faux adrenaline

i don't think i've mentioned it yet, but coffeeshopgirl and i are training for the ING half marathon at the end of march. last weekend we ran 6 miles in the snow (one of only 2 times that we've seen snow in 12 months of living here). yesterday we clocked 7 miles, and i spent the remainder of the day in a runner's stupor. i keep hearing this irksome "runner's high" phrase, and i just don't get it. i feel like i'm missing the sailboat in a magic eye puzzle. i can tell you how high it feels as if my body was dropped after finishing 7 miles, but i have yet to experience any so called rush. don't get me wrong, i thoroughly enjoy running, and i'm excited to continue tacking on mileage. there was a span of about 2 years where i physically couldn't run because of a chronic leg injury (induced by my last marathon effort, which is why a half will do just fine, thanks). being able to run 90 minutes and not head straight for the ice packs is fantastic. having said that, i still want to throw my shoes at anyone who mentions this adrenaline fest, much like i want to throw my coffee at cheerful morning people. luckily for them, it would be a waste of good coffee.

last week's resume frenzy has officially been validated. i have an interview on Thursday for a position that requires a vocabulary test, which of course sent me scrambling for my old GRE books. i'm worried about my "professional" appearance (i'm not sure facial piercings and a faux hawk count as tasteful), but if they don't approve, i'll take my 10-cent words elsewhere.

another frenzy of sorts took place last friday night, one that shall be known henceforth as the challah incident. about midweek, coffeeshopgirl got the urge to feed the world and bake challah bread for the occasion, so Thursday night she made the dough and braided the loaves (pictured here). by Friday afternoon, the dough had mutated into a shapeless oozing mass that spilled over the sides of the baking sheet. the rebraided versions came out larger than any challah i've ever seen, which is a good thing because the attendees managed to eat all but one end of the two loaves. forget what i said about a running stupor. challa coma is much more potent.

holy pajamas batman!

perusing other people's blogs on an hourly basis makes me feel up to date on my own, but i just realized it's been 14 days since my last post. that's two whole weeks that i've deprived you of my brain residue. how selfish of me.

a few recommendations from my absence:

Helvetica: if you get bored with the designer jargon, watch it mockumentary style and pretend you're on mystery science theater 3000
Juno: perfect combination of teenage angst and overblown vocabularies. michael cera is my awkward hero.
The Gum Thief: it didn't hold a candle to Microserfs, but it was worth the wait. (will write more in a separate post)

a very emphatic UN-recommendation:

Waitress: i'm not sure they could have crammed one more stereotype in this movie, even if they baked it into the pies.

things at work continue to be slow. i keep hearing about projects that are coming down the pipeline (oh how i detest office speak), but my brain and my wallet have shriveled to the size of a wolffia. so i've spent some of my spare computer time dredging through job listings (i say "spare" because i'm trying not to aggravate the pinched nerve that's already acting wonky). i even forced myself to start a cover letter this afternoon, which is a sure sign of desperation because i hate cover letters more than i hate drying tupperware lids.

the other major distraction of the week is my new camera. it makes me feel like a three year old running around in their dad's t-shirt, but i'm convinced that i can grow into it enough to at least stop tripping over the hem. this means taking zillions of pictures, much to coffeeshopgirl's chagrin. keep an eye on the flickr because there should be a steady flow of new material. my most willing and available subjects are of course the feline duo, so i don't want to hear any jokes about being a crazy cat lady.

mucinex, take me away

today i woke up to the sound of mourning doves. between that and the recent spring like temperatures, my meteorological mood indicator is confused. i don't know whether to hunker down for the january doldrums or embrace the weather's april disguise.

there's really no question, the weather has improved my mood (minus that whole global warming implication of doom). it has not, however, improved my state of mucus. if you prefer to avoid the bodily function conversations, you'd be wise to click your way out of this one. i've been sick for about a week now, with varying degrees of throat coating mucus misery. fortunately for me (and the people i share an office with), things at work have been slow. i even scored an unforeseen sick day last friday when the day's project was tabled because the co-worker i would have teamed up with was out sick as well. thanks to my easy going boss, i got an extra day of couch potato recovery and avoided being The Sniffler.

i shouldn't complain too much because my convalescence (mucalescence?) has given me some extra reading time. I've been in the mood for douglas coupland, so i picked up a copy of Eleanor Rigby on sunday while coffeeshopgirl got her weekly dose of trash reading at barnes & noble. Eleanor wasn't quite what i was looking for (hard to swallow plot line coated with tasty wit and quirky characters to make it all go down a bit easier), but it was a good filler before the main event arrived. I ordered The Gum Thief and Musicophilia right after christmas and thanks to a substitute mailman, i've been playing ring around the post office trying to chase down a package that was supposed to be delivered on the 3rd.

i know there are more important things going on in the world (like primary races and biggest loser premiers), but all i want to do is blow my nose and explore the culture of Staples minions through coupland's filter.

shoelaces with chili garlic sauce

i'm mouthbreathing again. i've done my fair share of this while hung over at work in a previous life, but i can't say there was any debauchery involved this time, unless you count the renegade sinus warriors that have set up camp in my face. one could even dare to call them sinusarriors, but i've made too many bad jokes for one day so i'll refrain. basically, i look like rudolph (blowing your nose does have consequences) and sound like barney rubble. food joy was lost sometime tuesday afternoon, along with my sense of smell. i know i ate chili for dinner because i cooked it myself, but if i'd been blindfolded i couldn't have told you the difference between my meal and a bowl of stewed packing peanuts.

luckily, all 5 senses were in tact for our new years eve potluck. it would have been a crime to miss out on elsabelle's coconut soup, jim's pad thai, and connie's amazing strawberry goat cheese "pie."

the same goes for our week of christmas hopscotch. i don't think i could have survived the constant packing and repacking without the flavors of peppermint bark or my mom's macaroni & cheese. can you imagine eating lox without being able to taste it? i'm thinking partially crushed doorstep slugs.

overall it was a successful trip. i had coffee/lunch dates with a couple of friends that i haven't seen in months. there was much reading (and drawing for coffeeshopgirl) and, according to the waist imprint of my jeans, much eating. there were so many "christmases" that it began to feel customary to arrive at someone's house, commence to eating and eventually exchange gifts. in fact, when i go over to friends' houses now, i still can't shake the feeling that i should sneak into the bathroom and wrap something for the host/hostess to open after dinner. i'm hoping the urge will pass soon because the toilet paper and soapdish presents may get old quickly.