Whoops, sorry for no new updates lately. I’ve been in Montreal the past 4 days, hanging out and living the laid back Canadian life. Which it really is - you can do anything you want and no one cares. They’re too busy being friendly and watching hockey.

I’ll leave you with some photos, and I promise, some exciting new content soon.

Montreal is so pretty and European-y.

And is famous for their bagels. Check out the dude on the right giving me stink-eye.

This park was full of crazy hippie types playing hacky sack and doing drum circles. Also, every single person in this photo is blazed out of their mind. The cops don’t care. They have hockey to watch and people to be friendly to.

I also spent a lot of time with my brothers in the Jacuzzi drinking wine. I live a hard life.

Remember problem 49, the yet to be revealed food problem?

Well, it didn’t end up working out.

Do you want to know what it was going to be? Too bad, I’m not going to tell you. Was I going to quit being vegan and eat a steak? Was I going to stuff my face with Taco bell everyday for a month (dream come true)? Was I going to karate chop in the neck this trust-fund d-bag for serving foie gras lollipops at his ridiculous restaurant?

You’ll just have to decide for yourself.

Julio, who is soon to be the future baby-daddy of my dear friend and sister in biking, Jess, keeps crying about how he can never eat the cupcakes I make because they have sugar in them.

Then, in yesterday’s post about moving to New York, I humbly asked if it would be ok with all y’all if I added finding an apartment to the list of problems. Julio said no!, and then said, ok, if you make me sugar free cupcakes first.

And since I’m always one step ahead of the game in everything I do, I’ll kill two bird with one stone: Problem 49 is to make Julio some nasty sugar-free cupcakes, which means I can then add Problem 93 as finding an apartment in NY that isn’t in a horrible neighborhood and doesn’t require living with 32 other people. Oh and has decent bathroom tile, and always smells like fresh laundry. And also is near the train. And has lots of light. And if it had a yard or a deck or something, I will just die of happiness.

That’s all, easy.

Man, I’m so smart. I turned one request for baked goods into two problems that I kind of have to do anyway. Genius.

The only people who really read this blog are my dad and Riki, and 2-3 friends, depending on how many enemies I’ve made in the past week. (Hi dad, hi riki, hi friends!) There are some of you though, who stumble on my blog by googling things like “out of breath when I climb” (yes, me too) or “all about potholes from acne” (what? sick…) and a few pervy things I won’t mention.

So this news, this problem 90 announcement is for you, the people who aren’t my dad or Riki or friends: Riki and I are moving to New York!

This is New York.

Problem 90 was going to be some sort of big life change, but when I declared it, I wasn’t exactly sure what that change would be. So this is it, here it is, we’re moving. This will definitely present some logistical challenges for some of my problems - I’ll figure them out as I go. But look for a whole bunch of NYC related problems to be announced soon. Oh, and a question for my readers: do you think it’s cheating if I make finding an apartment a problem? Please say no.

And Chicago friends, be advised that there will be a bunch of problems crammed into the next few weeks… margarita party? you guys free?

This post is dedicated to Riki. Riki is the Micky to my Rocky.

He’s been getting my ass in gear to take care of this blog business, which in case you didn’t notice, and I know you did, I’ve been getting some shit done. On Friday, as I was putting on my grey sweat suit to go jog around town, he said “OK kid, what’re we gonna do for the blog this weekend, eh?!” He helped me pick 6 things to do (4 which we did do, including watching the bane of my existence Brewster’s Millions), and then he sent me out to chase some chickens in a circle for a while. Sorry, enough of that.

Sunday we woke up to a miserable spring Chicago day. The weather in Chicago really is a joy, I could just snuggle it for hours. It was pouring buckets, and when we walked outside I was nearly knocked over by the wind. At one point I just stood and yelled and leaned into the wind, because that was all that there was to be done.

We finally made it (by bus) to the Museum of Surgical Science. The Museum is so awesome - It’s an old mansion on Lake Shore Drive at North Avenue. The second you walk in you already feel creeped out, but in that cool way, like walking through a cemetery. The building itself is amazing - everything about it feels full of history. It has a huge marble staircase, long empty rooms and corridors.. It’s the kind of place that if I was ever locked inside overnight (it’s possible, it happens in every Nancy Drew novel, right?) I would just lay in the corner and weep, and then slowly go insane. All before morning.

Here are some pictures to help you get an idea of the place. But really, you should go. (Disclosure: The museum has paid me $5,000,000 in unmarked bills to review it on my blog)

Let me tell you about this photo. This is an amputation set, circa 1700-1800. How absolutely wonderful.

There are these really beautiful paintings all throughout the museum, even if the subject matter is hard to stomach. This guy was nice enough to show us the Ye Olde Time Amputation set in action.

This woman is doing a little better. Actually, maybe she’s just dead. Note to self: Do not have a kid, ever.

This guy comes alive at midnight and murders you if you’re around.

Here is where I started to get nauseous.

This was sad - it’s an iron lung used to treat kids with polio in the 40s and 50s.

These are Trephines, circa 1800-1900. The card says “Used to drill holes in patient’s skulls.” Wow. Here is where I threw up a little bit.

And here’s this guy, he was treated with a trephine. Apparently this does not kill you. I won’t argue this.

This one is for all my male readers. All one of you.

And, another skull with a hole. This makes me appreciate a fully intact skull.

I spared you some of the grossest parts of the exhibit, like the glass case full of kidney stones. wtf!

Afterwards, we were sooo hungry as you can imagine, so we hopped back on the bus and rode up to Ras Dashen for Ethiopian food. I’ve never been there before, and it was really, really delicious. A perfect warm, spicy meal for a cold and rainy Sunday. I had a great Ethiopian beer with mine, and in the process, I checked number 40 off the list. Well, we didn’t bike to the restaurant, but we did ride the bus for 2 years to get there, and 2 years home, so I’m counting it.

In conclusion: I suggest you go to the museum, get grossed out, go get Ethiopian food, and then head home for a nap. It makes for a good day.

This weekend, a full month after it showed up in our mailbox, I did the impossible… I finished Brewster’s Millions.

I could give you a review, tell you my deepest thoughts, explain how it changed me forever, but it didn’t so I won’t. I will say, if you are dying to watch an 80s comedy one day in the near future, leave this one for further down the list. Maybe even last, or never, on the list. Watch The Jerk or something of this quality first. I know The Jerk was released in 1979, but what’s a year?

In place of my review, watch this instead. Then, I’ll tell you again, go rent The Jerk.

OK, I think I figured it out. It’s John Candy. I don’t like John Candy. I know it isn’t right to speak ill of those who are no longer with us, but I just want to punch him in the arm so hard.

There is a lesson in here somewhere… what I thought would be my easiest problem became the most challenging. I will think about this more after I go have a snack.

You know what’s cool? When you’re going about your Saturday, minding your business, and all of a sudden your friends call to say “Hi, we have two tickets to the Cubs game, do you want to go? Oh, also, they’re skybox tickets, hope thats ok.”

Mmmm, yeah, I guess that’s ok.

Henry and Anne invited Riki and I to the game Saturday, and it was my first, and probably only, skybox experience of my life. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go to a game and sit in the stands like a common folk ever again after being so rich for an afternoon. So. Rich.

Did you know you get free food in a skybox? Free beer (New Castle! wtf!), Free veggie plate that had asparagus on it, Free fruit plate with mother effing star fruit and pineapple, Free nuts and chips and pretzels, and on and on. There is also a TV in the room in case sitting on the seats and watching the real game just isn’t cutting it. Plus, you sit in your own little section that separates you from the jerks in other sections.

Mmm, yes, this is much better. Now bring me some champagne!

Later, after we gorged ourselves on food and beer, after we thought “Things just can’t get better” well, they did. The dessert cart girl showed up in all her glory…

You were allowed to pick anything from this cart. ANE-EE-THING. And, you can’t see, but on the top of the cart there were a bunch of dessert liquors that she poured for us into shot glasses. Oh, they were chocolate shot glasses. You could eat the shot glass is what I’m saying. This was basically every childhood dream I’ve ever had come true. Without the liquor part. And a pony was missing, if there was a pony I would have just laid in the corner and passed out.

Anne got a sundae and a little cubs hat…

Riki got snickers cheesecake.. look! that little thing next to it is the choc shot.

I’m not sure what Henry got, but it has ice cream on it…

Now, you might be wondering, why am i posting about this? Well, you probably forgot that in the Random Category, number 92 is “Go to a cubs game and sit in the skybox”. Yeah, you forgot, right! Problem solved, one off the list for me, suckers.

Wait til you see all the other stuff I did this weekend.. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Spoiler alert: I survived Brewster’s Millions!

Ok, so I ran the mofo Flying Pig half marathon, and it was actually really fun.

I knew I would be glad I did it once it was over, it was the whole leading up to it part I wasn’t excited about.

I’ve done this kind of stuff before, but in the past I actually trained and was ready. Real training, like waking up at 6am to run 18 miles. But that was 2004 me. I’m no 2004 me anymore.

Following is the training plan for 2008 me:

Monday: Walk down stairs 4 times. Walk up stairs 4 times. Walk to the kitchen 30 times. Lean over the bed and look for the remote. Pull self up from leaning.

Tuesday: Most of Monday + Ride bike to work, press elevator button 6 times with right finger, repeat 3 times with left.

Wednesday: Some of Monday and Tuesday with a sprinkle of practicing dance moves.

Thursday: 1 push up. Punch Riki in the arm x 2, followed by 3 reps of walking to the liquor store.

Friday: Repeat Monday, plus hold curling iron up for 30 seconds on right side, repeat on left side. Continue until arms get shaky and weak.

And weekends off, of course. But you knew that.

I’ve been on this grueling plan for 3 months, until two weeks ago when I started getting annoying emails every 2 hours from the race organizers reminding me what I had agreed to. EF! So I started cramming for the final and running between 3-6 miles every other day or so. But I wasn’t fooling myself, I knew this shit was gonna be hard and I was not really ready. 3 miles plus 10 more was what I had ahead of me.

With all this in mind, I drove to Cincinnati with Anne and Michelle. Then, as humiliating as this is to admit, we went to Chili’s. But not just went, we google text messaged to find one, and then drove 40 min out of the way to get there. This was the pre-race plan. I also might have had a margarita, it’s all fuzzy now…

But look, here’s Paula Radcliff, super marathon woman who had a kid like a week before winning the NYC marathon. I saw an interview with her once and she said before every race she eats her weight in french fries and has a margarita. Yeah, she said that. See? I’m in good company.

proof!

Anyway, the race went pretty well. I got a serious side stitch at like mile 9, and walked it off for probably a half mile or so.

I finished in 2:26, which I’m happy with… I really thought it would go much worse. Much, much worse.

Also, sorry for the poor quality of these images… I had the camera on some funky setting, plus I was running and all sweaty and uncomfortable. I was in no frame of mind to fix it.

here we are at the start, lined up like a bunch of jerks.

The run was actually really really pretty… we crossed a bunch of bridges.

Michelle and I post race, pre-pigging out. We are Americans first, race finishers second.

Arrrghh! I have to run the stupid Flying Pig Half Marathon this weekend.

And really, the only reason I am doing it is because I said I would on this blog. Which is exactly why I did this blog in the first place, to follow through on commitments. But I don’t not want to follow through for 13 miles, I don’t!

Arrrrgh!

It will be fun though, I’m looking forward to the road trip with Michelle and Anne, and I’m really looking forward to all the food I can eat because when you just get through running a bunch you can eat anything, right?

ohhh.. I want french fries.. and banana walnut pancakes…