California:Illinois

Since pulling a Jed Clampett about two and a half years ago...you know, packing up the kinfolk and moving, I have thought a little bit about the differences in the life we knew in California and the one we know now in Illinois. I could make a long list of differences as well as pros/cons, and you all are more than welcome to chime in in the "Comments" section to voice your opinion as to why one is better than the other. The reality is that we had amazing experiences in both places and right now, home is in the Midwest. The freezing Midwest. Where it might just snow again this weekend. Seriously. It's enough already.

But I digress. Back to the differences in these two states. Today, I found two things that seem to nail the differences. Of course, they are food-related.

Psycho-Donuts

Those are donut fries, people! This may, in fact, be the greatest food creation EVER!

The Meatloaf Bakery

That is meat, people. Who does this with meat? And why can I not WAIT to try it?

Now the question, what state is the home of Psycho-Donuts and which proudly has the Meatloaf Bakery within its borders? It should be fairly obvious. CA is home to Psycho Donuts and IL proudly boasts the Meatloaf Bakery. And I think the two say a lot about their respective home states. The donut joint is creative, tempting and completely insane and so is California. The meat joint is, well, I'm not sure there are words, other than to say something so homey like that just makes sense, and so it is with Illinois. Things happen here that make you say "Whaaa...t?" but then it all makes sense. I have not sampled the goods at either of these places, but this much I know, I'll be going to both. Next time that I am in downtown Chicago, I'll be hitting the Meatloaf Bakery. I have got to get a meaty cupcake. And then when I'm in the Bay Area, it's off to Campbell for a stop at Psycho Donuts. Isn't food awesome?! I don't think there's a problem it can't solve.

Although we'll see if the orthopedic surgeon I have to see next Friday can solve my knee issues with food. Yep, my follow up with the doctor today lasted all of five minutes. He assessed me quickly and referred me to the orthopedic surgeon. Excellent. I've Google'd far too much about arthroscopic surgery now and am convinced I would like NOT to have it. Hoping the surgeon will have some alternatives for me.

Heartland humiliation

It's been a particularly good couple of days. Sunday was really good. Long, as most Mormon Sundays are, but long in a good way. I serve with some really great men in our bishopric and we were running on all cylinders it seemed yesterday and there was a very decent spiritual feast. I appreciate the way I am challenged to improve as I serve with these men and as we serve our ward family. Anyway, capped the evening with another good episode of "The Amazing Race." I'm digging this 14th season as it has been really good and the teams not too annoying.

Worked from home today and it was one of those Mondays where everything chugged along. Everything clicked today, which can only portend that something is going to go horribly wrong, especially on a Monday.

So late this afternoon I made my way to our local blood donation facility. They had called a couple of days ago seeking my blood for a drive in a couple of weeks. I'll be in China so I said I'd come in earlier and hence my appointment this afternoon. I was prepared - I had a list of all the countries I've been to/through in the last three years so we didn't have to play the geography game. I also made sure that my current dalliance with Naproxin was not going to be an issue - it wasn't. So I'm there and the nurse/bloodletter takes me into that private room to do the question drill/geography review and finger stabbing for the iron test (that has got to be the WORST part of giving blood) and she asks me why I'm taking Naproxin. I told her and she asks if the doctor has talked to me about surgery and I said he mentioned it and I'd know more at my next appointment later this week. Senorita slammed her book closed faster than AIG collapsed and that was it. I would not be giving blood today. She very sweetly said, "You're going to need to keep all your blood. You'll need it." I was taken aback. I mean I'm not even sure if I have to have the surgery and it's arthroscopic, for Pete's sake. I mean it's not like they are going to hack half my leg off to shave a little bit of this lame meniscus (note to self - do not Google Image 'meniscus surgery' anymore - it's not helping).

So I was shuffled off in front of several other donors, whose average age was about 900, and they each had that somewhat judgmental look that people get when you get rejected from something like donating blood. You know the look - you can almost hear them thinking, 'I wonder what he's got.' I probably should have coughed or faked a seizure right then and there to make it worth their while.

I was bummed to not be able to do this. I tell you what I better get referred to the ortho for surgery on Friday now. I gotta have something to show for this foolishness.

Did the doctor really say surgery?

A couple of months ago, I once again tripped on my shoe laces while running (it was one of those rare days during the evil Chicagoland winter where I could run outside without bundling up like Randy, the kid brother in "A Christmas Story") and when I fell (right in front of my running idol's house while he was standing outside to see me use the street to wipe my face), I slammed down on my right knee with all my weight. End result was some bleeding and torn running pants. Or so I thought.

I stayed off it about a week and then went back to some light running on the stupid treadmill. However, I began to notice anytime I was on the plane, seated, that my knee was a whole lot of agony. Relief was only found when I could get up and walk around. Fast forward to last weekend, I ran four miles outside and had to call the stunningly patient SML to come pick me up. The right knee was killing me and now it was making a somewhat funky noise. The pain when seated was still there as well. I was able to get into my doctor on Monday, which stunned me - normally, there's no getting in there for at least three months unless you are bleeding out your eyes - I think my doctor is practicing for National Health (go Canada!!). X-rays were taken and it was quickly determined there was no fracture but given the pain in my knee joint, the doctor suspected a meniscal tear. His take is that it is probably going to require some arthriscopic surgical attention. Outstanding!

So I am on a two-week run of an anti-inflammatory and then it's off to the orthopedic guy to determine if it really is going to require surgery. The fact that I am looking at a procedure like this is so funny to me. I've spent my whole life avoiding doctors and all things medical. The stunningly patient SML and I were talking the other night about our family's forays into surgeries, procedures, etc., and I was proud to note that I've had nothing to do with those things. And now, because I decided to lose weight precisely so I wouldn't have a heart attack or a fun case of diabetes, I may finally go under the knife, or laser-y thing, in this case.

The best part is that my doctor says I can still run. Excellent. Let's see how much more damage I can do. I'm all for it.

Another reason to love the BBC

Reasons to love the BBC are myriad in my book. I think BBC America is awesome. Here's more proof why it's brilliant (from BBC3):
I think that guy was me before I dropped the extra poundage.

It's been an awesome day here in Chicagoland. The angry, angry shebeast that is winter in Chicago looks like it's truly on her last withered legs. Not a cloud in the blue sky and there was a glowing disc in the sky that apparently is called the sun that teased one and all with something we aren't particularly familiar with - warmth. I got up and made a rocking scrambled egg and hot italian sausage pizza for the family breakfast. It could not have been easier to make (note to self - use a whole wheat dough next time) and it was really good. Here's the "fruit" of that labor:

After that, I had some running to do. And not on that instrument of sheer boredom, the treadmill. It was incredible to be outside. I ran to our little 'downtown' as I was on a mission to get the muffin top pan as well as another pair of running shorts (as I left one pair in a hotel room in Honolulu - I can only hope that they are being put to good use as I am never going to see them again). It was a nice 4K jaunt downtown until I ran into the lame local St. Patrick's Day Parade. I was not festooned in green and was clearly the odd man out in that parade conga line. But who cares...I had shorts and pans to buy. I was successful on the shorts but no-go on the pan. Turns out I am not the only one obsessed with muffin tops. The lady at our local Sur La Table informed me that they sell out of them as soon as they put them out. Who even knew? I'll have to stalk the joint on any given Thursday when new shipments arrive. Duly noted on the calendar.

The stunningly patient SML, CAL, and the Boy met me downtown so we could get SML's cell phone fixed and then it was off for lunch. We believe we have found the closest thing that we are going to get to that temple of simple burger perfection that is In-n-Out Burger. Thy name is Meatheads. One could argue that it's a pretty close rip-off of the In-n-Out. Fairly simple menu (even down to the red and white lettering), everything appears to be fresh and not frozen, and it tastes good, particularly the cajun fries. Friendly staff and crowds of people lined up for a burger. The stunningly patient SML even proclaimed it may be better than the In-n-Out. I would argue that the long, long winter has affected her, but I would say that this place absolutely fills the burger ticket as we remain here in the Midwest.

Looking forward to a quiet night but man, it's been a good day. Love, love, love days like this.