I feeling cranky and maybe I should make a list. Actually the Buddhist in me says, “Let it go,” but that motherf*cker can shut his f*cking pie hole.

1. The motherf*cking birds are flying into the motherf*cking chimney again, making the neighborhood a motherf*cking parking lot every evening until early f*cking October.
2. Work was surprisingly light the last couple of weeks, but I knew that meant all of the customers were out on summer vacation and they’d all come back at once. Guess what f*cking happened earlier this week?
3. Teddy Kennedy passed away. And motherf*cking Republicans can’t take a break from pissing me the f*ck off.
4. They were playing wimp rock or wimp rap or I don’t know what the f*ck you call it at the gym, and jeebus it makes me cranky. That and motherf*cking Beyonce. For some reason I loooooves me some Kelly Rowlands but I can’t stand motherf*cking Beyonce.
5. My brother-in-law says Jay the Contractor is going to require architectural drawings before doing any more work. Well, last year Jay the Contractor was telling me how f*cking useless it was to use a motherf*cking architect. Whatever.
6. My motherf*cking blood sugar is still probably all jacked up from my pre-cholesterol test fasting. The first thing I ate after getting back to the parking lot was a Chocolate Eclair which was really pretty good but probably didn’t do all that much for my jacked-up blood chemistry either.
7. I just feel like there’s nothing positive going on in my life and there’s nothing to look forward to and that’s what I get for eating a motherf*cking salad for dinner after fasting for a cholesterol test the motherf*cking night before.

Maybe I should just start drinking again. That almost always made me feel better because I’m a happy drunk. Too bad I’m always looking at beer and thinking about how many motherf*cking calories it has rather than how good it tastes. I think I’ll have a cheeseburger instead.

First off, I now have a new nickname. To make it official, I have to dislike it and complain, right? At the burger club I mentioned that my sister calls me Sashi (a shorter version of my first name, Hisashi) and so most people who know me through her calls me that. I’ve had other nicknames as well. I took a fly-fishing class once and the guy just kept calling me “Joe.” It didn’t bother me so much, and I knew who he was talking about when he was talking about Joe. Anyway, I was telling this story about my nickname, and somehow they thought I said “Chachi” and I told the story of how the TV show Joanie Loves Chachi was supposedly the highest rated sitcom in Korea because chachi is the Korean word for penis. This appears to be false since they never aired Joanie Loves Chachi in Korea, but the nickname appears to have stuck, at least with some of the Recreate Fitness burger crew.

So tomorrow I have my cholesterol test and I had to quit eating by 8PM. I blew it by 15 minutes, but I was still at the gym and my dinner consisted of a carton of Muscle Milk. Not only am I starving, but a geek blog I usually read has an interview with Alton Brown and a video of a 27-foot chocolate fountain. Not only that, but the guy I called up to confirm the veracity of the word,”chachi,” is telling me that he’s dating and not only is it going well but he’s going to fancy restaurants! The universe is taunting me.

But turns out that I did use the right kettlebells yesterday and I did fairly well in the old man category. Hooray for small victories. We’ll see how much my blood looks like butter tomorrow, though.

Here I was, thinking that I was going to have YET ANOTHER HAMBURGER instead of eating a salad for dinner, but an illness ran smack into my plans. Right now I’m just hoping that Mike, who had a heart valve replacement a couple of weeks ago, is doing OK.

I’m feeling kind of cranky right now and I figure it’ll be even worse tomorrow when I’m fasting for a cholesterol test. I mean, really, FASTING? They were a bit confused by the whole thing at the doctor’s office, telling me I could have black coffee, but no I figure the real measure of my cholesterol would require me to eat something closer to my real diet, or a dozen Voodoo doughnuts, whichever came first.

So today’s workout was a total failure. The main problem was that I screwed up at the end and it just made me think of all the awfulness that came before. I ripped a hole in my shirt with the weightlifting belt we use to add weight to pullups. I was told, after I finished, that my front squats weren’t deep enough. And finally, the workout of the day was supposed to use two kettlebells, one of 24kg and one of 36kg. I finished quicker than I thought I would and realized I was only using 32kg for the heavier one and was quite disappointed. This is why I don’t like races in general. You build them up and one little thing can screw it all up. I know, why be a pessimist, but the surveys have shown that pessimists are much more likely to be correct at predicting outcomes. So there.

I just saw District 9 with Sean and Jeff and I have to say, WOW. I didn’t know what to expect and it had a lot more story than I expected, and I heard a lot of the dialog was ad-libbed. It was pretty darn amazing.

I went downtown to get some new gym shoes and I also took my holey sweater back to Nordstroms. There were a bunch of irregular holes in the sweater that didn’t look like bug holes because bug holes are usually round. In fact, they looked like I’d been wrestling with a porcupine or something. Unfortunately for me, it was my $155 “date sweater” that really hadn’t worked out for me at all. In fact, I’d only worn it a couple of times before I found the holes. I walked into Nordstroms to ask them if they had any ideas, figuring the sweater was just trash now anyway, and they gave me my money back! Of course I turned around and bought some shoes with the money. I don’t buy that much clothing, but I usually just buy everything at Nordstroms and I guess I picked the right store.

I did find out, however, that Muscle Milk isn’t enough for me as a meal replacement. I noticed I was fairly cranky on the way downtown. But then again, people running stop signs in their car, flocks of douchebags, and dogs on the trolley don’t put me in a good mood even when I’m at my best. Fortunately, I supplemented that with a chili dog, and had sliders and tacos (and part of Sean’s hamburger) for dinner. So much for pretending to be on a diet.

First off, let me steal my review of the burger from Laurelhurst Market from my blog posting at Portland Burgers.

My sister built this burger up, but I’m not quite sure it’s better than the one at the Slow Bar, or as good as our gold standard at Lovely Hula Hands. Laurelhurst Market is a meat market during the day and that isn’t to say that you’re going to find a bunch of people looking to hook up, unless of course they’re looking to hook up with a brisket. The meat was great, though I still think someone from the anti-salt council has gotten to yet another chef. There’s only one burger on the menu, a bacon cheeseburger with, “fries, pimento cheese, and homemade everything.” I have to say it was delicious. The bun was buttery, the bacon was the smokiest perfection I can remember, the pickles were sweet and crisp, and the pimento cheese was, well, pimento cheese. And therein lies my biggest problem with this burger. Who in the hell told them it was OK to take the standard cheddar and replace it with PIMENTO FREAKING CHEESE? I think they took a winning hamburger and made it into a hamburger for the odd foodie. I say odd foodie because of the PIMENTO FRIGGING CHEESE. My dear god, I’m an Asian guy and you’re going to have to introduce me to the ethnic group that has the official line on PIMENTO because as far as I know it’s some whiskey-tango concoction that gets foisted off on you at cheesy cocktail parties.

But I digress. The fries were crispy and wonderful. Do not miss the dessert. My blackberry and peach crisp came with basil ice cream, which was a bit different but tasty, and the one bite of the cheesecake and blueberries I had made question my judgement. That homemade cheesecake was awesome.

So there you have it. A burger that may be the best if I can get over the pimento cheese, made by the chef who came from Lovely Hula Hands. We’re going to have to go back to Lovely Hula Hands to make sure that the change in chefs didn’t take the best burger in town down a notch.

So today I went to see the doctor about my recent stomach aches that we both decided weren’t anything to worry about yet, and he gave me one of most guys’ least favorite examinations. But while I wouldn’t go out of my way looking for that sort of thing, I didn’t find it nearly as unpleasant as having someone scrape at my gumline with a sharpened metal hook.

In any case, he (or the medical assistant, really) gave me some news that had me SHOCKED AND DISMAYED until I got home. I absolultely refuse to be any less than 5’9″ (69″ or 175.26cm). In fact, I’m usually an inch taller first thing in the morning. I took my shoes off and used their measuring gadget and I was only 5’8.5″! I checked when I got home with a tape measure and I was 5’9″ again. I think maybe they have it adjusted for people with 1/2″ shoes on. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

Maybe I need to get some gravity boots and stop lifting heavy weights. That might work. That and getting a nice Kim Jong Il hairstyle.

So this week the burger crew went to Laurelhurst Market, where my sister said she had the best burger she’s ever had. I think it was great, but I’m not sure if it was any better than the Slow Bar or the best Sean and i remember having at Lovely Hula Hands. In any case, the burger was great, the flavor was great, I wish the meat had more flavor, I think someone was afraid of salt (though certainly not whoever cooked the tasty fries), and DON’T MISS THE DESSERT.

Sorry, but that’ll have to do for now. I’m about to pass out.

OK, first I have to say that was an excellent burger I just had. It may not be for everyone: the meat was mixed with bulgolgi meat and was fairly sweet, but the cheese and the kimchee paired perfectly with it.

Jae was incredibly nice as well. That wasn’t all I ate. We split some “Seoul Sliders” as they call them, “Bulgogi BBQ beef, shredded nappa cabbage, griddled onions, crisp bean sprouts and spicy mayo.” Jae even gave me a free short rib taco and it was all excellent. My buddy Il was talking about this even before he ever went and now he’s a regular that they see coming several times a week. I’ve been following them on twitter for a month and I should have stopped by sooner.

Tomorrow we’re headed to Laurelhurst Market and I’m hoping that they can match the fun of KOi Fusion if not the flavor. But as they said on my silly Japanese TV show last night (poorly translated by me), “Good food is good because you eat it with your friends or with your family,” and we hit this place with most of the burger crew in attendance. Sean, Melissa, and Jeff were there and we even had Matty G stop by as we were headed out. So no matter what, at least we’ll be hanging with friends.

Perhaps I need a new hobby. Looking at dating sites is probably not a great idea. I sit around and read little things into everyone’s profile, showing me why I really ought to not date them. Too religious, too superstitious, too crunchy, or just too particular and that’s why they’re single and close to my age.

That’s why I’m thinking of going back to my old hobby of eating as many cheeseburgers as I want. Which isn’t quite the case yet because I’m back in delayed gratification mode, though I’m not sure where the gratification is going to come from if I delay it. Today, for example, I was staring at some free doughnuts and trying to get other people to eat them so I wouldn’t. I suppose if I ate everything I wanted, I could start looking into master’s level sumo wrestling.

I am, however, thinking of going on another run of hamburgers because Koi Fusion, the Korean taco truck, is making a special hamburger this week. And Thursday we’re supposed to go to Laurelhurst Market. Well, I’ve convinced one person to try the hamburger tomorrow, though Sean (who has fallen under the spell of cheeseburgers after listening to me talk about them) is wary. Really, “Korean taco truck” sounds a bit shady if you think about it, but my sister swears it’s good.

So, if you see my picture on, say Match.com or something and think it looks good, you should probably ask me how I look NOW after I start on my new cheeseburger diet that I abandoned about a year ago. Or not. I’ve been on a few dating sites for fifteen years now and I’ve really gotten nowhere. Like they tell me on the intarwebs, “You’re doing it wrong.”

I had a great start to this Monday. My stupid alarm clock has this weird feature. If you turn the power off, it stops counting the time like it was an old-school mechanical electric clock. BUT IT’S A DIGITAL ALARM CLOCK. Fortunately, the power was only out for about half-an-hour yesterday so I wasn’t that late, plus my mom was yelling at me wondering what I was doing.

One of our family friends passed away today and I think he was only in his 60’s. I think it was the big CA. R.I.P. Chuck Miyake.

And on the flip side of that, many of my friends are having kids lately. Not only that, but my co-worker’s expecting twins, and an online buddy went in with his wife for their 11-week ultrasound and, at the moment, they’re having triplets.

I’m not quite clear on what I’m doing because today’s workout at the gym was pretty simple but awful. Row 250 meters and then run around the building. The whole thing only takes under two minutes, but it’s one of those things where you end up lying on the ground between rounds. We only did it three times, which was enough for me. Afterwards, I was stumbling around and knocking into things, proving to myself that I worked hard enough. In fact, after the last round my stomach and calves started cramping up which was a little more than I wanted from the workout. Fortunately, I feel OK now.

Let’s hope the rest of the week isn’t as exciting as today.

I started out the day with breakfast with my buddy Greg. They tell you the way to stay skinny is to have skinny friends so I’m doomed. I wanted to go to Dockside for Eggs Benedict but Greg wanted to try somewhere different and we went to Besaws. Just like Yakuza, the basic materials were better than we were used to but the final product was not. The Hollandaise sauce was bland and the potatoes were underdone and crunchy. I’m not sure why there are those hour-long lines to get in there for weekend brunch. Yuppies must place atmosphere over food.

Most of the day I waited for the electrician. He was due to come at 3PM on a Sunday which seems odd but he was there by 3:30. He finished up everything I wanted and suggested to me that we run a line through the attic space and you can guess what I had to do after dinner.

So now we have wire in the upstairs west bedroom and the question is what we do next. Insulate, sheetrock, paint, and carpet, right?

I’m not even sure what I ate for lunch today and I’m not even sure of the name of the restaurant. I’m pretty sure it’s Super Tacos Ochoa, but there are several establishments in Hillsboro named Ochoa. I’ve never had a taco there, but the egg dishes are great. I’m embarrassed to say that the Huevos Rancheros is only $4 so while I’d like to have the eggs sunny-side up instead of scrambled, it’s tasty and there’s more food than I should eat in one sitting. Today, I had something new. They don’t really speak English at Super Tacos Ochoa and I really had trouble reading the label under the picture on the wall, which is also quite faded and looked a little liked grilled octopus. They said it was beef so I ordered it.

What I got was something like beef stew. Fresh tomatoes, onions, and green peppers cooked with slices of grilled beef served with rice, beans, guacamole, and fresh tortillas. I was full halfway through the plate, but I generally eat everything on my plate. I was in a bit of discomfort afterwards, but it was quite tasty.

Now if I could only remember what it was called.

We tried going to the Filipino restaurant, but they’re at the Grand Ronde Pow-Wow. Kind of a weird match, if you ask me.

And I’m sitting around this Friday night, muscles sore from yesterday’s workout. 12 rounds means I did 60 ugly pullups, 120 pushups, and 180 squats. No wonder I’m sore.

What happens on the day after a hard workout at the gym? ANOTHER HARD WORKOUT AT THE GYM. Sheesh. Fortunately, we planned to cheat on our non-existent diets today and start up a weekly trip to a burger joint. Turns out my love for cheeseburgers is spreading and we’re going to try the best high-end burgers in town. Sean and I went to “Lovely Hula Hands” and the “Slow Bar” and I have to say those are two of the best burgers I’ve had. For cheap burgers, “Five Guys Burger and Fries” is pretty good but that still isn’t matching “In-N-Out”.

Back to today’s trip, we went to Yakuza. I must admit that as a real Asian, I’m not a huge fan of pan-Asian food. Heck, I usually have problems when I go to a Japanese restaurant and the chefs are not Japanese. It can be good, but it’s not Japanese food. I texted my sister when I got there and she said, “What are you, white?” But we went to judge the burger on its own merits and not on the service, the atmosphere, or the clientele.

The burger, with very fresh and quality ingredients was possibly innovative, but was disappointing. Check out the review on Portland Monthly and you can see the self-indulgent review. A Kobe beef burger with chevre and shoestring onion rings infused with togarashi and yuzu with probably homemade ketchup on a creamy bun. Everyone else liked it but I wasn’t impressed. Why not? Well, the first thing I like on a burger is to taste the meat. The meat was well cooked and of high quality but IT DIDN’T TASTE LIKE ANYTHING. It’s the same complaint I have with poorly done filet mignon: it can be exquisitely tender but lack flavor. That’s how this burger was. The tasteless meat was doctored up with the spicy fried onions, but I think what it really needed was some aging and someone with a salt shaker.

I wouldn’t go out of my way to avoid the Yakuza burger, but I surely wouldn’t go out of my way to get one either. I’m very wary of the rest of their menu, as it had “creative sushi” as well. I have my own suggestions for creative sushi and they lead you directly to Gaya Gaya on West Burnside.

But people watching at Yakuza was pretty funny as well. Not only was there a mismatched couple next to us (a guy my age with a woman who could be his daughter if he was pushing it) and a tipsy cougar who knocked her fancy Yakuza plates to the floor while dining with her boytoy. So really, go for the fun if not for the food.