still it hurts in a different way. Turns out I had two pinched nerves, one in front of my face and one on the left side (I kept thinking it was my right side, guess I don't know my right from my left - it's the right side in the mirror).

white tape is where the front scar will be - I have another scar under my chin too

 FH drove me to the surgery and was kind enough to donate his zero gravity lawn chair (which he fixed up with a comforter) since I can't sleep laying down for at least 6 weeks. The chair was comfortable and I slept really well. 

we called it the crip-o-lounger

I just went to my first post op appointment. The doc did not wire my jaw shut and I'm on the honor system to not eat solid food. Which, to be honest, is not that hard of a promise to keep since I can't really open my mouth.

In any case, I plan to be back to work by Tuesday if everything goes well. My biggest issue at the moment is having to talk with a bandage around my head and my eye sight (the anti-biotic they gave me dilates my pupils so words are really blurry). Hoping that side effect will ease up after I've taken it a few days.

So, off to a weekend of Naked Juice and blendered vegetable soup. Tried to blend up some arugula for breakfast this morning but it just made a mess so I'll stick to the store bought juices...

*book is called The Skies Belong To Us and it's a history of hijackings from the early 60s and how airport security evolved. very interesting. did you know hijacking a plane wasn't even illegal until 1970? and most of the hijackers were teenage boys...

an experience with amber

I was sitting on my couch last night (walked for 8 hours yesterday, exhausting!) watching the red riding trilogy (pick up something new every time) when I heard this horrible noise that sounded like those weather alerts you hear on the radio (boop beep beep screeeee scrEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE). I was like where the fuck is that coming from? Then my blackberry lit up and started vibrating.

Of course my first thought was did one of my brothers hack my phone to fuck with me???? Then I realized it was an amber alert. Soon after my phone stopped making that horrible noise I received a text and then an email with the amber alert information. It was not very clear from an informational perspective (something about amber alert, Oklahoma, what I think was a license plate number, and then the rest was just gibberish). I tried to save it but it automatically deleted off my phone.

Minutes after receiving the text / email helicopters started circling my neighborhood and that went on for about an hour.

This is what the amber alert was about. Maybe the alerts we receive in Colorado aren't as good as those in Oklahoma, or maybe mine got garbled somehow. This was a comment on the linked story:

Amber Alert Indeed! Yesterday morning driving on an Oklahoma freeway, the Amber Alert signs lit up. Then last evening around 8:30 pm my cell phone started beeping like a tornado was enroute. What popped up was a very specific Amber Alert for this baby, with the license number and specific description of the car.


Another commenter on the story said the kidnapped kid was found...

my crazy neighbor steals my toothbrush

Last week I ordered a new electric toothbrush because my TMJ is causing some problems with my teeth and my dentist suggested I get a better electric toothbrush (I constantly grind my back teeth which is bad).

I was expecting my new toothbrush yesterday, and was probably more excited than a normal person would be about its arrival. It has settings so it's gentler than my existing electric toothbrush. It doesn't have the smiley face feature where a little smiley face displays when I've brushed my teeth for over two minutes (I know it;s strange, but I normally brush my teeth for at least four minutes) but it does have what the toothbrush maker calls a "sector alarm" to alert the brusher when she's brushed one area long enough.

Anyway, I was in a meeting, walking on my treadmill (14 miles today), looking out the window when I saw my crazy neighbor walk up to my door. Then I saw him walk away with an amazon package which I knew was my toothbrush. I was like WHAT THE FUCK, THAT'S MY TOOTHBRUSH!!!!!!!!! Before I could text him he texted me "I saw a package in your security door and brought it to my house. Let me know when you're home". I was like "I am home now." I wanted to say "BRING ME MY FUCKING TOOTHBRUSH POST HASTE OR I WILL RIP YOUR BALLS OFF!!!!!!!" but I was trying to be polite.

A few minutes later he rang my door bell. The package had been partially opened. But the toothbrush was all sealed up so I was willing to let it slide. I was like "why did you take my package out of the door?" and he said "I just assumed you weren't home" (funny, because I've had packages too big to fit in the security door sit in the snow and rain for days without any of my neighbors taking them in - and this package was in the door - and I'm always home these days).

Then he said "oh, while I'm here, can I see your crawl space redo?" So I showed it to him. He said "how much would you charge me to do mine?" and I said "a million dollars" and he said "all kidding aside" and I said "I'm not kidding".

So, I wonder...did he steal my toothbrush in an attempt to get me to redo his crawl space?

And people say I'm weird...