Socially inappropriate magnetism

I like eccentric people. There’s something very genuine and honest about being socially inappropriate. I screen my friends for too much normalcy because I find it to be utterly suspicious. People who constantly smile terrify me.

My tolerance was tested last week, though. I had been trying to contact a certain professor, and I knew from past experience that he didn’t answer his e-mail…ever. This annoyed me, as I consider answering e-mail at least weekly to be part of your job as a clinician at a teaching hospital. I attempted to track him down in his office in the 10 minutes between classes for a week and a half. His office is on the other side of the building and on the third story, so I got a pretty good workout, but no reward. His office was stubbornly empty.

Finally, I caught him. He was very nearly obscured by the stacks of papers on his desk, but the quick glimpse I got revealed thick glasses and a face that hadn’t been shaved in a while. After introducing myself, I asked him about a rotation, got a satisfactory answer, thanked him, and turned to go.

Inexplicably, he called out, “Do you bake cookies?”

He acted as if this were a perfectly natural and relevant question to ask.

“Umm, yeah, I like to bake,” I replied, still winded from climbing the stairs. Feeding off his impish grin, I haughtily arched my neck. “Actually, I make very excellent cookies.”

He turned back to his computer and said, “Good. Prove it!”

After a few more exchanges, he settled on chocolate chip.

Normally, if an old white man I barely know insisted that I bake him cookies, I’d tell him to shove it. But this guy’s eccentricity won me over. I’ll be making those cookies, and I’ll share my recipe with you later this week.

What I’m cooking:

Vegetarian Steamed Dumplings 
Recipe from Alton Brown

Ingredients
1/2 pound firm tofu
1/2 cup coarsely grated carrots
1/2 cup shredded Napa cabbage
2 tablespoons finely chopped red pepper
2 tablespoons finely chopped scallions
2 teaspoons finely minced fresh ginger
1 tablespoon chopped cilantro leaves
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon hoisin sauce
2 teaspoons sesame oil
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Bowl of water, plus additional water for steamer
35 to 40 small wonton wrappers
Non-stick vegetable spray, for the steamer

Moab's Red Hot 33k

We did it! We finished within 10 minutes of each other with smiles on our faces. Jason palmed the camera during the run, for which he deserves a medal.

I’ve had a really busy week at school (the busiest of the semester, I think/hope), so I won’t write up a traditional race report, but here are the salient features of my longest race to date: 

• The Fort Collins Trail Runners are fantastic beyond words. Fun, welcoming, and just the right mix of crazy for my taste! I came home with some sore quads and calves, but my throat was equally sore from post-race laughs and storytelling. 
• My mental toughness is improving! I was under-trained for the race due to general busyness, a bit of laziness, and some babying of my IT bands, so I expected a really tough grind for the last 5 miles of the race. When the slickrock started to tear my legs to shreds, I was able to dig deep, sans the ensuing vomitus I typically provide. 

• Jason and I ran the first 6-7 miles together. This was the first time we've run together for any significant portion of a race, and I loved it. I kept blabbing about the song I had stuck in my head, and Jason didn’t miss a beat when joining me in belting out the chorus. “Oooh weee oooh, I look just like Buddy Holly-- Oh, oh, and you’re Mary Tyler Moore. I don’t care what they say about us anyway; I don’t care ‘bout that!” (That would be Weezer, for those with crinkled brows.) 

• My nutrition worked out perfectly. Oatmeal and ½ banana for breakfast. I carried 10 oz of electrolyte water and topped off at miles 8 and 15. I ate my first Clif Shotblok 45 minutes into the race and ate one every 30 minutes thereafter, even if my stomach was lurching. I also had a small but glorious handful of pretzels at the 2nd aid station. To be honest, I really wanted to suck the salt off them and spit the remainder on the ground, but I figured that would be considered uncouth. (Ha, coming from a group of people who belch, fart, snot-rocket and god knows what else on their way to the finish line, uncouth seems pale in comparison! Wasteful, though.) Ended up with a total of 200 calories. 

• 3.2% beer possibly has a place on this planet as a post-race recovery beverage. It seems blasphemous, but I rather enjoyed my low alcohol beer all week. Ska Brewing’s True Blonde (5.3%) rehydrated me, and then I moved onto New Belgium’s Sunshine Ale as a throwback to a previous Moab trip, and its 4.8% ABV was also quite tolerable to a sketchy stomach while still allowing for my grandiose proclamations regarding future races.

• Finally, and most importantly.  The awesome thing about being slow and inexperienced is having tremendously low expectations of yourself.  "What? I finished, and I didn't throw up or die?  F*ck yeah, I'm a rockstar!"

A Love Story

In honor of Valentine’s Day, I will tell you the story of how I decided I would marry my boyfriend, who is now my fiancé.

Four years ago, my sister moved out of the apartment we shared in college, and Jason filled in the empty space. I had recently turned 21.

I went to a bachelorette party at a nearby apartment. Jason offered to come pick me up if I decided to drink. I said (exact quote), “No, it’s ok. I don’t really feel like drinking tonight.”

The party had a “cock”tail theme, so I wore a black dress and heels.

Innocent bystanders cropped out of incriminating evidence 

…that’s pretty much all I remember.

Then I am jarred awake to the sun rising and a pounding headache. I’m naked…I’m in a bed. I panic, thinking I have possibly just made the worst mistake of my life.

I glimpse a shock of red hair as I roll over, which releases my heart from my throat a little.

I dimly recognized my own bed, but I was on the “wrong” side, which provided a surprisingly significant change to the scenery.

“Oh God, I don’t remember how I got home,” I croaked.

Jason peeled his eyes a little and then sat up in bed. He looked cranky.

As he spoke, he got decidedly crankier.

“I got a call saying you’d been over-served. When I got there, the girl at the door didn’t know me. She didn’t believe I was your boyfriend and kept glaring at me like I’m some pederast. Then, you couldn’t walk, so I had to carry you OVER MY SHOULDER from the car to our apartment [on the 3rd floor]. The damn football players on the 1st floor were having a party in the parking lot, and I’m pretty sure they thought I rufied and claimed a sorority girl.  I couldn't tell if they were going to kick my ass or congratulate me.”

I stared at him uncomprehending, trying vainly to remember the previous evening. I started to quantify the number and content of drinks I had drunk to elucidate the etiology of my very first blackout, but it made me nauseous, and I had to stop.

I tried to lighten the mood by teasing him “Why I am naked? Did you have your way with me?  Did I miss anything?”

Jason’s jaw flinched as he replied, “You were dry-heaving for 3 hours. I went to bed after I figured you wouldn’t f*cking die.”

“Well, that would explain why it feels like Rambo donkey-kicked me in the abs…”, I thought.

But then, he sighed, kissed my forehead, and got me some soup. Of course, he commemorated my shame by snapping this photo, which I will share with you for his gratification.

Drugs are bad, mmkay?

I decided if someone stuck by me through the worst decisions of my life, albeit with a little snark and a bit of humor, he was someone I should try to snag.   It took four more years, but dammit, I have a ring. And a dog, and a cat...and a joint bank account.  Let's face it, he's stuck!

(In reality, the premise of this story is entirely a lie because we’d already been dating for almost 2 years when this event took place, and I had decided many months prior to that point that this guy was a keeper. But hey, I’m only concerned with the semantics.)

What I’m cooking:

We had STEAK! For the first time since….I can’t even remember, sadly. A long time. Since they were on sale, we also had some oysters as an appetizer. Paired with some nice red wine (also on sale) and an easy chocolate recipe, we had ourselves a little Tuesday night party until I got a nosebleed…which is why I’m sitting on the couch typing this with a Kleenex shoved up my nose instead of snoozing with my beau. 

All together, the meal cost $40 total. That’s really steep for an average meal but totally a steal when compared to going out to eat. 

Here’s to finding someone who loves you, scars and all. Cheers!

Chocolate bread pudding recipe courtesy of Cooking Light magazine

http://www.myrecipes.com/recipe/chocolate-chunk-bread-puddings-10000000421669/

Nom, Nom, Nom

Yes, we still have our college dishware

Mormon college friends,
If I hadn't mortally offended you yet, I certainly have now.  Nice knowing you!
With apologies to my parents, also

The Great Plague of 2012

I tend to be a fairly healthy person, not prone to episodes of undignified sniffling (unless I’m complaining about something). Every so often, though, I am reminded of my mortality as I succumb to a contagion.

This one knocked me on my butt, likely in retribution for my holier-than-thou, I-never-get-sick attitude.

Cold medicine and I have never gotten along well. Even though I generally take a half dose, I always experience what is most accurately described as severe mental disturbance. I am over-excitable but irritable, unfocused, disoriented, and prone to episodes of nonsensical gibberish. It doesn’t seem to be a specific ingredient. It’s the combination of decongestants and expectorants that somehow bring out the crazy in me.

As I was sitting in class on Friday, my peripheral vision began to distort. It was like a wormhole was sucking me into the cardiology PowerPoint. Ever seen Donnie Darko? It was like that. I felt my jaw go slack, and I couldn’t for the life of me get it to stay closed, which was probably good, since it provided my only consistent supply of oxygen. As the pressure started to build in my head, I felt detached from the lecture hall surrounding me, as if I were watching everything from a distance. This jarring dissociation, plus the wormhole phenomenon made me casually consider that I was, perhaps, severely mentally ill.

Finally a friend said, “You look terrible. Go home. I will take notes for you.”

Seeing my confusion, which she may have interpreted as hesitation, she said a bit more forcefully, “Go home!”

I mumbled something and wandered off, trying valiantly to remember where I lived.

I spent the weekend curled up in the fetal position on the couch, moaning and wheezing, according to Jason. I was forced to take full doses of medication on a regular schedule, which began to make me paranoid that my liver was putrefying from the onslaught of acetaminophen. I left the house only once to resupply food. I touched about 20 avocados at the King Soopers on Timberline, trying to find a ripe one, so if you got the plague from your guacamole, that’s a gift from me. You’re welcome.

Obviously I’ve survived. My running suffered horrifically, but I’m back on track now, just in time to taper a bit for Moab. Although I’m not expecting a very good showing running-wise, it should be a weekend filled with good friends, awesome scenery, plentiful food and drink, and the obligatory road trip!

What I’m cooking (ahem, baking):

Thin Mint Knock-offs

Recipe here:
http://www.mnn.com/food/recipes/blogs/all-natural-thin-mint-cookies-even-better-than-the-girl-scout-version

I used a 2 inch biscuit/cookie cutter

I haven’t had a Girl Scout version in several years, but it seems this recipe produces a richer and less sweet cookie. I was in a hurry while I was making these for a party a few weeks ago, so I didn’t roll them thin enough, which I think detracted from the final product.

I also didn’t bother digging the iodized salt out of the pantry, so I made the mistake of using kosher salt, instead. We use kosher salt for cooking because it’s easy to pick up a pinch, sprinkles evenly, and we like the taste of it. But it really should never be used for baking. Its larger flakes don’t distribute well in the dough, and the measurements can be off when the recipe is written for iodized salt. Learn from my mistakes, and I think this is a solid recipe.

Kosher salt.  Repeat after me: cooking good, baking bad!

As a side note, I’ve been following the news coverage of the GS transgender hullabaloo. I don’t generally buy GS cookies because I hate buying pre-made items, but I feel compelled to donate some money this year because I applaud their inclusive policy and am saddened by the ensuing backlash from those whose minds inexplicably gravitate toward crying “sexual perversion!” in any situation that makes them uncomfortable.

Running:
February current total: 14 miles
January: Apparently, I can’t do math. My total was actually 98 miles for the month

What Jason’s brewing:  Coconut Porter
This has been a fan favorite, so it’s one of the few brews that he’s made more than once. It will have a slightly different malt profile this time. I’m really excited for this one!