Halloween Weekend

This past weekend was spent in Portland, my old haunt. The time was well spent from catching up with good friends. Part of the highlight, though, was the pumpkin carving. Unfortunately the store was out of medium-sized ones, but I found one that was just right. Richard got the white one with some pumpkin acne going on, but he made those weird patches into bullets. I, on the other hand, went a little bit more Internet-related.

Plastic Bags are Evil

Everyone's favorite Scandinavian furniture store has made some interesting changes in the past year to two that makes a Granola's heart flutter. Instead of piling goods into a gigantic plastic bag, Ikea started to charge money for the bags to discourage consumers from wasting bags. Genius. In fact, I've seen grocery stores in Europe that have the same practice.

I mentioned about a month ago that I've been looking for reusable grocery bags, and I think I've found them. Once I make the purchase, I'll report back on how they hold up. In the meantime, I'll continue to be the weirdo that brings back old bags from the grocery stores. I typically reuse the same bag 3-4 times from Whole Foods, and maybe about 10 times for the paper bags from Trader Joe's.

Now I need to get a coffee mug to stop using those paper cups I use at work. I've been reducing my green karma points lately, thanks to my recent tea-drinking habit. Oh forgive me... I swear I'll go get a fashionable mug that I can reuse and display on my desk.

Photo credit: Flickr Creative Commons

Update: Patched Tire

So the patch job is a good temporary fix. But I found out this morning that the patched tube will only hold air for about 48 hours. I'm not sure if my patching technique was bad, but at least I know now that I'll be able to get back home if I get a flat tire. Changing out the tube was much faster than patching, so I may just carry two tubes from now on.

Can you imagine roadside assistance for bikes? I think that'll be a great service in a city that has enough bike riders. Hmm, food for thought.

First Time Flat Fix

Flat tires are inevitable in the life of a bike commuter. If you haven't pissed off the higher powers recently, you will be lucky enough to have the flat close to home. That was my case today, as I noticed a piece of rock lodged in my front tire when I got through the front door. When I picked it off, my tire hissed in protest, going from 100-ish psi to zero in less than a minute. Since I had been a wimp so far and had the bike shop fix my flats, I decided to orient myself in fixing a flat with a patch kit. I conceptually knew how to fix a flat, but had never done it before. Until now.

Thankfully, I had all the doohickey I needed for the job. Two tire levers, one patch kit, and a floor pump. I Googled how to fix a flat, quickly gave myself a crash course, took a swig from my bike water bottle (filled with water, of course), and proceeded with the project.

Aside from a few minor hiccups, I think it went well. The tire wasn't fully inflating at the first go, but then I realized that the nozzle of the pump wasn't fully seated. After feeling like a bit of a 'tard for a moment, I continued pumping tup to 100 psi. We'll see tomorrow if this patch job worked. The worst that will happen is that I'll have another flat. It's not like I'll have a massive Ford Explorer-style blowout.

Inadvertent Stalking

The moment was bound to happen. His office is near the Trader Joe's I shop at, and I go grocery shopping around the time he gets off work. We went on a few dates, but we were not really a match and things fizzed out between us like the bazillion Diet Cokes he would drink through the course of his day. I was pulling out of the garage of TJ and I saw him in his car exiting at the same time. I didn't really follow him because he was going in the same direction. Where he was going was not my concern, but then when I was about to make a turn to Venice Blvd., I saw that he made a pit-stop at Wendy's. I teased him often for having such a bad diet. He must've eaten there at least 2-3 times a week for dinner because he claimed to be too tired to cook when he got home. Hell, I don't really cook when I get home but I don't do fast food for dinner.

Seeing him at the Wendy's takeout window made me wonder: why was I so into him? And on the flip side, I'm not sure why he went out with me as many times as we did. I wasn't what he was looking for, and neither was he for me (though it was later that I realized this).

I do not have bad feelings for him, and I do hope that he will mend his Super Size Me ways before he actually becomes Super Sized. I already saw a little more flesh than is normally allowed for a healthy BMI.

For my own personal benefit, I made a mental note to be mindful of when someone might be watching me from the shadows. Better not be picking my nose when that happens.

Lemon Cookie: Nice N' Easy and Tasty

Cookie exchanges conjure up images of middle-aged women in the office trying to show off their wares. Tupperwares, that is. They compliment each other and ask for recipes, even though they may secretly despise each other and talk shit around the corner in the office kitchen. My company had one today, and while I cannot venture any guesses as to what sort of alliances there are between the women in our group, I had fun. Being the atypical company, the cookie exchange was combined with Happy Hour. While there was plenty of milk to be enjoyed with cookies, there were also White Russians and shots of Buttery Nipples available. Nothing quite like getting buzzed while eating cookies. I've never experienced such a sugar high, which might explain how the bike ride home was somewhat faster than normal.

I found recipes for Lemon Cookies on allrecipes.com, and once I saw "Easy" in the headline, I was sold. Because it is a cake mix cookie, almost everything that goes into the cookie comes in a box. All I had to do was crack some eggs, pour some vegetable oil, and squeeze lemon juice. The recipe calls for lemon essence, but none was available at the store. Being the procrastinator that I am, I went grocery shopping way too late to hit multiple locations in search of lemon essence, so I improvised by using lemon rinds and juice. While it worked in a pinch, I don't think the cookies were lemony enough. Regardless, I received lots of compliment from the crowd. I think I was one of two guys who baked. The other guy claims to be straight, but I have my doubts.

Perhaps I will make them again when the occasion calls for it.

Photo credit: Allrecipes.com

Adopted

I went to a lovely birthday party in downtown this past Sunday, celebrating the big 7-0 for Mrs. C. What baffles me is that she looks nothing like her age, and I'm convinced that she is lying about her age (though typically people lie to be younger, not older). If I look half as good as she does at 70, then everything will be splendid. Even cuter was when she danced with Mr. C. As jaded as I am, seeing those two shake their thang made me rethink the definition of longevity and happiness. On top of all the festivities, I was unofficially adopted by Mrs. C into the C clan, which to a lonely soul in a big city is a gift that is hard to match. The holidays are not particularly fun for me, as my family does not celebrate them. Hence, being accepted into a family that knows how to party is a big blessing. The party on Sunday was so loud that people who had rented the adjacent hall at the hotel was complaining. Somewhat ironic is that the people next door were bunch of old Japanese men. My peeps are so boring and sedated.

On a side note, I was mesmerized by one woman who had the most outrageous sense of style at the party. Her gold-painted 3-inch nails captured my eyes, along with her gigantic Louis Vuitton bag. Her hair was did with a hair product that will not move even while standing fabulously amidst the eye of a hurricane. I desperately need a product like that. If I could've taken a picture with her, I would've done it faster than one could say "I'll show you attitude!" Snap SNAP! Oh Miss Beauty Shop, please take me as your style disciple.

And then there was the cake. Mmm, delicious cake. I was all over that Strawberry goodness until I felt sick in my stomach. Once my stomach was better, I broke into the piece I took home, and felt sick all over again. Had I taken the sheet home, I would've consumed it until I passed out.