Of Moose And Men
The Best Laid Plans Of Both Often Go Astray

As I approach nine months of married life, I find it treats me well. We’re mostly into our routines of living together, with the occasional bump, but for the most part we’re handling living together in a far-too-small-for-two-people-with-all-the-stuff-we-both-have apartment pretty well. Having an external storage unit has helped somewhat with the level of stuff, but there are still regular discussions about how much more we could do with, say, the kitchen if we had a larger place.

Tri training hasn’t been my largest priority, though I am starting to settle back into a routine, with two races scheduled for this summer. I do need to figure out a strength training routine, which isn’t new, but given that I’m starting over with an extra (far too many) pounds, and I’m over 40, I need the extra support and strength that a strength routine would add. It’s more a matter of finding the time to fit it into my daily/weekly routine so that I’ll do it than it is a matter of knowing what I need to do – I know how to train, it’s getting myself motivated to actually do it that’s the difficult part.

Let’s see, what else? The kittens we adopted last summer (Benjamin and Ezri) are doing well. They’re just about a year old this month and next. They’re definitely more attached to me than to the boy, much to the boy’s annoyance, since he was the one who wanted to adopt them. They tolerate him if I’m not in, but they glom onto me if I’m home. I’m the one they like to sleep on, both at night and when sitting still. They’ve grown up nicely, not as large as my previous cats (Boris and Natasha – they were HUGE for house cats), but nice and healthy. It’s been nice having cats again, and I’m glad the cult co-op changed the rules last year to allow them in legally.

Work’s okay. Settling into being a supervisor, still trying to get a handle on the new areas of law I’m in charge of now. I’m finally booked for the mandatory training they require of new supervisors, which will be mostly a repeat of training I took three years ago, but hey, the rules are the rules, and I’d prefer not to get dinged for not doing something so simple. If only learning the new legal areas were as easy. The personalities are relatively easy to deal with, I like all the folks on my team and they do good work, which helps a lot.

So, yeah, not bad for now, and drama free life doesn’t make for the best writing, hence my quiet of late on here.

I’ll start this by saying I had a chip on my shoulder this morning the size of Cleveland, owing to a bad night of sleep, but I still think this morning’s commute was a weird one.

I should also add that I usually bike to work (10 minute ride!) and now that it’s cool out, I’ve broken out my bright gold cycling jacket with the reflective patches on it. Hard to miss me in something that bright, especially in full sunlight like there was this morning.

First, I get out onto the cul-de-sac, dodge a car idling in the middle of the road, ride 20 feet, and an old woman on another bike wobbles out of her driveway, heading in the same direction I was, and proceeds to ride 3/4 of the way across the lane to the left. I kind of gave her back a look and proceeded to ride gently past her on her left. She then yells at me (!!) that she ‘wouldn’t know I was there if I didn’t say something!’ I admit I yelled back, telling her to look before she rode out into the road (see “chip” above).

Second, got to the stop light at the end of the cul-de-sac, red light, so I stopped and waited for the green to go across. Couple walking down the street walks up to the corner, looks up at the cross-walk light as it turns into a red hand (i.e., “don’t cross”) and then they proceeded to walk in front of me. I went behind them and yelled, “Thanks for following the cross walk light!” (see “chip” above).

Third, I get across the intersection into another cul-de-sac, where at the end I’ll pop across a driveway and down onto the road on the other side. Get to the end of the cul-de-sac, watch a truck pull out directly in front of me, then stop right in front of the driveway I needed to ride up. Had enough room, barely, to get by without hitting his car, but once again yelled, no expletives (miraculously), but I think it was something to the effect of ‘look where you’re going!’

Morons.

Rest of the commute was blessedly quiet, but this was definitely a weird morning.

I was reminded tonight of how much easier cooking can be with a well-stocked kitchen. Well-stocked with equipment, that is.

When I remember that I have it, having a garlic press is so much easier than trying to mince that stuff by hand. The immersion blender was one of the better things I’ve talked the hubby into getting “for himself”. But, in my defense, he’s the one who doesn’t like chunky marinara, so while I’m the one using it, it’s for his benefit.

The right size pots, good cutting boards and knives, all good stuff. The stove is too small (20″ – one large burner and three small ones), but I make due. At least it works, unlike the one I replaced (the original stove from the early 1960s – it was hard wired into the wall).

The marinara was fantastic. As always, it was different from any other marinara I’ve made, because I never follow a set recipe. I borrow from sauce recipes, but I no longer follow them slavishly. A teaspoon of this, a tablespoon of that. Balsamic vinegar this time, red wine that time. A touch of tomato paste or a whole 6oz can. Thankfully I made enough to freeze several batches, so we’ll enjoy this one later, too.

This was a good way of distracting myself from the shutdown insanity gripping DC. I’m in the middle of it at work, as usual, a casualty of my main legal specialty. I’ll be working all week regardless of what Congress does, but it’s stressful stuff. So a good night of creativity through cooking in a well stocked kitchen was a nice respite.

On the eve of my wedding:

“I don’t mind that you couldn’t come. I do mind that you couldn’t tell me that you couldn’t or wouldn’t come. I understand if you had previous plans that you couldn’t (or wouldn’t) cancel, but to not even be able to bother to tell me that you wouldn’t be able to come to my wedding was a real kick in the balls. I did think that we had a slightly better relationship than that, though I suppose the lack of regular interaction killed that. I wouldn’t have minded even the simple, ‘No, I’m sorry, I can’t come.’ But to just ignore me entirely, even after receiving a ‘save the date’ and an invitation in the mail and reminders over electronic media, which I know you read because the read receipt told me that you read them, was beyond rude. So, I suppose we are at an end. And I mourn that loss, even as I begin the next chapter in my life. I’ll miss you tomorrow, but it’s time to move on.”

I’m flattered by the number of friends who think I run fast enough to qualify for the Boston marathon. Not even close here, but I appreciate the sentiment. I’m safe, trust me.

That said, the boy’s sister was running it for charity. His family lives in the greater Boston area, and his parents were expected to be at the VIP seating near the second bomb. Thankfully they stopped, earlier, at another spot on the route where they found a better view, so none of them was hurt. My future sister-in-law was still out on the route, and got pulled before she could finish, based on the security concerns.

My first thoughts, after comforting the boy, was how we’d need to marry early, to make it official, so we could take care of his (soon ‘our’) niece. And while I’m happy we don’t have to do the legal shit earlier than the ceremony in late May, it was still scary as all hell to contemplate that his ENTIRE family would be out at something and be killed. Given his sister’s wishes we’d still have gotten his niece to raise, but the lack of legal protections scares this lawyer.

Also annoying is our utter inability to help with blood donations. Despite having a safe profile, despite testing consistently negative for communicable diseases, I can’t donate, because I’ve “had sex with another man since” the year I turned 5. Not before I was legal, but, y’know, the FDA rules don’t make rational sense, they just fuel prejudice rather than public health purposes. So, yeah, I’m gonna make this political; fuck you, FDA, and your stupid rules, and how dare you prevent me from helping my fellow citizens when they need it.

We were in the low 50s two days ago, had 70 today, and will be in the mid-80s by Tuesday. I forget where the comic was that showed DC weather being winter-winter-winter then 12-hours-of-spring then blazing-summer-heat, but it’s definitely the case this year. Not that I’m complaining about warmer weather, but it’s so typical that we don’t get a spring before we go to summer. Love it.

It’s been hard for me to stay motivated with triathlon stuff. Commuting between my place and the boy’s place had put a definite damper on it, as has his work schedule (he has to go to meetings for work that are well after what I would consider my optimum ‘go to bed’ time). College students suck – if you want to participate in things on campus, do them at normal hours like a real adult, not at 10+ at night, ‘you hosers’. I’d happily smack the lot of them upside the head and welcome them to real life. And naps.

Nonetheless, I need to do more, after straining my mid-back TWICE this past week. Ugh. So there’s been a lot of soul searching re: what do I want to do with my training. And, you know, making my body worth more in the sack. Getting married and all that. Wanting to perform better. Yeah. ‘Nuff said.

I found another reason to haul out my porta-sling: it makes a nice pull-up bar.

I know I’ve said it elsewhere, but I don’t think I’ve said it here: there is little better than homemade mayonnaise. And once you’ve made it at home, why would you ever buy the commercial stuff? That has to be one of the more exciting recent food discoveries. Turns into a nice salad dressing, too.

Also, as I’ve been cooking in the boy’s place I’ve realized how incredibly spoiled I am in my own kitchen, because I’ve had time to slowly build up a good collection of kitchen equipment, giving me a greater range of things that I can prep/make (like the aforementioned mayonnaise – the food processor is key there, though a blender can work, too). Another reason why I look forward to combining our households, so I can cook more for us.

My recent cookbook reading has been Paleo-based, which I’ve been enjoying. No (or minimal) dairy, which is good for lactose-intolerant me. Lots of veggies, also good. And not afraid of full-fat meals, which is a lot tastier than a lot of stuff. Not exactly ‘the two fat ladies’ level, but some good stuff. And the boy hasn’t complained about most of it, which is also a plus. He’s pickier to feed than I am, his diet is fairly bland, so finding stuff he’ll eat has been a challenge. Trying a shepherd’s pie tonight, we’ll see how that goes, though his text response to the suggestion was excited, so I’m thinking it’ll be a win.

The only really fun part has been that it avoids wheat in its entirety, which isn’t the easiest, or even the tastiest. But I have found when I avoid wheat products my digestive system seems to be quieter than not. Annoying, that, since, well, bread & noodles are delicious. But perhaps not the best for my gut. Not allergic to it, was tested on that back in November, but I definitely feel better after I haven’t eaten it for a while.

The combination of stuff is going better now. We added several new bookshelves, and are gradually moving his books over, bag by bag. Also in the process of converting an old, large bookshelf into large dressers. Yay convertible Ikea furniture. It’s gonna be cramped, but it’s doable. And it’s getting better than the last entry when I was going nuts. Still haven’t found the yoga strap, though.

Injured my back twice this week, once while biking and once while lifting a large water bottle for the office water cooler. Not the lower back, strangely, but the mid-back, lower ribs, on the outer back. Guess it’s past time for more strength training. Phhhbbbbttt! Letting it recover a bit, then will work on strengthening the area. Past that, training has been almost non-existent, again. Commuting and his work schedule are completely non-supportive of doing any training. Blech. I may still be able to do the tri in May, but the half marathon in March is out at this point. Ugh. I hate wasting the money on the race fees, not to mention the loss of health and weight gain. Another thing to look forward to when he moves in – no more driving across town twice a day, and time to exercise.