Brownies and Blondies

Tomorrow is my final group project work session, (remember our salsa-mimosa-baked goods tradition?) so I decided a little extra fanfare was in order. 

Today's menu, homemade brownies and funfetti blondies.

I won't tell you how much butter and sugar go into this recipe. 

It would scare you away from eating it. All I'll say is Paula would approve. 

Yum. I may have eaten a little batter. From both recipes. Oops.

Nothing particular to say about either one, but they turned out so delicious I had to share. Click the links above to get to the original recipes. The directions and quantities turned out perfectly, so no alterations from the original needed.

Enough sugar for you? Here's to hoping our final group project work session is highly productive.

The true definition of "Young Professional"

It's Bring You Sons and Daughters to Work day at my office.

And I've realized that I am closer in age to most of the kids than I am to most of my coworkers.

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There are a lot of days where I feel like I'm just pretending to be some sort of grown up.

Today is one of them.

Happy Thursday.

A child's weight loss in the spotlight

You may or may not have heard the bad buzz around an article from the April issue of Vogue titled “Weight Watcher.” Quick recap: A New York mother is alarmed by her 8 year old daughters weight at a recent doctor visit and decides to put her on a diet. The article is pretty harsh and has gotten a lot of bad press. You can’t find the article online, you’d have to buy the magazine, which is probably no longer on newsstands; but ABC News has a pretty decent summary and critique here.

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As a chubby kid (I was always a one-piece bathing suit kind of kid) I can relate to this little girl’s so-called weight troubles, and her strong emotions about it. This article excerpt breaks my heart: “That’s still me,” Weiss writes of how Bea reacted to her former, heavier self. “I’m not a different person just because I lost sixteen pounds.” I protest that indeed she is different. At this moment, that fat girl is a thing of the past. A tear rolls down her beautiful cheek, past the glued-in feather. “Just because it’s in the past,” she says, “doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” I just want to hug her and tell her that I’m sorry she’s growing up in Manhattan because she’ll probably always have a body image issues as a result (not to say that my hybrid east coast/Midwest upbringing didn’t bring about the same sorts of issues).

But I really don’t want to drudge up the controversy around this article again; it’s a month old, and I don’t have anything new to share that you probably haven’t already read.

What I do want to share is this article from a site called Momfilter (don’t ask me how I stumbled across it because I honestly don’t remember. It’s been a slow day in the office so I’ve been drudging around the Internet for a while.).

It’s the first decent critique of the Vogue article that I have seen. Mainly because it brings into question the writers and editors role in shaping the article to bring about this desired outcome. Not to say that they inflated the story about a mom putting her daughter on a diet; I’m sure she was denied cupcakes and candy, and pouted at many a dinner table while staring at her vegetables. But what the Momfilter articles points out is that there is probably more to the story, and I’m sure this mother and daughter would strongly agree with that.

Did you read the article or contribute to the public outcry that followed? Do you think the mom was wrong for wanting her daughter to lose weight? Or do you think that the way she went about it (and about publicizing it) was wrong?

You didn't know you were having difficulties drinking out of that beer can, did you?

I am always proud to say that I am from Wisconsin. Always. 

But once in a while, Wisconsin, you really out do yourself. 

That my friends, is a hole in the top of your beer can. Meant to be punched in with your key (as detailed below on the box), so you can drink your beer faster. So you can drink your beer faster. Really?

Technically it is design to "improve pour characteristics." Where are you pouring beer? Into your mouth. Miller decided that we were having a really hard time drinking beer out of traditional beer cans, so they've come up with this new "technology" to help us out.

So thank you Miller Brewing Company for making me continually proud to be from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Innovation at its beer soaked finest.

I Love the Internet

There is a lot of shit on the internet. You all know that. I don't need to dig up some terrible Fox new clips or pictures of catz with bad grammar to prove that to you.

But once in a while, there is something that makes you laugh so hard you wish you weren't sitting at your desk because when you look around you realize, oh you're at work and no one here gives a shit about what you're laughing at on the internet. That happened several time this week.

Every Friday, Mollie from Eat, Run, Read posts her "Best of the Week," and there are always a few gems to be found there. So I can't quite take credit for my two favorite random internet finds of the week; thanks Mollie!

This Nike Free commercial is adorable.

My favorite part is in the details. Like how she stops to get an ice cream cone. Or, in the very last seconds, her shoes disappear from the shot and the heart rate monitor starts to beep a little faster. I love Nike marketing. It's just a shame their shoes are terrible for my feet.

And then there's this video, of a woman vacuuming her dog, Corbin the Corgi. Nothing particularly funny about that. But the Gawker article that called attention to it identifies the dog's full name as "Corbin Dallas Multipass." And I think that's just awesome. (Not getting the joke? Well then you're clearly not well versed in the cinematic classics.)


And from another coast entirely...I regularly read the blog 20-Nothings by Jessie Rosen. It's real and honest, and can always be counted on to provide some links to must-read blogs and articles. This week she shared a post called "The Tumblr I Wish I was Writing," referring to the newly popular tumblr account "As You Like It" a blog about girls & guys & dating & not dating. Highly entertaining in its honest simplicity.

Best posts on there so far:

I was having a conversation with a chick in her late 20s about soul mates. She was convinces she wouldn't meet hers and I was convinced that she would. Then I realized we were basically having the fucking "hope" conversation from SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION. What I'm saying is, being single is like being in prison in the '40s. GET BUSY LIVING OR GET BUSY DYING. That's goddamn right. 


When a tall chick sees a short chick dating tall dude, they have the same reaction that a black chick has when she sees a white chick dating a black dude. It's like "bitch get your own! We only have so many good ones!" Truth.

And my final item worth sharing this week (if you haven't seen it already) is a New York Times article about men and women and the eternal debate of can they be just friends. I will be totally honest - I am really f*cking sick of these conversations. I have had a lot of close male friends throughout my entire life. And everyone always wants to know what's going on with me and [insert male friend's name here]. Nothing. Nothing is going on. We're friends. High school, college, and even now as a semi-adult, can't I have guys in my life that really are just friends? Why the hell does it always have be about relationships and sex?

I ran into this video on youtube a while ago; college filmmaker walking around his college campus asking girls and guys if they have friends of the opposite sex. The answers from some of the guys are funny because they are honest, but it puts real perspective on the college male's point of view in this argument.

Do you agree with the article? Do you have close friends of the opposite sex? And are you constantly questioned about it?

Happy Friday. Hope you are also sitting at your desk laughing at the internet today.

Single White Female seeks Fiction with Flare

Jennifer Close's Girls in White Dresses has been on my To Read list ever since I read this review in the Washington Post last year. A snappy new book with a rave review in the Post, written by a 30-something Washingtonian? Sign me up. But after spending almost an entire paycheck way too much money on books in 2011, I opted to wait my turn at the library; six months later, my name finally made it to the top of the list.

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I love, love, loved this book. It was exactly what I needed right now. A lot of my non-graduate school reading lately has been very heavy handed (think wars and conflict in far away ancient lands, etc.); I was in need of something a bit more relatable.

Centered in Chicago and New York, Girls in White Dresses is a series of interconnected stories, narrated in the first person by a group of 20-something friends trying to navigate their post-collegiate world. (Relatable, no?) Some plan to get married, some plan have kids, some plan to stay single, some don't plan anything.

The writing style is very light and conversational, covering a breadth of your usual 20-something problems and life conundrums (but not in a kitchy Confessions of a Shopaholic or Sex in the City sort of way). The writing is sophisticated without feeling posh. Like I know these girls, like I have talked to these girls.

Now I'm off to start my next long awaited book. Along with the stack sitting on my night stand. Eventually I'll finish grad school have time to actually read all of these. Right?

Happy Opening Day!

In honor of today's joyous occasion, I've added a little extra royal blue and yellow to my day. 

A new phone background. 

My game-day bracelet.

And my favorite gift I've ever received from Ange. 

All beverages will be consumed today will be from this travel mug.

Also, I'm wearing a Brewers tank top underneath a buttoned up cardigan sweater at the office today. It's casual Friday, but I think a baseball shirt is a little too casual just on it's own. 

It is still roughly 110 days until I get to see my beloved Milwaukee Brewers play at Miller Park (wow that's a depressing number written out), but I'm happy nonetheless because baseball season has begun (and I do get to go to an Orioles game tomorrow, not quite the same but still exciting to me).

Happy Opening Day to baseball fans everywhere.

The Big Salad

After a weekend of babyshower treats and some highly questionable post-race food choices, tonight was a much needed salad night. A big salad night. Lately, this combo has been exceptionally delicious and super easy to put together.

 Greens + roasted brussels sprouts with chili flakes +

+ diced cherry tomatoes +

+ one tablespoon dressing + the juice of half a lime + 

 + whatever else you have on hand. (Tonight it was some diced sweet onions.) And done. 

Happy dining. Off to more procrastination. 

That Editorial Management paper will write itself. Right?

Cherry Blossom 10-Miler: Year 2

It's Sunday night at 8:00 p.m., and somehow this mornings race already seems like a distant memory, blurring together with all other early race mornings, long hill climbs, and strong finish line sprints. Luckily my legs are still incredibly sore, and I anticipate I'll have that lovely reminder of the race with me for the next few days.

Lets back up a couple of days. Friday after work I headed over to the expo for the usual packet pick up routine. Last year when the girls and I went to the expo, we waited in a two-hour line that wrapped around the entire building. Luckily when I arrived Friday after work, I was in and out within a half an hour. Only thing really worth mentioning about the expo is to talk about the poster for this year's race; it incorporates the logo for this year's event (also found on the race shirt and the medal) and a little text. I'm not exactly sure why, but I am completely in love with it. It had a very vintage feel, is beautifully colorful and is a great representation of the 40th anniversary of the race. I snagged one at the expo (they were free!) and proudly hung it on the bulletin board on my bedroom wall.

I went through my usual pre-race prep on Saturday night. Shocking, I'm sure, I try to lay everything out ahead of time. The last thing I need to try and do at 5:15 a.m. is remember where I put my safety pins or SmartTrip card.

I metro-ed to the race site and arrived in plenty of time to find a bathroom, some pre-race water, and scope out the corrals.

A little after 7:00 a.m. they opened up the corrals. Wanting to run a strong first few miles, I had decided to start the race with the 11:30 min/mile pace team. I have never run with a pace group before, so to be totally honest I was a little intimidated by the idea. I, more often than not, run on my own and I wasn't totally sure I could keep up or wouldn't get lost in the crowd. After a few minutes of lingering around I started to make some small talk with the other women around me, most of them clearly running on their own and also joining the pace team. I ended up really chatting it up with a 30-something woman name Tara; it was her first Cherry Blossom and it would be the farthest she had ever run. She was really sweet and nervous about the race, so I tried to talk her through the course, telling her about my experience last year. We got to chatting about running and life in general, and as we started to move forward towards the starting line I realized we had one of those unspoken bonds for this race. Like the I-know-I-just-met-you-but-lets-spend-the-next-two-hours-together sort of unspoken bond. Running friends I hope you know what I mean. Non-running friends, you probably think I'm crazy. But whatever, it's a runner thing.

Mile 0-1: 11:34

We crossed the start line and tried to stay tight with the pace group of about 20 people. The first mile flew by; the crowd hadn't even thinned out yet, and there we were cruising through towards the Lincoln Memorial.

Mile 1-2: 11:46

This stretches out and across the Memorial Bridge, which was surprisingly not very windy considering it was a rather cool spring morning. Still feeling great, sticking next to Tara (and still chatting away, which at an 11:30 pace I was quite proud I could keep a full conversation going), and just steps behind the pace team leader.

Mile 2-3: 11:11

We started to stray from the pace group a bit. They had been stopping at the numerous water stations, and we hadn't. She had a water bottle, and I found the water stations to be such a zoo I wanted to avoid them until I really need it. We were ahead of the pace group by about 50 yards, and it really showed since we had shaved off about 30 seconds from the previous mile.

Mile 3-4: 11:22

Another water station passed up (why they put this one at the narrowest turn around on the whole course I'll never know) and we were still crusing along. The time was really flying by; being able to chat with someone made each mile more and more interesting. I was still feeling very good at this point in the race, so I altered my previous plan to do some walking in the 4-6 mile range. I was feeling good, so I figure why stop running. I was on track to reach my goal time.

Mile 4-5: 10:31

Not sure what happened here. It could be an iPod GPS error. 10:31? Really? Ok. I guess that's what I did. Apparently still feeling great. One minor thing at this point - I really needed to pee. That pre-race water had caught up with me but I wasn't willing to sacrifice time standing in line at the various port-o-potties. I told myself the first ones I come across with no line or a short line, I'd stop. If not, then I'd just have to hold it for a few more miles. 

Mile 5-6: 11:37

Luckily, I didn't have to hold it for the rest of the race. Trying to run while thinking about your full bladder is very distracting. Only having to stop for a second before a stall was available, a girl comes stammering out and says "it's disgusting in there." Everyone else in line takes a step back. Ok, well if you guys aren't going then I will. It's a port-o-potty at an event for 25,000 people. Of course they're going to be disgusting. But hands down, best decision of the day was to grab a few extra pieces of paper towel (originally intended to conceal my breakfast on the metro) and shove them into my pocket before leaving my apartment. Of course the stall was out of toilet paper. I'll state it again, best decision of the day. Any women, and especially women runners, will understand.

I didn't want to hold Tara up but said I'd catch up with her, and said she'd stay to the right side of the course which is where I found her just a few minutes later. Having this total stranger as an impromptu running buddy was the best thing that happened to me at this race. Without her I probably wouldn't have stuck with the pace group, probably wouldn't have had such successful first 6 miles, and probably would have taken a lot more walking breaks. I hope that I was able to help her as much as she was able to help me.

Mile 6-7: 10:41

Again, not sure what happened here. I think my iPod got a little excited. I did pick my pace up considerably after my bathroom stop but that was just to catch up to my partner. I guess we held the pace I set. Who knows. Still felt good at this point, exceptionally better with an empty bladder.

Mile 7-8: 11:37

Hungry, thirsty, tired, and sore started to set in coming up on the 7-mile water station. As much as it pained me to do so, I announced I'd be stopping to sip on some water and take a short walking break. Tara was going to press on; I told her it was great to meet her, happy first race, and have a strong finish. I didn't run into her again, but I have no doubt that she did cross that finish line strong. She disappeared into the  crowd as I grabbed a cup of dense, yellow Gatorade. I didn't mention my blog, so I doubt she'll ever see this, but if somehow this gets back to her: Tara, thank you for a great race! I hope you enjoyed your first Cherry Blossom 10-miler, and I know you'll conquer many more races in the future. Happy running, new friend!

I truly did just take a few sips during my short walking break and then decided to pick up the pace again before true fatigue set in. My legs were getting a little tired, but I knew I only had a couple more miles to go.

Thanks random stranger for snapping a quick photo for me at the finish!
Don't mind that pesky Washington Monument popping out from the top of my head.

Mile 8-9: 11:34

Whether it was a lack of running-buddy-support or true muscle fatigue, but my legs were really, really tired by the 8.5 mile point. I knew I couldn't take another walking break and make my goal time. I told myself that slow and steady would do just fine, as long as I kept moving. Apparently today's definition of slow and steady was 11:34. I mean geez. I still can't believe I didn't see a 12:00+ mile in this race. That pace group really did it's job in the early miles, setting my body's internal clock to appreciate a certain speed.

Mile 9-10: 10:12

I mean come on, I can't not sprint to the finish line. The final .25 of the race is up a hill. Not a big hill, but large enough of a hill during the final mile of a 10 mile race that you just want to give it the finger and sprint up the damn thing to get it over with sooner. It's mocking you with it's elevation change. Mock it right back with your speed.

In the true home stretch to the finish line I threw it into the highest speed my legs could produce. Lungs felt fine still, but I was moving my legs so fast I felt like one of those cartoon characters whose legs are moving so fast it's just a round blur, but their upper bodies remain intact. I'm sure that's exactly what I looked like. I'll see if I can't pull that up on MarathonFoto somewhere.

Actually, I'd rather not see my finish line photo. I can't even imagine the face I was making at the time. But hey, I finished. Not always pretty, but my feet carried me across the finish line nonetheless.

Final time: 1:57:58

For those of you keeping score at home, last year I ran it in 1:56:58. One minute. I was one minute from beating my time. How long do you think it took me to stop at the bathroom? Probably more than a minute, right? Damn that's a hard pill to swallow. But it's my official race time, and I'm sticking with it. I'm actually damn proud of it. At least I can say I am consistent. 

Another great race, another great piece of hardware. 

This race is almost more important to me that my half marathon was 10 days ago. It wasn't the first time I did this race, it wasn't the fartest I'd run, and it wasn't the fastest I'd run. But today I found out how far I can push my body with running. I can keep an 11:30 pace with a group. I can run a half marathon then turn around 10 days later and run a 10-miler. 

I love the Cherry Blossom 10 Mile Run, and I will probably enter the lottery every year (or buy a transfer into the race if I don't make the lottery). It's a beautiful course, it's very well organized, and it's got a lot of great memories for me.

The rest of my day was spent lounging, hydrating, and munching on lots of delicious foods.

Well and, of course, planning my next race... ;)

Happy Sunday!