Big Plans

Over the past few weeks, I've come to take distance walking a little more seriously.  With last Saturday's trek to Evanston under my belt, my confidence in going the distance has been bolstered significantly.

 

So I've decided to up the ante.  This weekend, I'm walking two towns north, to Wilmette - a good 10 miles from my apartment.  My plan is to take the L as far north as it goes, to the Linden stop on the Purple Line.  Then I'm going to head east toward the lake, check out the stunning Baha'i Temple on foot, and head back south for a 3.5 hour walk back home.

 

 

Baha'i Temple, Wilmette, IL - Google It.

 

What's more, I plan to keep edging my way north throughout the fall, hoping to at least pop-in on my aunt and uncle in Glencoe, 15 miles away.  I have this crazy desire to walk to the Wisconsin state line - 44 miles, estimated walking time 14.5 hours.

 

Is this crazy?  I don't know...I've been wanting to go distance hiking for a few years now, especially on the Appalachian Trail that runs from Maine to Georgia.  I will probably never be able to do it all at once, but it would be neat to hike sections of it during my vacations.

 

We'll see how this goes.

 

This weekend I'm getting all kinds of treats for myself:  new athletic shoes (and I'm not going to settle for any size twelve - I want one to fit my specifications and needs!) and a new haircut at Streets of London Salon.  It comes highly recommended on yelp.com, and I get a 30% discount for mentioning yelp when I made my appointment.  Yay!  Cost-cutter!  My plan is to let them give me a hip new cut that's still says "I'm Laura, and I'm romantic and virginal, professional yet hip and with it, but never a cat lady."  I think they can get it down.  And the place is run by actual Londoners!  An accented guy took my appointment!  Squeeeee!  I'mma be Euro-in this bitch up!

 

So there's that,

 

Laura

Tastes Like Burning

Starbucks? It's over.

It was fun dropping $3-5 a day on you while it lasted, but I just can't do this anymore.

Your blended treats are too caloric, and I just don't trust that your Caramel Light Frap is actually "light." Oh how they tempt me on a warm summer's day; with no milkshakes or smoothies around for several blocks, yours is my go-to slurp factory.

No more.

Your breads are oily, your cookies dry, your pastries unimaginative. They're not your main focus, and it shows. Keep them from my sights. Even the lemon bars I've loved so dearly for so long are dead on my palate.

Never again.

Your coffee is harsh. Acidic. Too much of the burned urn flavor for something so pricey. The iced coffee I sipped on this afternoon left the taste of tobacco in my mouth. It took me years to realize this, and now that I finally have? I feel used. Filthy. All the scalding hot showers in the world can't rid me of this shame.

Get me a rape kit.

Starbucks? I will always enjoy the occasional trips with my coworkers, always have fond memories of the money I spent on you, but I will show restraint in the future. Or until winter comes and I crave some creamy hot chai.

Until then, work on that coffee thing. It's not the best.

So there's that,

Laura

A Gloppy Day

Did you ever just have one of those days where no matter what you do, you still can't feel good about yourself? This happens to me on days when my morning doesn't start off right, like when I opt to wake up late, or make a lasting wardrobe mistake.

I did both this morning, the most haunting of which is to pair long brown, flowy pants with a brown knit top. I put a sparkly necklace on to doll it up, but it's no use painting this turd of an outfit. When I sit at my desk with bad posture or see my back fat in the mirror, I feel like Gloppy the Chocolate Monster from CandyLand.

Srsly. I am not feeling the sparkle today.

So there's that,

Laura

...To Another Town!

I took my long walk on Saturday out of the city.

That's right. I walked to another town altogether - Evanston.


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Whew! It was amazing!

It only added up to about 7.6 miles, but that's much longer than my normal 4.5-5 mile trek to downtown. It was a breezy walk along the lakefront, too...a beautiful day for a walk.

I departed my apartment at 3:30 pm on Saturday, and by the time I got on the train to head back home, it was 7:00 pm. I stopped for a little grocery shopping before going to the train, so I guess the trip took about 3 hours.

I barely had anything to eat before the walk: about 300 calories worth of frozen pancakes, coffee and Activia. I lazed around in bed until 1:00 pm, so I opted for a late breakfast because coffee always gets my motor running. By the time I got back to town, I wasn't feeling any hunger, but I knew I should eat. I opted for some roasted chicken, garlic bread, slaw and fries from a nearby gyros stand. Then I got home and mowed that shit down in less than 20 minutes - I was HONGRY!

I went to bed later that night with a bolus of food lodged uncomfortably in my digestive organs, and slept until 4 pm the next day. I guess it was a form of hibernation.

Anyway, I'm super proud of this "walking to another town" accomplishment. Hopefully I can traverse progressively farther north as long as the weather permits.

So there's that,

Laura

I'd Know That Pepperidge Farms Cake Anywhere

Seriously?  You need to find a quiet space away from the kids and Google "cake farts" when you're home tonight.  It is NOT SAFE FOR WORK.  Watch the video.  It looks like it will be wildly pornographic, but it's not that bad.  It's not the "2 girls 1 cup" I thought it would be.  But I got the best laugh in weeks from watching this last night.  It's utterly ridiculous.

 

And guess what?  It's a Pepperidge Farms frozen cake, and I think it's kind of sad that that's the first thing that struck me about the video.  I'm a big fan of their coconut cake.

 

Seriously, keep the kids away.  Seriously.  But seriously?  You need to watch this before you die.

 

So there's that,

 

Laura

Recipe: Hot Beef Injection

If there's something you should know about me, it's that I love horseradish.  Love it.  When I make oven fries at home, I add horseradish to ketchup for a cocktail-saucy zing.  I keep wasabi paste on hand anytime I want my food to have Asian zip.  When I'm stuffed up, I eat wasabi peas by the handful to clear my sinuses.  I love heat, I love horseradish.

 

I've been on a sandwich kick for the past few weeks.  It started when I bought a loaf of high fiber bread and vowed to myself that I will eat a sandwich every day to get rid of the stuff.  I usually can't eat bread fast enough and it goes to waste.  So for the first time in years, I packed myself some sandwiches for lunch.  The following is my favorite.

 

Hot Beef Injection

Serves 1

 

1 Weight Watchers Bagel (or your favorite bread)

1 slice Horseradish Cheddar (I got this from the grocery's deli.  I think my brand is Hoffman's but I've seen it under the Boar's Head brand.  Muenster works too.)

1-2 oz thinly sliced roast beef

1-2 slices tomato

1 Tbsp Kraft Horseradish Sauce (It's in the condiment section, looks like mayo.)

 

Place the cheese on the bottom of the bun, meat on top of cheese, and tomatoes on meat.  Spread top of bun with horseradish sauce, place on top of sandwich, and wrap the whole thing tightly in saran wrap. 

 

I know you know how to make a sandwich, but the placement of cheese and sauce is crucial to me, especially if you're not going to eat it right away, and especially if you're using a bagel.  The cheese covers the bagel hole and prevents the bread from getting soggy.  The sauce protects the top half of bread/bagel from the tomato's moisture.  When you wrap it tightly, then the tomato juice can't run everywhere and leave you with a soggy mess the next day.  Trust me - I made tortilla wraps one day last week, put them in a Ziploc bag, and by the time I pulled them out for lunch the next day they were AWFUL.  Dripping wet on the outside.  Bleh.  I ended up trashing everything and going to Subway.  God bless plastic wrap.

 

Don't you deserve a Hot Beef Injection today?

 

So there's that,

 

Laura

No Good Deed

A few weeks ago, I hopped onto the empty 145 bus and before sidling into my usual seat in the back, and I noticed a set of keys on it. Then between the seat and the wall, there was a big shiny Blackberry.

I could have given the keys and the phone to the bus driver right then, since the bus was nigh empty, but I decided to hold on to them. I figured if I were to lose such precious things on a bus, the last thing I would want is to get them lost in the bureaucracy of the CTA lost and found. I've seen news stories about the loads of lost items that are never claimed; I wasn't about to let some person's stuff become statistics.

And I wanted a project.

It was a Friday morning, and I'm notoriously restless on Fridays. I thought it would be a good to break up the workaday monotony by doing some sleuthing. And I kind of wanted to play with this Blackberry - see what the fuss was about. Now I didn't want to play play with it; I just hoped that in doing so, I would find the owner, or a good contact with whom to start the search.

Suck. The keypad was locked. No fun for me there.

The only clues this phone offered was on the home screen: A long Indian name (I'll call him Mr. Suresh), three initials, and the word "Chicago." I did a Google search for the initials and Chicago, and came up with a load of different companies. Instead of giving up, I used the power of critical thinking: I pulled up a map showing all the listings and looked for the ones that were on the bus route.

God I love Google Maps!

One of the companies was a consulting firm in the suburbs, though, so I figured the phone might belong to a consultant who was working downtown. I called there first, if only to rule it out. No such person worked there.

Then I called the places that were closest to my office, and I crossed my fingers hoping I wouldn't have to travel across town to do my good deed. Hey - I'm not completely selfless.

Those numbers were dead, so I went with the last option - an office in the Sears Tower that wasn't necessarily far, but it would be a complicated trek during the workday. Turns out Mr. Suresh did work there, and he didn't even realize his phone was lost; he thought he just left it at home.

I found all this out through his assistant. After everything was cleared up, I said, "Well, how can I get this to you?" She didn't pose any solution, so I too eagerly offered to bring it over on my lunch break. I kind of hoped she'd say, "Oh no, dear soul, we'll send a messenger for it. Don't you go through the trouble."

Instead she said, "Okay. Just have the front desk call me when you get here." Click.

Goddamnit. Now I had to go down there. She didn't have my phone number; I could have just thrown the phone away and had a real lunch break. I could have worked out. I could have eaten at Pompeii. Goddamnit. Why am I such good fucking person?

So I had 45 minutes to get a bus to downtown and back. I was broke, so I couldn't cab it. I tried to catch the 151, but it was taking too long. I walked a couple blocks to the Clark bus, but that was taking too long. Then I raced across LaSalle to get the 156. And I was drenched by the humidity.

I got down to Sears Tower and tried to look my best. If you don't know it by now, I have a BIG THING for Indian men. So yeah, I had an ulterior motive. Maybe Mr. Suresh would get a look at me and know we were meant to be together, brought together by fate and Blackberries.

After a few minutes of waiting in the lobby, Mr. Suresh came down himself to retrieve the phone. And he was CUTE! Sigh! I was a little dumbstruck, and I bumblingly told him that I found the phone in the back of the bus, but couldn't give it to the driver because it was so crowded (lie). He asked if I found his keys, too, and I shuffled through my purse, having forgotten all the about them. Sigh! He asked for my email address (squee!), so I gave him my card, and with a handshake and a thank you, we went our separate ways.

Afterward, I felt like the day after a one-night stand: exhilarated and used.

I came all this motherfucking way to give this motherfucker his phone, his motherfucking life in a basket, and all I get is a handshake and an awkward goodbye? Y'ain't even gonna make me breakfast? Fuck you, guy! Oh I think I love him.

Since I gave him my business card, I hoped to hear from him. Two weeks passed with nothing.

Then on Monday morning, I get an email from Macy's...with a $100 gift certificate from Mr. Suresh.

Hells YES!

Mother Teresa was right, it pays to be selfless. She should know; girlfriend cornered the Indian market

So there's that,

Laura