Bike Updates

Me and Linus the Girl Bike (you remember her) have been commuting to work lately - the goal is two days a week, and preferably three; I have the "out" of loading Linus onto the bus if I really can't face the ride home - or if it rains!

On day three of commuting, me and Linus passed our first other biker! Felt great.

On week three of commuting, me and Linus were aggressively honked at for the first time. Felt terrifying; I almost steered INTO the car. It should be noted that the honk was intended for the biker two behind me, who was passing the biker one behind me, and I got caught in the tangle.

And on week four of commuting, I completed a real hurdle... I went to Zumba after riding home 4 miles (mostly uphill) and made it through class! Barely. Linus the Girl Bike called me Rider the Jelly Legs after that one.

On the other hand...

I've been obsessed in recent months about the connections between our gut bacteria and food allergies, asthma, eczema, even autism. The research coming out about being too clean, and too sanitized, is fascinating, and there's a whole subcategory of this research about dairy (which I personally react to in various ways) and skin/digestive/bacterial issues. The superbugs and fecal transplants and microscopic curing of insane food allergies in children... this stuff is the Best. If I was fifteen, I really might go into medicine or biology; that's how much this fascinates me.

But. There's a line. My great-grandmother said we all have to eat a bushel of dirt before we die, and she was right, no doubt. But this article about changing stations that are never cleaned, and the norovirus that brought down most of the employees of an auto dealership after a little kiddo had an epic, explosive shit situation in their bathroom... that's the line. That's too much dirt. That was enough to make me want to use Purel! And the force of nature no further can go.

Never ever gonna get old

That's a line from a David Bowie song I love but I don't think Sir David would like why I'm quoting him... I'm quoting him in regards to peanut butter.

Look people. I'm trying. I'm trying to like this almond you're all so crazy for. I've tried it plain. I've tried it on toast, and with an apple. I've tried Wild Squirrel's vanilla espresso almond butter. I've tried Justin's various versions.

That stuff doesn't hold a candle to peanut butter. It's like tofurkey at Thanksgiving. It's like carob brownies. At heart I'll always be seven years old, eating peanut butter off a spoon - and I'm never ever gonna get old!

Discovery

You know those cookies they serve on Delta flights? Biscoff? Two oval biscuits wrapped in red cellophane - a sort of spicy gingerbread graham cracker? I love them. I really love them. I have always loved them since my first Delta flight at age 7, and even today my dear sweet husband, who only flies Delta for business, brings them home for me from his travels.

Well, while there are loads of things I can - and need to - tell you about the new job, including the five million things I've learned about video transcoding and the overwhelming pace and drive that everyone there has - I must first tell you that Biscoff comes AS A SPREAD. IN A JAR. At sweet, spreadable room temperature.

It is the peanut butter version of Biscoff cookies. And it sits about 25 feet from me, in the common kitchen (1 of 2), that is stocked every week with tons of free food (both are), for all staff members.

I basically have an endless supply of Biscoff. This is quite the discovery. And quite the motivator - hello, 3 PM Treat!

Be Careful!

If you're a knuckle-cracker that is.

Because, as it turns out, while science has shown time and again that it does not cause arthritis, it CAN sprain a joint - like any other ligament sprain. And it really sucks if you are, perhaps, an aggressive knuckle-cracker and find yourself in just this predicament.

Prescription? Ibuprofen. And rest; lots of it. For example - wrap it up so you remember not to use it, thus letting it rest. Sheesh. 

Too perfect.

Paid my bullshit arts head tax today. The one that is going to get found illegal, overturned, and I'll see my money back someday soon. The captcha to process my online payment?

MUST PHOULYA

You ain't just whistling Dixie!

Dinner of Champions. Or newbies.

Day three at a new job... where, incidentally, I feel like I skipped right from 8th grade to college over the weekend... and what's for dinner? Oatmeal and fruit salad. Heck, it's a feat to not succumb to takeout!