nope

I am not going for a run. It is way more fun to turn the oven on. And that is multi-tasking. I am not going for a run. My ankle is sore. I realized recently that I cock my left ankle inside when I drive. I have always known I do that. But only remember on road trips. The oven will warm me up. It is gray outside. Sometimes I forget sweatshirts. Someone thought I was famous today again. I forgot his name already. But I did get a secret tour of MPR. Not so secret only because most of the people had already left for the day. Sort of secret.

No one is kidding

I should have seen it coming. There were warning signs.  But I couldn't resist. Four firecrackers stamped on that menu meant nothing. It was the only item that had four firecrackers next to it. The closets thing to it was a green curry with one firecracker. This had four. Four firecrackers, that I realize now may have been tiny dynamite sticks. Tiny dynamite sticks, that would have been more appropriate. It really should have been an A-Bomb. There were only four on the plate, accompanied by a lime sorbet chaser and a warning printed on card stock held up by two lines. Paraphrasing: "Warning. Do not complain to your server that these were too hot. You will be publicly mocked and have been warned." This was my second warning, first tiny sticks of dynamite, second a printed card placed on the plate. I dug it. The taste was excellent, sweet, creamy, onion cream cheese, crunchy warm battered outside and chewy, sticky, &%$%^^#ing hot pepper. Habanero Hell Poppers. Ouch! The roof of my mouth felt like it was being peeled back and a fire was then being aresol chemical sprayed on to it. I didin't think it wouls ever stop.  It was the hottest thing I have ever had in my mouth. I was enjoying the taste until my tastbuds shut down for fear of being burned off. The lime sorbet helped. And the constant drinking of water to pushing the pepper along its journey. Habenero Hell Poppers: Chino Latino.  They warn you, and they weren't kidding.

Oh, yeah.

Who needs Muscle Beach when I have Lake Calhoun? I can't believe some of those guys actually can run without falling over, they are so top heavy. And wide. Really wide. No one can run or walk around them. It is like a flesh wall huffing toward or in front of you.  Yes, I have popped my Lake Calhoun workout cherry. I have to admit I was a little intimidated. I am still new and hesitant to the running (I like to say jogging it sounds easier) and they only workout clothes I have are my Bikram yoga clothes. But did a scouting run near the lake yesterday to see where the entrances to the trail was and to see if there was a designated area or a one-way trail. But today I went for it. I did pretty good. I was colorful in my garb and my celebrity gas station sunglasses really helped me look cool. I didn't feel intimidated, my abs are like cathedral windows (without the stained glass). I don't run very fast, but it isn't a race. That I am aware of. Maybe it is. No wonder, runners don't smile, they don't know when the race is over. I didn't see a finish line. I was done before I got to it. Hmmm... what about that. I think I will bring a finish line next time for everyone.

Hostess.

I am hosting an impromptu party. I knew people were coming over at varied times this evening. So I realized why not actually have something more than beer? Well, I don't know about that but there is Root Beer now and three kinds of gourmet tortilla chips (sweet potato, olive and "the works") No salsa. .....yet. And I bought an overpriced but convenient fruit bowl for healthfulness. And I was able to run all my errands, run all my miles, shower, hind unmentionables(actually I haven't done that yet) and write this blog before my guest show up. I am such a hostess! Now I need to hide all the freaking Kotex I keep finding everywhere.

letter to blog

Hi Blog! Look at you! You are here on the internet. Out in the big wide world. Are you making friends? You don't seem to write home often, or at all. I send you letters. Do you get them? Did you like the cookies I made for you? It is important that I send you cookies. You don't have to eat them. Obviously, I would like you to eat them. But I understand if you don't.  I just make the kind that come in the bag, pre-portioned and pre-frozen and all I do is shake them out on a baking sheet and cook them like fish sticks. But I make them for you. The whole time I am getting the bag out of the freezer and tearing the plastic open and dumping them out I am thinking, "Blog is going to love these cookies so much. She will be so delighted and think of me each time she eats one of these individually loved cookies."  I am proud of you blog. For going out there with all those other blogs. There are a lot of blogs out there, I know you probably feel lost in the shuffle. But I know you are there. I think of you and write to you. You are important to me. You are just fine, blog.

Urban Bean

I think the Urban Bean girl thinks I am cheap. I ordered my expected Chair Tea (by the way Urban Bean also has the Oregon Chai Green Tea which is also excellent) and as she turned to make my delciousness I saw that the totally was $3.90. Luckily, I had five actual dollars. Ok, I say to myself, four of these dollars will pay for chai and one will be tip. Why am I holding this money like a fan like this? I don't need her to see me put the dollar in the tip jar for me to know I tipped her. So I put the dollar in the mug, I did put it in lightly so it looked like it was just recently placed and gravity hadn't pulled into down into the depths of the coins. When she returned with my tea, she I gave her the four dollars and she gave me my ten cents back, I also dropped that into the tip mug. She saw that. So she knows I tip annoying coins, but she doesn't know that I gave her a dollar when she wasn't looking. And then I went into the back room I had never sat in before and it became laptop station and everyone it there had the reusable mugs. I had the disposable cup, with lid and straw! I am the outcast. Most people in here are in their pajamas too. Or old and very wide with ice.  Me, always the stand out.

burning

My eyes keep burning. Is that like when your ears are burning when someone is talking about you? Or when your nose itches someone is thinking about you? My eyes burn. Mainly when I put in my eye drops. Maybe my eye drops are really acid. Acid drops. Isn't Acid Pops a thing? Does that exist. Sometimes only one of the eyes will independently tear. My eyes are asserting their independence in this healing process. Funny. So much dripping.