Today I did possibly the hardest ride of my life - the 7 Hills of Kirkland. And, I didn't even finish it. Five was the magic number on the rainiest day here in the last 2 months. First, there was Market Hill. I rode up it fast, it was a breeze. Natala was behind me and we were flying. That is, until we came to Juanita - the first point in the ride when I actually thought I might die. I got that heavy, hurtful feeling in my chest, like I really shouldn't be working this hard. I don't train for triathalons or any race for that matter. I like leisurely exercising (although I have to say that pushing it to the limit is totally exhilerating).
Third was Seminary Hill. I actually didn't really notice the climb because it was short and gradual. But then, then there was Norway. Not only was it long, but it was steep. And when I thought I'd arrived at the summit, that was only a teaser. Because I had another mile to go, with practically a straight vertical incline. At this point, yes, I really thought I was going to die. And the pinnacle of the climb was a lone jogger, who passed me about halfway up. That means I was likely going less than 6MPH. UGGH!
My last hill was Knightsbridge (or is that a tube stop in London?). I had to walk at this point and decided that the final two hills were not in the cards today. Afterwards, I found a cozy spot by the fire and waited for Natala, hard core athlete that she is, to finish her ride and Kelly, friend extraordinaire, to pick me up.
So will I do it again... probably. I can't turn down a challenge. Next time though, I'm doing the 6th Hill.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Saturday, May 19, 2007
The Toberator
He's quite possible the smartest dog ever. Check out these vids.
Toby Tricks 1
Toby Tricks 2
Toby & Cuba Wrestle to Hip-Hop
Toby Tricks 1
Toby Tricks 2
Toby & Cuba Wrestle to Hip-Hop
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Blind Date
Ok, so tonight I had probably the 3rd blind date of my life. He was a nice guy, recommended by my dear friend Match, but the chemistry just wasn't there.
A couple things came to light for me while spending an hour and fifteen minutes at Cafe Ladro this evening. First, you can't predict, write down, evaluate, or anticipate chemistry before you meet someone in person. You can't assume, want or beg for chemistry to happen. And you can't mistake a nice smile, good job, common chivalry or picking up the bill for chemistry.
Second, I'm totally closed off to people without relevance. I met this guy and he had no context, no relevance, to my life. Yea, I liked his resume, but that's irrelevant. There are a lot of guys out there who fit the bill for the must have's and must not have's. Relevance to my life is supreme. Kind of like when you do a search... if it's not relevant to your intent, then it is useless. Every single person I've ever dated I met through a friend, school, work, the name game, the neighborhood, an unlucky cancelled flight, a trip, a shared tent... the list goes on. We made it past date one, two and three because our relationship was relevant independantly to each of our lives.
The guy tonight didn't have a chance even before I ordered my peppermint tea. It's too bad because he's a nice guy and if I got to know him a little better, I would probably set him up with one of my friends. Because in that case, he would be completely relevant.
A couple things came to light for me while spending an hour and fifteen minutes at Cafe Ladro this evening. First, you can't predict, write down, evaluate, or anticipate chemistry before you meet someone in person. You can't assume, want or beg for chemistry to happen. And you can't mistake a nice smile, good job, common chivalry or picking up the bill for chemistry.
Second, I'm totally closed off to people without relevance. I met this guy and he had no context, no relevance, to my life. Yea, I liked his resume, but that's irrelevant. There are a lot of guys out there who fit the bill for the must have's and must not have's. Relevance to my life is supreme. Kind of like when you do a search... if it's not relevant to your intent, then it is useless. Every single person I've ever dated I met through a friend, school, work, the name game, the neighborhood, an unlucky cancelled flight, a trip, a shared tent... the list goes on. We made it past date one, two and three because our relationship was relevant independantly to each of our lives.
The guy tonight didn't have a chance even before I ordered my peppermint tea. It's too bad because he's a nice guy and if I got to know him a little better, I would probably set him up with one of my friends. Because in that case, he would be completely relevant.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
The essence of Toby
His personality stole my heart. His eyes make me smile. His affection continues to grow. I love Toby.
I never knew a dog could bring so much joy to my life. My dog is lovey and smart, protects like a doberman and cuddles like a bear. He's my man of the moment.
Yes, he's wearing a lampshade, post-neutering back in March.
More to come on Toby in the future. Cheers.
Friday, September 15, 2006
The Muller
This guy has the biggest balls ever. He's on a date. A date, yes, with a girl. Yet, he still manages to approach, converse and engage with my girlfriends and I while his date is waiting for him back at their table. Balls? God yes! Big huge ones. I've found most guys in Seattle to be unapproaching and shy. They'll look alright. Some will talk to you. Most will never ask for your number (that has to be my next post for sure).
So, 'The Muller' as he's now termed, has invited us to meet him next week at the same bar with a couple of his friends. I guess his date wasn't his girlfriend... or so I hope. It will be interesting. He's already called to find out what we're up to this weekend. Hmm. I guess that family reunion way out on the island was just a ploy to maintain a good boy next door standing. I'm looking forward to finding out what the Muller has to offer.
So, 'The Muller' as he's now termed, has invited us to meet him next week at the same bar with a couple of his friends. I guess his date wasn't his girlfriend... or so I hope. It will be interesting. He's already called to find out what we're up to this weekend. Hmm. I guess that family reunion way out on the island was just a ploy to maintain a good boy next door standing. I'm looking forward to finding out what the Muller has to offer.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Mememe
Just testing.
That's me. In London. With a drink in my hand as per usual. Note to all readers (the four of you that there are), drinking could be one of my favorite hobbies. Preferably red wine on a cold winter's night or a strong rum and diet when I'm out and about (I believe that is what I'm drinking in this photo).
Today is one of those days when I'm feeling good about life. Could be the several glasses of wine I've already imbibed this evening or the fact that tomorrow starts a two-week holiday. Life is good.
It feels like Sunday in New York
When I woke up and turned on the news this morning and learned that the TWU workers ended up striking last night at 3am, I was secretly jumping for joy. That is until I remembered that I failed to bring home my laptop last night. Hello long walk downtown. But as I emerged from my apartment on 9th Avenue, the street looked strange. I expected masses of people to be flooding up, down and crosstown. Yet, there were only a few lone pedestrians braving the cold and summing up the energy to make it to work just 5 days before Christmas. It really was like a Sunday morning in New York.... that is until I reached the parking lot that was the northbound West Side Highway.
60 minutes of a frigid walk gave me some time to ponder the strike itself. There are three pretty big sticking points:
1) TWU workers want a pay increase of 8% a year - WHAT? I don't even get an 8% increase a year and I have a master's degree!
2) The MTA wants the TWU workers to start contributing to healthcare - With the way healthcare costs are rising, EVERYONE has to contribute these days so I say suck it up.
3) The MTA wants to increase the retirement age from 55 to 62 - Hello, no one retires at 55 anymore - People live longer these days, get married later, have children later and have access to incredible preventative medicine. Case in point - my dad just retired at 67 and he gets healthier by the day!
And to note, points 2 and 3 are for NEW TWU workers - not the ones who are striking today. So they are losing their pay (and being fined for that matter) for folks who don't even work for the MTA yet. Silly? No, downright stupid.
But more than the inane demands set forth by the union, my problems lie with the fact that these workers provide a vital service to the function of the city. They are shutting down critical routes, putting first responders at risk of not being the first responders, depleting the city of something like $100 million a day in lost revenues and much more. What about the little old lady who has home-care and whose nurse cannot make it in to feed her? What about a fire that cannot be reached by firetrucks due to congestion on every street and avenue? And worse, what if people actually had to get out of the city quickly? It would be forced anarchy.
So, for today, I'm content to be sitting in a half-empty office. But I hope, for the sake of everyone else, that the strike is short and life soon goes back to normal.
And we all have a very Merry Christmas :)
60 minutes of a frigid walk gave me some time to ponder the strike itself. There are three pretty big sticking points:
1) TWU workers want a pay increase of 8% a year - WHAT? I don't even get an 8% increase a year and I have a master's degree!
2) The MTA wants the TWU workers to start contributing to healthcare - With the way healthcare costs are rising, EVERYONE has to contribute these days so I say suck it up.
3) The MTA wants to increase the retirement age from 55 to 62 - Hello, no one retires at 55 anymore - People live longer these days, get married later, have children later and have access to incredible preventative medicine. Case in point - my dad just retired at 67 and he gets healthier by the day!
And to note, points 2 and 3 are for NEW TWU workers - not the ones who are striking today. So they are losing their pay (and being fined for that matter) for folks who don't even work for the MTA yet. Silly? No, downright stupid.
But more than the inane demands set forth by the union, my problems lie with the fact that these workers provide a vital service to the function of the city. They are shutting down critical routes, putting first responders at risk of not being the first responders, depleting the city of something like $100 million a day in lost revenues and much more. What about the little old lady who has home-care and whose nurse cannot make it in to feed her? What about a fire that cannot be reached by firetrucks due to congestion on every street and avenue? And worse, what if people actually had to get out of the city quickly? It would be forced anarchy.
So, for today, I'm content to be sitting in a half-empty office. But I hope, for the sake of everyone else, that the strike is short and life soon goes back to normal.
And we all have a very Merry Christmas :)
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
The Last Straw
This is a true story.
Earlier tonight I was walking home, bundled in my North Face 600 count down parka, listening to the Counting Crows on my iPod. As I was walking up 8th Avenue, I was trying to embrace the holiday spirit. Couples were buying Christmas trees on 18th street while lone shoppers made their way to restaurants or to the warmth of their homes. Observing the frigid air, I was thankful for my short walk and warm clothes.
At 21st street, a homeless man was approaching. I started to feel sad that he was unbundled, alone and that he reeked of despair. And I finally thought I caught some of that warm fuzzy December feeling. At least I was feeling at all. But just as the homeless man and I passed each other, he turned to his left and spit in my face. He spit. In My Face.
And that my friends, is the last straw. I thought the waterfall ceiling was my breaking point, but now even the two months of wet mildew have been trumped. My days in NYC are numbered and the countdown to my one-way exit has begun.
Earlier tonight I was walking home, bundled in my North Face 600 count down parka, listening to the Counting Crows on my iPod. As I was walking up 8th Avenue, I was trying to embrace the holiday spirit. Couples were buying Christmas trees on 18th street while lone shoppers made their way to restaurants or to the warmth of their homes. Observing the frigid air, I was thankful for my short walk and warm clothes.
At 21st street, a homeless man was approaching. I started to feel sad that he was unbundled, alone and that he reeked of despair. And I finally thought I caught some of that warm fuzzy December feeling. At least I was feeling at all. But just as the homeless man and I passed each other, he turned to his left and spit in my face. He spit. In My Face.
And that my friends, is the last straw. I thought the waterfall ceiling was my breaking point, but now even the two months of wet mildew have been trumped. My days in NYC are numbered and the countdown to my one-way exit has begun.
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