Permanent Spousal Record: Recent Conversations

The Inexplicable
LB: "I should have figured you'd be into kyaking; lesbians love kyaking."*

The Dastardly
Setting: QR is diligently, distractedly writing a manuscript on the couch whilst LB watches a hockey game.
LB:  "Can I have your Cookie Dough Ice Cream in the freezer?"
QR: "Yeah sure whatever....." commence 10 second pause while I tippity-type away... "Wait...What?  NO!"
LB: "Too late!  AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

We Love Each Other, I Swear
In response to me sending him this ecard:

 

He sent me this one:

Would that it were not so true.



*Said completely without a sense of irony.  I'm glad my husband is comfortable enough with my sexuality to make seminonsensical jokes about it.

Resolved: We are investing in kilts.

LB and I have both recently had pants-related disasters which have left me wondering whether we are responsible enough to be allowed to wear them.

Mine:
So the other day I was wearing my skinny jeans. But these particular skinny jeans are a little weird; they seem to get skinnier every time I wash them and never relax again. Also? While they have plenty of room in the butt, hips and thigh, what I didn't expect is that they would be tight on my monstrous calves (srsly. I have had distance runners astonished by my calf muscle size). So after work I change into my sweats. This day, as I am attempting to pull my skinny jeans off my calves, and they are just not coming off; they are much tighter than usual. I gather my strength give a good jerk, managing to yank so hard that I pull my feet out from under me. As I am falling, in what can only be described as fortuitous clumsiness, instead of landing straight on the floor I instead fall into the corner of the mattress, bounce off in the opposite direction, then land on the floor - looking very dignified with my jeans around my ankles.

LB's:
LB has this ancient pair of dress pants he had somehow inherited, and whether they were structurally sound was in question. This question was answered several months ago, when LB bent over and ripped the buttcrack seam. Like, all the way from taint to waistband. Normally I mend clothes, since between the two of us, I am the least unhandy with a needle. But this was too much for me; I knew that A) I would not be able to get a straight line so his butt would look wavy and B) I would get an ADHD attack halfway through and the stitches would get large and ineffective. So I told him to take them to a tailor. Apparently at some point he instead put them back into the laundry hamper, and they were washed and folded as usual. The other day, LB put them on and wore them to work, NOT NOTICING THE FOOT LONG HOLE IN THEM as he put them on. He briefly tried to blame me when he got home, but I pointed out that not noticing a hole THAT big in the pants you're stepping into was no one's fault but his own. He capitulated, without admitting defeat. I had a laugh at his expense.

Boundary Waters 2009 - Part 3

We stayed at our second camp on Cherokee Lake for 3 nights. The morning after setting up camp, we made a short day trip to Long Island Lake. When we were renting our canoe, the outfitter who was dealing with us gave us some recommendations; this was one of them. The eastern half of this lake’s shoreline had burned in the big fire of 2006, and it sounded worth a see. We only packed the food pack – so we didn’t have to leave it unattended in camp – and only had 3 very short portages, so this day was not nearly as exhausting as the day before. We left around 10AM and reached our destination around noon. On the way there, we had to lift over a muddy beaver dam (although I was able to avoid the mud as was Freki – he’s very delicate and always steps around mud and puddles). One of our portages also had a very muddy spot that LB plopped right into. Another portage had a gorgeous rocky stream that we stopped at briefly. When we got to Long Island Lake, we looked for a spot to stop and lunch. We found a large rock or tiny island, depending on how you look at it, right across from the burn-down area.

It was a very nice, sunny spot, and the water around it was quite deep. Freki set off swimming away from the rock immediately – oftentimes when he doesn’t have an objective while swimming (such as fetching or eating water bugs), he just determinedly sets off perpendicular to shore as if he’s never returning – and we had to call him in to keep an eye on him. He spent the whole time paddling around the water with hardly a pause.


LB and I had a nice lunch until some bee decided to come buzzing around my head. Eventually LB was able to kill it, although I did wish he hadn’t used the cheese knife. Eh, more protein. Then, as LB was cleaning off the knife, I looked over to see a mass of bloody black thing on LB's ankle. It was a pile of leeches feasting on his flesh. The blood drained from my face, near as quickly as it was draining from his ankle, as I whimpered and squeaked "Leeches!" while pointing at the insidious mass. He found several more throughout the day, some were hiding in the black sole of his Chacos, and one huge gigantic bloated one was spotted by me at the last portage on the way home. After lunch, I took some pictures then we packed up and returned to camp (back over the beaver dam OF DOOM AND LEECHES).



When we got to camp, it was only 2:30PM, so we spent the afternoon relaxing a bit. We waded in the water a bit, washed up, and tossed Freki’s water Frisbee.


As we dried off I had LB rub the knots out of my shoulders for a while on our sunny rock on the beach. We had our dinner and got a relaxing night’s sleep.

We spent the next day in camp; we slept in, then had oatmeal with dried fruit for breakfast, which was DELICIOUS (we mixed the fruit with the oatmeal before adding the hot water, so they remoisturized and warmed a bit). As I was starting up the Jetboil to boil water for our breakfast, I felt some small thing hit the back of my head. I paused briefly, thinking, oh something must have fallen out of the tree. Then something hit my shoulder, and shortly after a pine bud flew past my arm and impacted the ground. I then heard the loud chatter of an angry red squirrel. I was under attack! Freki soon came to my rescue and barked up the tree that the poor little squirrel was inhabiting.


After breakfast, we played card games and water fetch with Freki most of the day, then hung out by the campfire late into the evening. It was nice to have a lazy day around camp to work out all the sore muscles and recuperate for the next day's travel.

The next morning we headed out to our third and final campsite, of which I do not have a picture. We paddled back to Sawbill Lake the same way we had come to Cherokee Lake, but this time there was only one leech (that we saw) on Freki, since we were both much more cautious when crossing beaver dams. Our third campsite was nestled in the woods and had separate areas for the fire and for the tent. We spent some time swimming here, but mostly we slept and prepared to leave early Saturday morning. We woke up early the next morning to the sound of a deer rutting off in the woods, although we never saw him. We skipped breakfast and paddled just under 2 miles back to Sawbill Outfitters. On our way out, we stopped by a cafe in Tofte to grab the most delicious lattes and pecan cinnamon rolls I've ever had (eating naught but granola bars and freeze-dried food for a week had no effect on their flavor, I'm sure). LB drove the whole way back, while Freki slept and I got some pictures of the scenery, although unfortunately it was too foggy to get a picture of Lake Superior.



Despite its shaky start, our vacation was great for everyone. The weather was perfect (mid-70's, sunny, no rain all week), there were few bugs, and we got a lot of fresh air and exercise. We were all exhausted for a few days after coming back, but it was worth it.

Previous Episodes:
Boundary Waters 2009 - Part 1
Boundary Waters 2009 - Part 2

Boundary Waters 2009 - Part 2

Our first morning in the BWCA, Freki and I woke up around 7:30. LB wanted to sleep some more, so we hiked up to the point near camp and took a few pictures.




We then hiked through the woods a little bit, where I found some wild raspberries that we decided to have with breakfast.



After packing up camp, we set off for a long day of portaging. We ended up portaging almost a mile, total, but it was supposed to be longer; one of our portages was made very short thanks to a beaver dam. My pack weighed close to a third of my body weight, and was about twice my width. As I trekked through the woods, I found myself often pondering Sherpa guides and wondering how they avoided shoulder knots. After the last portage, we paddled down Cherokee Creek, which, at one point, had a beaver dam that we had to lift the boat over. Now, I was paddling the front of the canoe, lacking the skill to steer it. The person in the front is responsible for landing the canoe by stepping one foot out when land is near, without tipping the boat. I had to do this with the beaver dam, which was approximately one foot thick. I missed. The water was easily over my head, but I at least hit the dam. My right leg went somewhat through it, and I was in muck up to my hip (there is probably a beaver cursing my name as she tries to fix the hole I created). I somehow flung my left leg out of the boat, likely over my own head, so as not to tip it, and then fought slippery muck to get up onto the dam. Eventually we got the boat over, and I was almost dry before we made camp. When we pulled the canoe up on shore, I noticed 2 leeches clinging to the bottom of it. I FREAKED.RIGHT.OUT. Because, dude. The three phobias I have, paralyzing, mind-freaking phobias? Bees, ticks, and LEECHES. ZOMG. After putting down the canoe I excused myself, ran off into the woods and checked VERY THOROUGHLY everywhere the beaver dam had touched (thankfully, I had no leeches on me - what I would have done had I found them, I'm not sure, since I'm afraid to touch them). After this, I quietly regained my composure and shorts, then went back down to the beach. There was a gorgeous sloped rock into the beach, facing the sunset, where LB and I finished the wine, cheese & salami. I had a quick wade to wash out my mucky clothes, then we built a great fire (some kind people before us had gathered quite a bit of wood) and hung out there until bedtime.


Next Episode: Holy Hell More Leeches!, Combative Squirrels, and More Nature Crap!

Previous Episode:
Boundary Waters 2009 - Part 1

Coming up next:
Boundary Waters 2009 - Part 3

Boundary Waters 2009 - Part 1

So I alluded to being busy in my previous post. For a week at the beginning of September, LB, Freki and I took a trip to the Boundary Waters. Oh, except the day we were supposed to leave? One of our pipes burst a leak. Fan-freaking-tastic. So my father in law came over and fixed it, but we ended up leaving the next morning at 7AM, after packing furiously until about 3AM. (We had originally wanted to leave around midnight, then take turns sleeping in the car). I surprised myself with my endurance by driving to our entry point - nearly the entire length of Minnesota - with only 2 pee breaks, on 3 hours of sleep. What can I say – I’m a champ. Or a glutton for punishment. I’m not sure which.

We got to Sawbill Outfitters around 4 to pick up our permit and rent our canoe. When we picked up our permit, we were required to watch a cheesy video, most likely produced in the early 90’s, about not feeding bears or leaving trash or taking things. Finally we could go down to the water and load the boat:


After getting to the send-off, about 0.02 seconds were wasted before Freki decided to try to get into the water. He wasn’t so sure about jumping in from the dock-like send-off


but quickly found a way around that:


We finally hit the water around 4:30PM. LB said some insulting things about my paddling, and I informed him I’d never been properly trained and it had been at least a decade since I’d set foot in a canoe. He backed off and instructed me on proper technique. Within a half hour he was remarking on what a quick learner I am, and I was like, "DUH, I am TEH AWSUMNESS!" After harassing a few other paddlers, we learned that a certain campsite was likely still unclaimed, and made our way there. It was gorgeous!


Freki played in the water and angred the little red squirrel who made his/her home way too close to camp. S/he was chattering at us the whole time we were there.



After setting up camp, we ate some cheese, salami & crackers that we had packed for lunch, but obviously we had eaten lunch on the road. We also pulled out a nalgene full of the newest cheap wine that my mother was obsessing about and had given us a few weeks ago (we figured it’d make great camp wine – it could only get less sweet with oxidation). While eating dinner and building a kind of piddly fire, we noticed a family of beavers across the way building a lodge. At first, we only saw one beaver. The family leader got curious about us and swam up to check us out.


After s/he was satisfied we weren’t trouble, other adults and young came out to assist in the building. We let Freki play in the water too long, and he never quite dried off, since it was quite humid that night, poor puppy. I think he was OK, though, thanks to his thick undercoat; his skin was probably dry.

Next episode: Wild Raspberries, Nature Pictures, ZOMG LEECHES, and more!

Coming up next:
Boundary Waters 2009 - Part 2
Boundary Waters 2009 - Part 3

A Really Good Grill

I am sitting here trying to figure out why I am so relaxed and happy today (I even got a "What the HELL is with you and your perky perkiness, who is this woman and what have you done with my wife?" from LB this morning.)

I mean, this weekend was not all that great. Thursday was a normal work day, then I came home to an evening of weeding and raking and bagging and other general yardwork. Friday I relaxed, played some WoW, and did some laundry. Saturday I worked at the store for 7 hours in sandals that gave me blisters. Sunday I worked at the store some more. I got little to no sleep and was tired as hell all weekend. Not a super fab relaxing weekend, right? Or was it?

Friday night LB and I grilled some of our signature Super Stinky Burgers* and hung out by our fire pit with beer. Saturday night LB took me out for a birthday dinner, then we came home and watched fireworks. Sunday, LB's best friend came over and we grilled some brats, then hung out with beer again, playing fetch with Freki and shooting the shit. Hell I was tired all weekend not primarily because of work, but because I had so much fun sitting out next to the grill that I stayed up way too late.

I realized today that even though I worked like a dog on most of my vacation, I still had a great weekend. Sitting down with your people, having a beer (or three), chatting over a hot grill with good food can really change the day from something stressful to something fun and relaxing.

So here's to a good grill, because really, it can make all the difference between a good weekend and a crappy one. Well, that and beer.

*Grill a burger as usual. Place thick slices of onion on top of burger when nearly cooked. Slather on some minced garlic and jalapeno. Top with cheese, preferably muenster and pepper jack. Remove from grill when cheese is melty. Toast bun. Enjoy with or without condiments. Later on and well into the next day pop breath mints like they're candy, in between multiple tooth brushings.

The Truth is Brutal

LB(from the bathroom): Aaaaw. *heavy sigh*

QR: Huh?

LB: I was just weighing myself.

QR: That scale weighs light by about 8 pounds, you know.

LB: (imagine high-pitched scandalized valley girl shriek) Uh! No it doesn't! Fuck you!

The messenger! She...has..beeeen...shoooooooooooooot....ugh *dies*

2 asses, 3 cushions, 0 seats

Ugh. I can't sit on my own couch. Why? My husband's ass is on one cushion, and his paintball gear is spread akimbo on the other two. I told him I could sit next to him if he would please move his gear, or I could go upstairs and find a seat at my computer (he hates when I go play on the computer and ignore him.) He was silent for like 5 minutes, so I went upstairs to the computer. He gets mad that I'm going off to ignore him. I get mad and yell that had he not just given up and sat there like a lazy lump, maybe I'd sit next to him and spend time with him. And he still isn't moving the gear. And can't understand what I'm mad about, since clearly, his anger over something he could change is entirely rational, and my anger over him blaming me for it is psychotic. Clearly. (The best part? "You didn't even say please or ask nicely!" Ummmm, yes I did. Selective memory, I'm sure.)

Fridays are busy!

ll this random crap just got dumped on my lap and I think I'll be busy until bedtime, so for now, here are some Freki pics that I just uploaded. Also if anyone can tell me how to get blogger to actually post a SMALL picture when you check the SMALL box, that would be fantastic. I just don't have the time to individually change the size of every picture, for every post. kthxbai.

Chillin on the stairs

Freki Enjoys a Bully Stick


I'm not sure what this was about; I found this picture on my phone after leaving it in LB's care.

The Obligatory Valentine's Day Post

So I don't celebrate Valentine's Day. I made this decision, ironically, earlier in the year that LB and I had started dating. I say this is ironic because LB loved Valentine's Day, and it was the first time he had a girlfriend on Valentine's Day.

But I have moral qualms (I have qualms with quite a few things, actually; I am qualmy):

1. V-Day is very much a Hallmark Holiday, in my opinion. I mean, it really doesn't have much to do with the historical V-Day (more on that later), so basically it's a day to show someone you love them because the dominant paradigm says you must. I don't want that for myself or my relationship; I want to show my love, and I want my lover's love shown to me, every day. That doesn't mean we can't do something extra special for one another now and then, but I don't want it to be because of social pressure. I want no pressure involved; I want it to come directly from the heart.
   
2. I don't need flowers and chocolates and jewelry to signify love (nor does LB need champagne and steak dinner and lingerie). All I want is for someone to treat me right, and treat me well, 364.25 days of the year. Too often is V-Day used as an excuse to give meaningless crap to someone to make up for less-than-stellar performance as a partner and lover the rest of the year. I really hate the commodification of love and sex that has gone on around V-Day; it cheapens them both. I'd like mine unadulterated by consumerism, if at all possible.
   
3. V-Day is very exclusionary and has gotten to the point of, "If you don't have SOMEone to celebrate with you're worthless so stay home and sulk and eat ice cream." I think that's such bullshit, and I don't want my celebrations to make someone else feel like crap because they can't participate in the socially required chocoflowershininess that is V-Day.
   
4. Valentine's day originated from the Catholic Feast of Saint Valentine. We have feasts to honor various saints throughout the year. The two Saint Valentines who were martyred really had nothing to do with romantic love (although one Saint Valentine was rumored to have been martyred for performing Christian marriages in Rome). I don't think the orgy of heteronormative consumerism that happens every February 14th is very respectful of this feast day; the meaning of honoring a saint has become completely and utterly divorced from this holiday, even more so than for the feasts of Christmas, Easter, and All Saint's (Halloween) have. At least they retain some of their original focus. V-Day does not.

When I explained all this to LB early in our relationship so he didn't feel the need to do anything for V-Day, at first he was disappointed but then he decided to do "Random I Love You" days every now and then; I do them too because I thought it was a great idea. Randomly, throughout the year, because we love one another, we'll each surprise the other with a special date, or some sort of token of affection (one that actually means something and not generic like chocolates), etc etc.

That given, I have a big BUUUUUT....LB and I DID go on a date this year for V-Day. We try to go on nice dates every couple of months, and this year we got a mailer for one of our favorite restaurants; they were doing a special, fixed-price menu for Valentine's Day. We weren't going to do it, because we don't celebrate V-Day. Then we saw the menu. Check this shit out:

Appetizer
Mussels with Sherry and Saffron -or-
Trio of Bruschetta: Pate with braised leek; Brie with fig preserves and balsamic vinegar; White bean with arugula and peccorino cheese

Soup or Salad
Baked French Onion Soup -or- Torpedo Endive Salad with Roquefort and Walnuts

Entree
Beef Tenderloin "au poivre". Cracked Pepper and Cognac Cream with Lyonnaise Potatoes and Broccolini -or-
Veal Tenderloin Oscar.Lump Crab, Asparagus, and Béarnaise, with Fingerlings, -or-
Rabbit Tenderloin. Spatzel and Tomato -or-
Heritage Tomato filled with Vegetable Risotto

Dessert
Three Tarts: Lemon Curd, Mocha French Silk, and Berry Custard -or-
Crème Brule with Berries

When we saw that, we decided we had to go, moral qualms be damned (damn good food will beat out moral qualms any day in our book). For the appetizers, LB had the mussels and I had the bruschetta. The pate was excellent; usually I don't like pate but it was well spiced, and didn't taste too livery. The brie with fig was also excellent. We both had the french onion soup which was fabulous. For the entree, I had the beef au poivre and LB had the rabbit. We both prefered mine; the beef was perfectly done, and the combination of buttery sauce with the potatoes lyonnaise (which had BACON in them omg) made for the most mouth-wattering bite of food I have had in years. His rabbit was good to, it just couldn't hold a candle to the beef au poivre. The spatzle on his dish was, however, to die for. For the dessert we got one of each and shared; dessert was pretty good but nothing to write home about. Overall, we were glad we went, and even toasted the evening, but adding the qualifier "we're still not celebrating Valentine's Day" at the end of our toast.

Ladies' Man

The town our store is in, because it is like the retirement capitol of the world, has a lot of old people. So a huge chunk of our clientele is old people with foot issues, who may or may not have their faculties intact.

So I was working the store yesterday with LB, and this 800 year old woman comes in with her daughter and granddaughter. She needs special shoes for her foot issues, so LB helped her since he’s kind of an expert in that stuff. They find a pair of shoes for her, but one of them needs to be stretched. While LB is helping her, she’s asking him all sorts of personal questions…like “oh where do you live?” and, “what time do you get off work?”

LB went to stretch the shoe, and while he was gone, she asked her granddaughter something that I couldn’t hear, and the granddaughter says “Well I don’t know, ask her, she’s right there.” I walk up and say “Is there something you’d like to ask me?” “Yeah, who ARE you?” Granddaughter laughs and clarifies that she would like to know my relation to LB, and I said, yes, we’re married.

LB came back and I rung up her shoes and some socks she was also getting. As her daughter was paying, she turns to me and says “What’s your name?” “QueenRandom” “How old are you?” “Twenty-seven.” “Oh! Oh well OK” I think she was surprised by my age; I think she thought I was quite a bit younger. She then looks at my husband, who is in the back of the store and can’t hear us, and exclaims, “I’ll take him!”

LB: Charming the pants off of old ladies since 1980.

In which I introduce myself

So. I'm in the third year of getting my doctorate in Biochemistry and Molecular Biology with a focus in Cancer Biology. For anyone who cares, I study the Ras and TGFb pathways. Mostly I play with embryo- and cancer-derived cells all day long, interrupted by brief forays onto the internet and endless meetings.

When I'm not sacrificing my soul for science, I amuse myself by reading, playing with my furbabies, and bantering with my slaveboy husband, who for the purposes of this blog shall be called Lucky Bastard (LB).

About the animals. For now, I have 3. The first addition to our family was Max Power, who has his own theme song thanks to Homer Simpson. Max is the queen bitch. He gets what he wants, when he wants it, from whomever he wants it, NOW. But he is a benevolent ruler. He rewards my indentured servitude with cuddles and mice which he has hunted down and killed. He's secretly a big loverboy though.





























A little under a year after we adopted Max, we adopted a companion kitty for him, Milo. Poor Milo is content at the low end of the intelligence bell curve. His favorite activities include demanding to be petted while you poop and staring off into space for long lengths of time. He is a very sweet boy but is also a bit skittish. He can hold his own in a fight scarily well, and the dog, who outweighs him by 56 pounds, is scared of him.





























Finally, just over a year ago we adopted our dog, Freki. He is part black lab, part german shepherd, and part "other". He was rescued as a puppy with his 5 siblings; their eyes were barely open and his mother had been hit and killed by a car. We're very fortunate to have him! He is a very loving dog, with much too much energy and much too much intelligence for us to keep up with. He loves playing in the snow, barking at passersby, and cuddling his baby. He is also a fetch maniac.

A Day in the Life

You're welcome?

Today I was heading to a seminar. I got on the elevator to the 15th floor, and two important-looking gentlemen got on behind me. ILG1 is discussing where they're going and how to get there, while ILG2, with his Hilton brochures in hand, shuffles through his maps. They exit on the 10th floor. As ILG2 exits and shuffles his maps some more, ILG1 picks up his breif case, turns to me, and says, "Thank you."

I smiled and nodded because words escaped me.


Willpower=-1

I went to Caribou Coffee to get a snack, because my stomach is informing me that it cannot wait 4 more hours to get more food. As I am entering the line, here reads my inner monologue: "OK. I'll get the Dulce de Leche coffe as a treat but I'll have something healthier to eat. What do they have? Muffins...biscotti...cookies...Oh! Yogurt. I'll have banana strawberry yogurt." I then advanced to the counter and immediately said, with no interruptions from my inner monologue, "I'll have a medium Dulce de Leche and a chocolate chunk muffin." To which my inner monologue replied, "The Hell? We wanted yogurt! Stupid bitch."


Things Heard from the Kitchen

Lucky Bastard was in the kitchen preparing himself a snack.

From the dining room I heard, "Fuck you, spatula!"

I daren't ask.