Conversation With Emily #7812

This afternoon when I got home from work, Emily alerted me to the fact that we were out of toilet paper. I have been married long enough to know that this was not a conversation starter or a statement of fact, but an indirect request for me to go to the store and buy some toilet paper.

So I grabbed the keys, let the dog know he was going for a ride with me to the store and was halfway down the stairs to leave when Emily stopped me.

Emily Wait. You know you need to buy a certain kind right?

Me Oh yeah I forgot. You're protesting the bears right (Editors note: I actually had forgotten Emily has specific toilet paper requests. Good thing she reminded me, or I would have ended up buying a Hannah Montana spiral notebook because it was on sale: two notebooks for 99 cents. I'd figure we could use the notebook paper as toilet paper).

Emily It has to be Cottenelle, the one with the puppy on it. No bears shitting in woods or bitches who cross stitch.

I have no idea what "the bitches who cross stitch" reference is all about, but I knew I had better come back with some toilet paper with a puppy on the wrapper. So I came back with mixed news: somewhere during the course of the evening I had to let had Cottenelle, but only in four packs.

Emily But they had jumbo packs of the other brands?

Me Yup.

Emily Well they must have been sold out of the big packs of Cottenelle because it's so popular.

I should add that she made this statement as if it is one of God's truths.

And what I love is how this was perfectly logical to Emily. It is assumed everyone who shops at the Walgreen's on 46th and Hiawatha in the Longfellow neighborhbood of Minneapolis adheres to the "Don't Buy Toilet Paper With Wrappers Depicting Bears or Bitches Who Cross Stitch" rule. As if it's a widely taught bathroom rule, right up there with "If it's yellow let it mellow" and "Knock before entering a Port-A-Potty."

Gone Fishin Part I

Between the July 4th weekend and last night, Emily and I have made three trips. First, over the July 4th weekend, we went to Emily's family cabin near Hancock, Wisconsin.

Never heard of Hancock? I hope not. There's nothing to do there but farm. Or hang out at a cabin on some land near Hancock that your wife's family farmed over 100 years ago. I chose the latter.

We went with our friends Zander and Julie. We were also graced by the company of Emily's sister and husband and their two sons.

There was a perfect storm of photography mayhem the night of the 4th. My brother-in-law just happens to be Minnesota's best photographer and the light was perfect for taking pictures, at least according to the Mr. Minnesota of Photography.

So while we played with whiffle balls, Ben played with his camera.



Well, we humans played whiffle ball. Pancho chased a tennis ball.



Julie has also uploaded some more of Ben's photos on her blog. Click here to see them. Ben is such a good photographer that it is worth your time, even if you have no idea who Zander and Julie are.

Top Five Things I Learned During Trip #1
5. It is legal to shoot off pretty much any kind of firework in Wisconsin.
4. Pancho is terrified of most of these fireworks. Especially ones that look and sound like professional fireworks. And are fired off non-stop for 45 minutes. Less than 500 feet from our beachfront.
3. The one place Pancho feels safest when he's away from home is the backseat of my car. Actually I already knew this. But what I didn't know is he sheds like crazy when terrified.



2. Zander and Julie love s'mores as much as Ben loves building a bonfire as tall as he is. In fact Zander and Julie love s'mores so much, they will make them even while the fire is taller then Ben. Ben is taller than I am, meaning that was one tall, hot fire Zander and Julie broiled their s'mores in.
1. Leinenkugel's makes a summer shandy, which I liked a lot more than the self-proclaimed experts (snobs?) at Beer Advocate. Of course those guys have some sort of a grading rubric with its own language.

Here's my rubric for scoring a beer:
Does it go down singing hymns?
If the answer is YES, drink more.
If the answer is NO. Finish the beer anyway and do not order or buy it again.

I found Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy went down signing hymns. Some people less secure in their masculinity may slap the "girlie" label on this beer, but I don't care. I am comfortable enough to hold a bottle of it next to me. It's not like it's a Zima or something.

Coming Soon: Our trip to California.

All Is Quiet On the South Minneapolis Front

Emily and I had a very active weekend. Friday she returned from Chicago and three hours later we were on our way to a wedding at Mill City Museum, where we had our own wedding reception almost five years ago.

Last night we went bowling at Memory Lanes with her sister and her family and then went to pretty funny improv show at Brave New Workshop.

But now our life is back to the pace that I prefer. We watched the Twins game this afternoon at Emily's aunt's house. At least once a summer we make a point of going to her house to watch a game OUTSIDE on her TV, while other people paid money to go into the Metrodome to watch the game. And the weather was awesome today, so it couldn't have been better.

But what post is meant to be about is s p a c e.

Normally, I get in bed after Emily and out of bed in the morning before her. So I covet the rare times I have the bed all to myself. What I found while she was gone for so long is that this is really overrated. Sure, it's great to stretch out and have the bed all to myself for five minutes, but then the novelty of that wears off and then I'm just a lonely dude hanging out in a bed by himself. It's kind of boring.

But I also leaned one aspect of bachelorhood that is decidedly underrated, in terms of space. Emily had her parked at work while she was in Chicago. So I had the garage all to myself. Of course, if I just sat in my car for five minutes, I would be even more bored than when I am laying in bed all by myself, so maybe the I just never stayed in the garage long enough for the novelty to wear off.

Regardless, man was that luxiorious having the garage all to myself. No more tight turns to fit my car in, or having to go back into to reverse to get my lined up how I like it. Keep in mind I am always the first to leave for work and we drive my car when we go places, so it is rare when I use the car without Emily's car already in the garage.

No siree, it was like having an eight line highway all to yourself. One one night I parked the car right down the middle. That was satisfying. Another night I parked my car on Emily's side and put my bike in my parking space.

All that space... made me feel like my garage was a McMansion.

Of course I'm glad Emily is back, even if the garage has a clausterphobia vibe once again.

Bachelor Party

Emily has gone off and got her one of them booklearning degrees and an important job. As a result she travels a lot for work. She was gone from Monday to Friday last week and left today for another work trip and won't get back until Friday.

Needless to say I miss her. So does Pancho. I think the cats even miss her, the same way I missed bugging my older sisters when I was a bored eight year-old.

But I am proud of myself on several fronts. The house is still standing up. I washed the dishes tonight and cooked a meal for myself that included vegetables. I still get out and exercise. I even ran a pretty tough workout tonight. Two back to back sets of something I call the Texas Fartlek. I could tell you what it is, but then you would know my trade secrets. You know the secrets that allow me to run with no shirt or shame, but with a beer belly, pale skin, and a bald head. The Texas Fartlek kills your pride.

What is crazy is before Emily and I got married I was cooking all the time, mostly vegetarian. Lots of beans, rice, and salad. I ran pretty reglularly all by myself. I didn't need races or friends to help me along. Maybe I wasn't running as much, but when I did, I just ran for the hell of it.

Perhaps it was a matter of survival. Review the summary of my week last week. If I lived this way on a regular basis for the past ten years, my heart would have given up on me sometime between some pick-up baskteball game I played two years ago and this morning when I ran up the stairs at work.

Sunday Dropped Emily off at the airport. Went home and watched the Twins on TV with a can of Coke. Then biked over to my friends house where he grilled brats and burgers for dinner. I drank two or three of his beers and gave him a PBR and beef jerkey for Father's Day. His wife also served some salads she bought at Lund's. I was in bed by 11:00 p.m. This ended up being my healthiest night of the bachelor week.

Monday I went to the grocery store and bought fruit, believe it or not. Then I went for a short run, came home and finally got around to eating around 9 p.m. I had some of those salt and pepper chips I blogged about earlier for an appetizer and then an entire frozen pizza as my entree. Oh yeah, and a can of PBR. I stayed up past 11:00 watching the first 70 minutes of Once Upon A Time In America.

Tuesday Fancy Kirk and I ran a somewhat hard workout followed by Jucy Lucys at Shamrock's on W. 7th in St. Paul. We had two beers while watching the Celtics/Lakers game. We knew a third beer would park us on our ass. So I went home and watched the next 70 minutes of Once Upon A Time In America. I had some more of those salt and pepper chips and was glad I am too lazy to go the garage fridge once the movie is on. Otherwise that third beer would have been pretty tempting. I then read unitl about midnight.

Wednesday I had a Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon meeting. I drank a Coke and had three slices of pizza. This would end up being an appetizer (read on). No Handle Chad was at the meeting and chastised me for not blogging. I came home and it was too late to run. But it wasn't too late to walk the dog, eat another frozen pizza, and stay up past 11:00 finishing Once Upon A Time In America and watch some of the special features. Two beers were also involved.

Thursday I don't work Fridays, so I was out until 1 a.m. and in bed at 2 a.m. I went to The Hexagon Bar with my friend where I took in four bands and three beers. I actually had a healthy risotto primavera at the Birchwood Cafe, but this all has to be offset by how late I was up. I did get a run in and rode my bike to The Hexagon and Birchwood. When I got back home around 1:30 a.m. I polished off those salt and pepper potato chips.

One week does not an unhealthy life make. And I know there is no way I could lived like this for more than maybe ten days.

But this summary does answer my question, as to why I used to be on such regular good behavior before I got married. I didn't have a choice. I think left to my own devices I would find my feet again. But as unpracticed bachelor, I flail around a bit and end up eating potato chips at 1:30 in the morning. But this week has gotten off to a better start than last week.

For example, it is time for bed.

Back In The Saddle

I went out for my quarterly sortie to Matt's Bar for Jucy Lucys with, among others, Fancy Kirk, Awalt, Los Deets, and Mrs. Los Deets.

I do not know if Los Deets will post a field report on his Jucy Lucy website, but I do know this: the waitress was the most organized and, dare I say, regimented server that restaurant has ever seen.

Anyway, Mrs. Los Deets scolded me for not blogging anymore. And I know she loves lists. So I thought I'd get back into the blogosphere with what's new. I have a new...

1. Favorite Restaurant Brasa has a simple menu and really good food. A great summer spot. Ride your bike there and then you can head over to St. Anthony Main for a nightcap. It looks like I have the next date night planned for Emily and me.

2. Favorite Bar The Hexagon Bar. Great live music that is usually free. Cheap beer. Half the bar is for the music; the other half is quiet enough to socialize. It has a mix of quasi-hipsters, locals, and aging lamies like me. It's like a cheap First Ave without the scene.

3. Netflix Series Emily and are caught up on Weeds (well maybe not, season three might be out now) and are now making our way through Entourage It's like Sex and the City for guys. But so far Emily has been watching it with me.

4. Favorite Twin Carlos Gomez. The Strib ran a story last week about how he was scared of a ghost in his hotel room. He sometimes tries to steal third for no appearant reason. He can outrun a comebacker to the pitcher (okay I exaggerated on that one). What's not to like?

5. Training Plan I will train for both the 5k and the marathon for the rest of the year. Is such madness possible? I will tell you after my first injury. I pretty much knew after my last race in college I'd never run that fast again, much less break 15:00. I knew I was too lazy to keep training that hard. But I always figured I could hop off the couch and break 16:00 until I was like 70 years old. Obviously I was an idiot back then; but I would like to break the 16:00 barrier one last time (I ran a 16:20 a few weeks back). I'll focus on a marathon goal after the Victory 5k in September.

6. Favorite Snack Kettle Salt and Fresh Ground Pepper Chips. A friend of mine introduced them to me last week. I have eaten an entire bag since then and I am still wanting more. Damn those sons of bitches at Kettle make good chips.

7. Hobby Biking everywhere. The same friend who got me hooked on those chips, got me hooked on biking everywhere. On Saturday I a) ran 18 miles through Afton State Park with Fancy Kirk and Grizzly Christ, b) worked in the yard for three hours, and c) biked to Dominguez with Emily. So I was pretty tired, but we had a summer solstice party to go to. We were both thinking we didn't want to go, due to fatigue. But as we rode our bikes there, we got so energized.

8. Favorite Day of the Year Summer Solstice in Minnesota just beat out Thanksgiving. We went to that party, which was a summer solstice patio party with awesome food and great beer, and last night we had a our solstice meeting at Matt's. It's like two Thanksgivings without the turkey.

9. Horrible Idea A Jucy Lucy turkey for Thanksgiving. Instead of stuffing, inject the bird with cheddar.

10. Blog to Read Coincidentally, it's all about one lady's quest to do new things. Check it for yourself. I have know Maureen since college, so I know a lot of things she's already done and therefore can't count them as new things. You know, things like "watch Mike shotgun a can of Busch Lite" or "chant ' PARTY! PARTY! PAR...' with a bunch of idiots." That would describe the four years she had to come across me in college.

He'll Be Missed

There are a lot George Carlin routines that I love. His pacing and timing was as brilliant, if not more brilliant, than his content. His baseball vs. football routine is my all-time favorite, and somehow it is actually safe for work.

The Ends Justify the Means

This afternoon I got an e-mail from Emily while I was at work suggesting we go out to dinner tonight and then to IKEA to shop for new deck furniture. Knowing my distaste for shopping, she knew the best way to woo me into this errand was to agree to eat at Dominguez Family Restaurant.

I loooooooooooooove Dominguez! But man was it crowded tonight. Maybe it was all the white people in Noko (downtown East Nokomis neighborhood) who wanted to celebrate Cinco de Mayo, even though they weren't sure what is was all about. Or maybe it's because because DOMINGUEZ JUST GOT AWARDED BEST TACOS IN THE TWIN CITIES!!! (open letter to The Harvest Moon Lover: Those all caps were for you).

So instead, we decided to go eat at Al Vento, across the street.

We struck gold, as bottles of wine are 1/2 on Mondays at Al Vento (as it seems is the case in most nice Minneapolis restaurants). So we drank a few glasses with our dinner (which was awesome) and they recorked the bottle and let us take the rest home.

Emily and I had a great time during dinner even as we scolded ourselves for never straying from routine and therefore only eating at Al Vento once in the past. Sure, Netflix, Parkway Pizza, and Longfellow Grill are great, but we have been missing out.

During the course of dinner, I spilled marinara sauce on my shirt and Emily got olive oil on hers. So we decided to skip IKEA and go back home so we could put stain stick on our clothes. Live it up yall!

But we REALLY want new deck furniture for nights like tonight when the weather in awesome. So do we regret how off track our plans went?

Not one bit. Emily said, "We can always have a picnic on the deck tomorrow night if the weather is good." I don't know if tonight can be called a perfect night. But for a Monday, it was pretty awesome.

Boston Roll Call

My blood blister burst over the weekend. I am still sore but was able to get two runs in this weekend. Pancho is calming down from his separation anxiety. And like most of us, I have to a five day work week coming up. In other words, the dust from the Boston Marathon has finally settled. My summary is in the post below. For more stories...

Nasty Nate summarizes his race. Open letter to the Nasty Man: you are too hard on yourself. I think we all tend to second-guess ourselves after a race. Outside of the winner, all runners tend to analyze and deconstruct their race. We find things we did wrong or wish we did differently more than we celebrate what we did right. Bottom line: you ran a fine race.

I for one am already wondering what would have happened if I had been more aggressive after the first three miles.

So I admire Nathan's race in that he ran aggressively yet intelligently, compared to my "hedging my bets" style of running.

Awalt has a nice recap of how connected we feel to those who follow us from afar and some nice tidbits that explain why Boston is such a special occasion. And I agree, there is something emotional about crossing the checkpoint mat every 5k. You'd here the mat beep and you know your split time was being posted on the web for all your family and friends to see. I felt suddenly connected to my running friends here, Emily, and my family in Texas every time I heard that beep.

No Handle Chad summarizes his race here, talks about what makes the Boston crowd special here, and highlights the women's' trials and, well ME (sort of) here.

Fancy Kirk deconstructs his 2:55 and ends up feeling just as happy with his time as I did mine. Open letter to Fancy Kirk: your take that Boston is essentially for the 40+ year-old marathoner with disposable time and income is a good one.

Tall Colin has some pictures of me, Mr. Nasty, and Mr. Fancy, along with a story of why the Boston crowds are different than any other. A good read for sure.