Cog Blog

Not Too Close!

2012-02-09T16:11:00.000-05:00

Well that's a bit of a flip. I found myself on the wrong side of a lens today. But look, I survived!

Let's start with early morning, when I decided it would be a good idea to google this 'cable station' we were about to be on. Turns out the translation, or my interpretation of it, was somehow skewed. This was less of your garden variety community access channel and more of a globally accessed 24 Hour satellite news operation. Entirely less Wayne, ALL World.

And yes, Mom, if you have the Filipino Channel at home, you could have seen me live on television. Prime Time in the States to be exact. Oh, wow, I don't think I realized that until just now.

So we exchange our Licenses for All Access TV passes. Guards Everywhere, at the gate, inside the building, and yet once we got in, no escort. I poked my head around a little but clearly nothing for me to get into on this floor, except dimmer rooms and UPS...which are kind of important in TV.

So we head to the Peach Room. In case you aren't a fancy, important TV star none of them are typically Green. But the anchor himself, did come down and personally welcome us to the show, so that impressed me. Then Makeup....da da da....

Jo and I decided this was all about Joel. He's the main attraction, we were just the pips. We could stand behind shuffle our feet, snap our fingers, and croon shooby dooby doo. Anything to keep me out of that Makeup chair!

In the end, I survived. We all did. Our phones were not ringing off the hook with kudos of our show as they had the night before on the radio program. Yeah, Man! (you probably had to be there). And we uneventfully went to Starbucks afterwards and not a single person asked for our autographs. One small child ran up to us eagerly with an outstretched hand, but that's it.

15 Minutes...checked off the bucket list, as if it were even on it! Oh, and in case you were wondering, Yes I found my hat, but No I couldn't wear it on teevee. She actually handed me a brush...I don't have to think she was telling me something. I looked at it like, what the heck is this?? Then I went mountain biking all done up and pretty.

I've Misplaced Tuesday

2012-02-07T18:49:00.000-05:00

I know this says Tuesday, but it's actually Wednesday. Phew. That was some trip. I left Monday, and arrived a Moron. I am bracing for a lot more of that. First, when we arrived at the hotel it looked quite under construction. Not a car in the parking lot, not a soul in the 'lobby'.

Turns out the lobby is on 5U, not the ground floor. Not there by the main entrance. Really, no where in sight. It's okay though because you have to be wanded before you can go in by some uniformed man who just magically appeared. I wish he had kept an eye on my hat because it vanished as soon as I arrived. DO YOU HEAR WHAT I AM SAYING...MY HAT VANISHED. I am not sure how I can go on. This IS my security blanket.

Then there was the perfect English I don't quite understand. I mean, some of the words are twisted around but I shouldn't be struggling as much as I am. And if they told me how to get into my room....well I missed it.

I'm staying in a Best Western, you can see the door key in the picture. This isn't foreign to me, I've stayed in a room before. My campsites don't require them, but I've stayed in a hotel once or twice. Well, you'd never know it. Turns out this was a blessing, not getting into the room. So the bell hop saved the day and got me in and he placed the card in this slot, which I didn't love because I'm going to forget it.

He neglected to mention that 'slot' powers the whole joint. No card, no juice. Could someone PLEASE point out what I need to stick where in order to get HOT WATER. Please, I ain't too clean to beg!

Super Sunday

2012-02-05T21:16:00.000-05:00

Sometimes life just works. I mean I'm not one to turn away from a challenge. I typically run headstrong into them. But bushwhacking is tiring and not always rewarding.

City riding is also fun but challenging. Your mind is consumed by everything around you, aggressive driving, absent signals, swinging doors... One errant thought and you're kissing pavement.

But every now and again, life throws you your own bike lane. A place to slow down, take in the sights, breathe in the air, watch a sailboat float across the water. A momentary reprieve from the hectic world of life.

It's a nice place to be. This Bike Lane. I do so enjoy it. I need more of this Bike Lane. I could really get used to it.

Kindling

2012-02-02T20:38:00.001-05:00

Oh my, that was painful. I went to the library today to get tax forms AND look for a book. That was a mistake. You should never go to the library to look for a book; stick with Amazon.

I recently discovered Erich Fromm. This guy is ancient history now, but I saw it on CSI (and they say TeeVee can't teach you nothin). Having and Being and commercial storage space... It was good stuff. I am definitely a be-er not a have-er.

So I thought I'd look in the used book section to see if I could find something. Turns out you can't find a thing. It's really rather simple you could choose from a variety of options: you could go by subject, title, author, alphabet, freaking dewey decimal, it IS a library after all.

I was shocked to find sitting on the edge of a shelf the very author I was there to see. Wasn't the right book, but hey! this must be the right section. But... how... does... one... find.... anything?? I cry for help. The artifact behind the counter tells me it's a classic...look in Classic. Yeah, have you smelled this joint, pretty sure they are all Classics.

Uhm, yeah, okay, I know I just met the man but I'm pretty sure he's not a Hemmingway, Faulkner, or Gustav Flaubert. This dude is a philosopher, a sociologist, a psychologist...your Freuds, Hegels, like that. You do have sections, I see it on the index cards. If you've filed him in the Classics, you've made a mistake. No offense.

She went back to her book. I went back to Sociology and exercised the tried and true...alphabetical by section. I just wasn't exactly sure where to look for him. I mean since he had just been tossed on a shelf sort of willy nilly like. Apparently a volunteer had also asked her where to file it and she waved, "over there". It wasn't in the space between Zimmerman and Pinker. Oh, I know.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised, a book person not overly adept in the social skillz. But I did expect a greater sense of knowledge with a panache to smother me with it. If they aren't going to encourage the reading, they really ought to give up the space. I know next time I actually want something specific I'll hit up the interweb. I just type it in the box and Viola, Erich Fromm!

Might be a reason they shove the old books in the boiler room. Isn't that where they make fire? Two words. Kindle. Fire.

Life Slows

2012-01-31T12:53:00.001-05:00

This is for Her; of course it's a recurring theme, like carp.

This is a ditty 'bout how the grass grows

Tough and random, not careful laid rows

Bluegrass, fescue, whichever you choose

Dew clinging loosely, licks at my toes

A wafting spring scent, whenever she mows

A soft summer playground for jays and the crows

Midnight snack for the bunnies and does

Natural stage for backyard shows

A scrapbook filled with young superbowl throws

The subject for many a poet and prose

Listen real careful, you can hear as wind blows

Catching your tears in the midst of your woes

A mat for meditation...your heartbeat slows

Supporting young love even as they propose

Flashback of all the highs and the lows

I believe that's how the story goes,

But I'm not really sure anyone knows.

My Ah Ha Moment

2012-01-29T23:30:00.000-05:00

I guess I can say this here, since although it's public, my readership is low. I want to quit my job. There, it's real, it's on the internet. I can remember a day when it was on TV it was real. Funny, now that we have Reality TV those days are gone.

I would like to pull the plug. Change the channel. Donate my television to the local dump. I'm not disgruntled, bitter, or angry; I'm just done. Problem is, what now?

I've been crunching the numbers, seems like old times. At least this time the math makes more sense. But what I need is more cents. Here's what I came up with: I'll be fine I just need to give up coffee, beer, gas, tv (no problem), and food. I'm bargaining away my vices for the ability to see more sunsets. I think it's a fair trade. But then I think, but some of those things are important, like beer.

Folks keep telling me I need to make a list. A pros cons list. Do I have to, she said in her best only child whine. I know what it's going to tell me and that's not the answer I want to hear. I asked my dad for permission to quit my job. He gave me advice about the list. The things I put on the pro side that are really important to me, put them on TWICE. It's the best advice he's ever given.

Tonight the wind was howling like it was angry about something. Then came the sleet. Beneath the street lights I found a beautiful peculiar scene. It was as if I was riding in a snow globe being assaulted by a pit bull. And I thought, I'm sick of riding in circles.

BWI

2012-01-28T23:57:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry what? Did I hear you correctly? Did you just call me HIGH MAINTENANCE? Me? Did you mean to call ME high maintenance? Or did you just say Hi! Maintenance? Because I'm a technician, not maintenance.

I walked in a bar, met a guy named Jerry, and he accused me of being high maintenance within 5 minutes. I hate to break it to you Jer but not a single hair follicle has seen a brush, comb, razor, or tweezer in a month or more. I'm not proud, I'm just saying.

On a positive note, I got in for free. "Bikers get in free," that's what the doorman said. And if I could just point out, high maintenance girls DO NOT ride to bars on bikes. Sometimes they ride ON bars on bikes, but never bikes to bars.

But I will say this, in an effort to pack for my upcoming trip, I have come across a most disturbing girlie thought: I've got drawers full of clothes and not a thing to wear!

Gone Fishing

2012-01-27T14:51:00.001-05:00

What a difference a year makes. I've had a particularly craptastic time of it...until I decided not to. Talking helps; friends help; listening helps. Dancing...helps. Attitude Adjusted. Mission Defined.

I've recently added a fresh breeze to my life. She rocks. She types in italics. Accidentally. And shows her teeth about it. She makes me smile, and laugh out loud. She is a good friend.

I am so lucky to be surrounded by good friends. Friends that remind me about the importance of life. Friends that encourage me to dance and sing out loud, real loud. Friends that remind me to put my passion into work AND work into passion. I have refound my smile.

I've taken to midday dance downs. It's fun. I dance in the living room. I dance in the kitchen. I dance down the hall. Last night I almost danced in the bar, but I didn't want to be refused my next beer. It wasn't that kind of bar.

I heard today my new life motto. Last night it was Carpe Carp, which I still like, but is really a "you had to be there" moment. Today it is I haven't seen nearly enough sunsets yet. Cue the midlife crisis; I am ready.

Sara Bareilles:
There's too many things that I haven't done yet
Too many sunsets
I haven't seen
You can't waste the day wishing it'd slow down
You would've thought by now
I'd have learned something
There's too many things i haven't done yet
Too many sunsets i haven't seen

Snow White

2012-01-22T20:16:00.000-05:00

Pure as the ridden snow. I finally got to use my snow tires today! Now, please may I never have to use them again.

This is about my trip. Or at least that is the guise I am using to hook you in. Not that it matters, I have one solid reader and .5 various others. My faithful follower? A doctor, so I can say whatever I like.

You've guessed it, another blasted post about my period. I won't get into the specifics of it, but you well know it's a troublesome time in my life. And it's poised to impact my travels. But this is really about math so hang in there.

So I pulled out a pen and paper, calculator, calendar, and ancient abacus. All in an effort to pinpoint the exact moment of its arrival. I don't like surprises. I like them even less on 20 hour plane rides. And once I realized the time change of traveling across the globe might present a variable I hadn't anticipated I was face to face with a complex puzzle.

It was starting to play out like a brow scrunching word problem in a college level Prob and Stat class. If I leave on a plane at 6:00 UTC/GMT +8 hours from an area with no DST to arrive EST 19:00 and Aunt Flo arrives 2 hours later on the same plane how many times will I need get up and go stuff myself into a tiny excuse of a CR during that flight?

See? Tougher than Rubiks Cube. I can promise you this, I'd be up and down more times than a Jane Fonda workout tape. But just as I was about to fully panic I reconsulted the calendar. Phew, I was an entire week off. You'd a thought I just found out I wasn't pregnant. And believe me the first person I'd tell is the doctor at Sibley! (see if you were the faithful reader, you'd get that)

But the math problem of the whole ordeal is still intriguing. And I'm thinking if the word problems I actually did encounter in freshman math read like this I might have paid closer attention. If your tampon has the capacity of .0001 litres of liquid, which is absorbed at a rate of .001 litres per 48 minutes how often would you need to change it during an overseas flight, oh and by the way you are wearing snowy white pants. Now THAT I might have paid attention to. I really didn't think it'd be necessary to work through the trajectory of a satellite leaving orbit.

Semantics

2012-01-20T17:36:00.000-05:00

Careful what you wish for. I hate to keep harping on the door incident, but I bumped my head, consider it a skip in the record. Going through the door is not exactly what you meant to say I'm guessing. And perhaps maybe rethinking this bumper sticker, also necessary.

Define girlfriend. Define dirty. How dirty IS your bike? I'm just saying you might get more than you bargained for. Trust me.

Today I went to the bank. To speak to someone about my account. See, they have these people, who sit at desks, away from the counter, that work for the bank, I thought they were there to help.

"Did you need help with something?" See, I told you, there to help. I stated my issue, my concern, and they said, "just dial the number on the back of your card". The one that says 'customer service' I say? Meanwhile thinking, WHAT is it THESE folks do at the bank all day?

Is this like sending an associate to an event to have them stand at a display and when people come up and ask for more information, they say....say it with me....Just Go To The Website. I love that one.

Night Cap

2012-01-18T01:41:00.000-05:00

It's been brought to my attention that I am cryptic and unclear. Yes, I know. So this is for you. A recap of my ER tour and events thereafter...as clear as it can be, for what it's worth.

I'd like to first draw your attention to the picture on the right. Notice the big green button on the left wall. That is what you are supposed to push to exit, I believe you will notice also a note on the left door stating as much. We here in America, however, travel on the right. Perhaps you see the danger in this set up. I mean I'm no Engineer, well, actually I am but not that kind of Engineer.

So let's jump to the point of impact. JD was standing over me going on and on about a red cast on my arm. Then I got whisked away to the ER by way of several traffic circles that may have been unnecessary, but I wasn't driving, nor thinking clearly. So we finally got to the ER where I sat in the waiting room and read something about mothers and unicorns on the sign above the desk.

My designated driver parked illegally in front of a police car right in front of the Emergency Room access. She then came in walked by me several times (the waiting room is the size of a small closet) and then sat down next to me across from a room labeled TRIAGE, which she managed to pronounce, but had trouble figuring out what it was. She's a reporter. And I was hit on the head? It's where they coral the 3 year olds duh!

Then they call me back and perform an eye test from the adjacent wing. The nurse texts me to tell me to cover the right eye. I read a couple lines, hesitate, and seriously wonder if she wants me call out the Russian characters I see in the next line. I do. She asks me to stop.

Then they call in the main gal, the one who engages in the multiple questions about my sex life or rather lack thereof. Remember the back and forth between pregnancy and period? Now I've only experienced the one but I believe they are both fairly obvious and somewhat mutually exclusive of each other. But she thoroughly questions me anyway, to be sure. Don't they have tests for that...I mean if you don't trust me. Or was there a particular answer you were looking for ma'am? What have you heard??

Then she does the drinking tests. Turns out I'm sober. Cold hard sober. Completely within the legal limit. Maybe if I had said I was pregnant we could have skipped this part? Then Chandelier checked me in. The Divine Miss not the elegant light fixture. I'm sorry? Is that your stripper name? I remember when they used to have STRIPERS in hospitals...

Then they hooked me up with a bike where the wheels were next to each other instead of one in front of the other. Because there were no working pedals this turned out to be a good thing. And it came with a chauffeur who took me to the CAT test. I'm still not exactly sure why they were looking for cats in my head, but turns out none were there, thank god.

Then they told me to resume normal activity minus the TV watching, drinking, and staying up late. I don't understand, what? My head hurts. I managed to check off all three, oh wait, I think I got confused I WASN'T supposed to do those, shoot.

When I went to work today I marched myself up to HR to fill out an accident report. I wore my helmet inside the building and everyone laughed.

Got it? Unicorns, a cast, Chandeliers, cats, sober, NOT PREGNANT. That's 100% what happened as accurately as I can possibly recall.

Doors: 2. Me: Goose Egg

2012-01-17T00:30:00.000-05:00

Well I made it through the night, I haven't been to sleep yet, but I did manage to run audio successfully and drive a car home. I think I might live, but I guess we'll see if I wake up in the morning.

Cuz they were super worried about it at the hospital. First there was the doctor...or doctor's assistant, or whatever she was, the woman administering the drinking tests...and can I just say they were real concerned about my last period, they always are. Then there are the pregnant questions. And birth control. Really, are all these questions necessary or even relevant? I bumped my HEAD!

3 weeks. No. No. In that order. Then she leans in real close, bats her eyelashes over her beautiful rimmed glasses, and whispers, "Can you give me a good reason?" Excuse me? Are you flirting with me? Because I can honestly say, I'm a little rusty. Get it? Rusty? Ha! That's off the CHAIN YO! Raahaha

She was not. Flirting, that is. I mean mine's been on a year long sabbatical, but it came back with a vengeance BAM!(like riding a bike)...all it took was a bonk on the head; an enormous clunk on the noggin. I damn near bit my tongue off; okay, really I just shaved off a sliver of half a taste bud, but then I came to and asked someone to kiss it. My tongue! To make it better. They sent me to the ER.

Where they asked me about my sex life. I said, a good reason I'm not on birth control? She said, pregnant, how do you know you're not pregnant because they are going to demand a concrete answer...I mean you're the doctor, but isn't the bleeding from the uterine wall a sign? How about I'M NOT SEXUALLY ACTIVE?? Is that a good enough reason for you? Apparently it was.

Then they sit me down with a list of signs and symptoms. Do you live alone? There we go again! Are you trying to depress me or is this just a side effect? YES, I live alone. Well, could someone check on you? Watch you? Make sure you are still breathing? I thought, Parker will definitely be calling you in the morning to let you know someone needs to feed her if I have not, but I just cleared the CAT test and didn't want to bring that up again.

Er...

2012-01-16T20:21:00.000-05:00

The line wasn't so bad, but as soon as they put the wristband on I got a drinking test. What? Shouldn't I get at least get ONE drink first? Not a bad idea to test someone before AND after, I mean to get an accurate test, but I ain't even been served yet!

Okay, so I touched my nose and heel toed my way across the room. Now can I have a drink? Not for two days; are you crazy! I just took out a door with my head. Surely I deserve a drink.

There I go again with a door/work injury. Hadn't even thought of it. Turns out they don't work as good if you try to put your head through them. I mean before they are opened. Note to self: wear helmet even when OFF the bike...

It's not the coolest club in town, but I did get this really cool bracelet with my name on it. I asked, and they don't actually serve ANY drinks. Apple juice, that's right they offered me apple juice. BUT I did get a free ride in a wheel chair like an amusement park. I really think the guy could have put more into it, it was really rather tame. And he just left me sit outside this really ominous sign that said CAUTION RADIATION.

No cause for alarm...there are absolutely NO cats in my head! Zero. I didn't think it necessary to take radioactive pictures to find this out however. CAT Scan, they called it. It was really a brain scan and I tried to activate every cranny so it would light up like I see on TeeVee.

Diagnosis: concussion. The medical term for, there's really nothing wrong, but we want to cover our ass. Treatment: resume normal activity, no TV, no alcohol, and don't stay up late. Uh, Doc, we may have a problem here...can you maybe rank those in order of importance because there's no way you're getting all that!

COGnitive Behavioral Therapy

2012-01-14T15:00:00.001-05:00

The Y is silent? Silent? Are you sure? I don't remember this grammatical rule. I before E...yes..except after C...yes..and sometimes Y...right...but the Y has always had a voice! The Y must always be heard!

Not this time sister cyclist. Every now and again you come across a situation that has no answer. I don't love it, but there's not a damn thing I can do about it. Toast success, I guess; good thing there's a beer handy in my cage.

This is another one of those life parallels that played itself out several times this week. Some things just don't have a 'why'. Why? Didn't your mother ever tell you, because I said so. Sometimes it doesn't matter, sometimes no one knows, sometimes...Christ on a Kestrel just let it go!

Grit, grime, grease, gunk, gross. I'm not sure what or how, but my bike is no longer creaking. Thank the lord Amen. I was about to stick it on a boat to Africa...I can you know!? I'm not sure I found the answer, perhaps it was the Ick. The Ick is never good. It has ruined the best relationships, felled mighty royals, flattened political wannabees. I say blame the Ick.

Oh, but then the Y isn't really silent. Well you know what, two negatives don't really make a positive either, but that one's been around since the beginning of A. Well, I'm using my emotional license to manipulate the truth. You try sleeping in this brain with puzzles unsolved! It was the ICK I tell you!

Besides, I still don't know how ESPN got into Mic 11 so there's your Silent Y. And if you hear Sara Walsh talking on top of one of our reporters you'll know why, but I won't.

It IS a Vehicle

2012-01-09T11:41:00.002-05:00

A girl walks into a...body shop, thought I was gonna say BAR dincha? Oh shoot, that's not going to work either...so a girl rides into a body shop...

I did. I parked out back and rode the little joint around front and into the office. Parked it right there beneath the counter. Kickstand and all. Then, I plopped my key down on the counter and the guy just looked at me.

I looked, and sure enough, I was in the right place, says Auto Body right on the door. "I'm dropping my car off to get repaired." There may have been a hint of attitude. (hey, it was early)

He looked at me. At the bike. At me. At the bike. He stood to get a better look at the bike. Then he shrugged, took the key, and said "okay". And we all laughed. I told him the fender needed tightened and maybe a touch up on the paint. Then he pulled out the paint book...

...Meanwhile, they are banging the shit out of my car for a few grand. I like the sense of humor; I guess you need it when you charge folks $100 for new logos so Honda can advertise on your trunk. For FREE. Okay, I'll drop it. But that's about $13 a letter. And the bumper stickers...?

Suxism

2012-01-07T14:33:00.000-05:00

...well not exactly. I would like to retract everything I said in my previous post. Except the title, I'd like to reiterate that.

Today's ride may well be one of the top ~~5 worst~~ ever. Top 3. IF you only count the rides that sucked because of non-technical issues. I'm not quite ready to blame the tires, but the way I felt it couldn't possibly be just ONE thing at fault.

I'm almost hoping I've contracted MS or Fibro or the Ebola Virus or something that better explains my acute case of Maximum Gluteus Couchitis. My performance was horrendous. I stopped THREE times on may way in. From home. To work.

I was seriously regretting passing by that two year old with her arm outreached, cheerio between her fingers, offering it, to me. I thought, how cute, she is sharing her treats. I had no idea she was trying to save my life. Turns out I'm not even smarter than a 2 Year Old.

And so, 50 yards down the road, I BONKED. Hard. I debiked. I sat down. But I didn't take off my shoes OR helmet. There was no picnic, but I sure did need it. Was it the heat? The lack of breakfast? Was I tired? The rhino virus? WHY was I so tired.

I stopped again, and refueled on cookies I remembered were in my bag. God love M&M...the couple, not the candy. Four cookies, filled with short lived sugar bursts. It got me 150 yards further. Good! The zoo. I HAVE to walk through the zoo, it's not like I CAN'T ride. I'm NOT ALLOWED to. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

Prairie Dogs. I love prairie dogs. Maybe I'll just sit here awhile and watch them. Ooh, the gorillas are out. What is that, a bird? A wild, free bird. Squirrels, now you don't see those everyday... Moms with strollers were beating me up the hill, even while taking in the zebras, or is it zebrae?

Debunking the popular theory, every ride is a good ride. This one sucked. Hard. I might be stuck at work...

My Tired Life

2012-01-06T16:00:00.000-05:00

If you ask any shop they'll surely tell you it's about tires. I don't totally agree, the wheels themselves deserve some cred., but for the money it truly is all about the tires.

Once I took my bike in the shop, had them overhaul it while I was off doing RAAM, and when I got back I could barely ride the thing! You could blame RAAM, but it was all about the tires and the cassette. I went from mountain to road (11 to 9) and beefy commuter tires. I sucked some major asphalt.

So you may have questioned my desire to switch from 28s to 35s. I know! And it's not like I really needed to put snow tires on my bike, what with temperatures licking 55 degrees. My old commuter mountain bike (may she rest in peace) went from knobby fats to skinny slicks. Now I'm converting from skinny slicks to knobby fats? Women!

You don't understand...(I know that's the definition of woman). I was riding a single speed with 28s. Now I've got GEARS and a ROAD crank! I'm cruising despite the knobby fats. I sound a bit like a Star Wars war craft but better yet I can fly like one!

It's all about what you put into it. Just like life. You can sit back and coast stuck on your cycle or you pour your heart and soul into it and really get something out of it. I mean the scenery is nice either way, but you'll feel so much better if you're not just along for the ride.

And that's all I have to say about that...

Have You Checked Whoville?

2012-01-01T00:30:00.000-05:00

Dear Santa Baby, Honey, Snookums...

I couldn't help but notice you didn't leave what I asked for this Christmas. In fact, correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't stop by at all. I know you were in the neighborhood, it appears Christmas puked all over my neighbors' living room.

I mean I had some choice moments, but I wouldn't label me 'naughty'...really I don't think anyone would....Sincerely, NOTHING happened in Vegas, I didn't just leave it there! Perhaps it was that bit about the post office and you leaving packages there? Come on! Where's your sense of humor? It's a blog, I know it's on the Internet, but it's really not real.

So anyway, I'll let it slide this year. I've been distracted with a sack of sidetrack anyway. I'm getting all the bad out of the way before we even get into the new year so no excuses. But I thought I could go ahead and get you a list early so you could work on it. And please, if you come across my dream gift and you are in the area go ahead and drop it by...even if it's April, just don't forget the bow.

It's the same thing I've already asked for, I just have a list you can use as a guide. It's just a guide, but I wouldn't stray too far from it. Sort of a Betterman Top 10 List

1. someone who can laugh and have a good time FUN FUN FUN
2. someone who introduces me to new things and stretches my imagination
3. someone who pushes me to be a better person and is striving for the same
4. someone who isn't too materialistic (whether it be trash or treasure)
5. someone who rides faster than me
6. someone who no offense, doesn't have rosy cheeks and a snowy white beard
7. someone who touches me outside of...you know....the naughty stuff ;)
8. someone who has vacation and is not afraid to use it
9. someone who rides through mud puddles
10. someone who is super excited to see me

...it's just a start, but if you could keep your eye out now....thanks so much

Bi-Kurious

2011-12-31T15:07:00.002-05:00

I knew it would happen. She is my bike after all. Not that there's anything wrong with it. And not that she has to choose. I'm quite happy to enjoy her either way, said the winking bi-cyclist.

All it took was a new pair of tires and now she wants to be a cross dresser. My hybrid wants to be a cyclocross. There, I said it. It's not so bad. It's actually kind of fun. I rode it today. 700. 35. Knobby tires. Oh yeah, I rode her today. And boy was it fun!

I was like a 10 year old on a brand new bike. She's always been my favorite bike, but our relationship has been a bit stale the past year. These new shoes with their beefy rubber...fun, fun, fun. I really am that easy to please. Grinning ear to ear in my mud colored glasses.

I'm no where near race ready, nor interested, really. But if I got stronger I could throw the old road cassette back on this baby and have a real Xbike at the low low cost of $80! Since I don't like a drop bar I'm 3/4 of the way there!

Imagine it. Me and RF neck and neck racing for the finish. She, on her new Cross, me on my 'Brid. Going...for...broke...on...the...final....s..t..r..e..t..c..h... Me...Rach...Me...Rach...who's it gonna.....be......who's gonna take last place this time...??

What a Rip Off

2011-12-28T10:48:00.000-05:00

The good news is she stopped. And she didn't give me a thumbs up, but then I did nothing to deserve it this time. I was sitting there at the red light minding my own business with my foot on the brake. And then it hit me.

The other car that is. And here's the thing you already know, insurance is a scam....and so are the people on the receiving end. And here we are in the middle, the victims, sacrificing our time, our life, our money to support these two monsters controlling our crumpled lives.

I'm just going to say this...I don't care if anyone knows I'm driving a Honda...if they can't see that they are blind (which maybe, they shouldn't even be on the road then, I'm just saying). I really don't care if they know it's an EX, I'd rather they not to be honest. What I do want, is to advertise my interests...climbing, riding, a political affiliation, a favorite vacation spot....It's MY bumper, MY prime advertising space.

But after the accident who is going to replace those bumper stickers? Not the insurance company I'll tell you that. And WHY the hell not I ask you? They will have been damaged as a result of the accident, for which I bear no fault, and should by all means be covered by the policy. Really, what are we talking, 5-15 bucks tops?

You know what is covered? Honda. Civic. Ex. $20. $20. $20. I. Kid. You. Not. That's not including the labor to reaffix them to the repaired trunk. We're talking $100 bucks to replace corporate advertising to MY space. Shoot, I could use a Sharpie to replace that. On second thought, shouldn't THEY be paying ME?

All Lit Up For the Holidays

2011-12-25T13:05:00.002-05:00

Merry Christmas

Me and My Shadow

2011-12-24T19:10:00.000-05:00

Daddy Look!

It's a girl! She's insane! That's SUPER Man!

Yes, my new and improved Santa Helmet is....well, awesome. It's a little on the top heavy side. Not exactly aerodynamic. I am a bit of a reverse bobble head, especially in wind. Definitely give me all 3 feet.

There are smiles, giggles, honks, but most importantly traffic does STOP. I mean you could buy lights and batteries and hope OR you could grab one of these babies and know. They WILL see you!

And I have been called a bit of a Grinch this Christmas. See, it's him not me! But if you are going to spend a holiday alone, you might as well spend it with your shadow. Always there (even at night in a city!), dependable, consistant, attentive...and if he's as fun as mine....!!

So Santa if you are listening, I'd love a best friend to fall in love with. To laugh, to cry, to listen, to talk, to compromise, to RIDE, to share the holiday and every day...but if that's too much to ask, maybe less wind on my commute? You don't even need to stop by the house, I didn't make cookies and I'm out of beer. GRINCH!

What's Black and White and Read All Over?

2011-12-23T13:10:00.001-05:00

There is something to be said about good old fashioned news...as in paper, newspaper. Not to mention the handy little bag it comes in every morning, the challenging crossword, and various biased reports from around the globe masquerading as fair and balanced...but there is the newspaper itself.

You've heard the rumors. Sterile....well, not exactly...but it does work great to clean windows, protect ice cream, insulate clothing, make paper hats. WHAT ABOUT PAPER MACHE!?!? Have you ever tried to make some indiscernible object out of an e-mag?? And what about that paste....what will our youth of tomorrow stick in their mouths and attempt to digest when we walk out of the room for two seconds?

It's not ALL good that we've thrown newspapers to the wayside. Take last night for example. I went out for a delightful dinner, stunning conversation, bouts of joy and laughter....unbeknownst to me outside it was pouring. And I'm not saying it's a bad night when a date ends wet, but....it's better with protection, right? And it wasn't that kind of date, if you know what I mean.

So I got wet. Pants, shoes, bag...surprisingly NOT my hair, go figure. But when you ride every day- wet anything is not good, especially in winter. Enter the newspaper. Perfect for stuffing wet shoes...alas, not a page of paper in the joint!

In a pinch, I tried stuffing my mouse in there, but as you can imagine it didn't help. Thank god for hairdryers. And the seat....well, let's just say, it's good to have a spare.

Midday Fallies

2011-12-22T17:30:00.000-05:00

And you thought riding through the city was dangerous and challenging...Have you ever tried circumnavigating a strip mall parking lot three days before Christmas? It's worth the prime parking spot however!

And yet, it was the trail that put me on my ass. Like a sheet of ice on a super slick tire....leaves, mud, you name it...it's why they call it FALL. Not once. Not twice. But THREE times I almost fell.

And there I was checking out some Xtires at the REI. Nothing against REI, but it's not the place I expected to be looking at Xtires, alas online shopping is often challenging. And there just happened to be a sweet set locked to the same bike rack. So I measured, and checked it twice...I wanted naughty AND nice. Something with some teeth, but still manageable...You know a little winter grip...come to think of it that fender may have to go.

The thing about brick and mortars are you get it NOW, which is apparently exactly when I needed said tires. If third time's a charm, fourth time's some harm. Yes, indeedydoo I put her down on the fourth tricky pass. I put her down hard. My own little version of the ditty, Hit the Deck Falls.

At the time I thought all was well, I mean there arose some clatter, but nothing amiss. I worked, the bike worked....up, up, and away...but time would bring visions of black and blue plums on my head. Okay, that was holiday licensing. It was really my thigh. And my ribs. And my shoulder....Bah Humbugger!

PO, PO, PO

2011-12-19T13:11:00.000-05:00

Man, times are tight. I can remember the days when Santa came to your house. Sleigh, reindeer, the works. Now apparently he has the mail carriers leave 'we missed you' slips at the door.

Really? At. The. Door? I finally have a working chimney and no red felted fat man is squeezing through it? But I had it cleaned! I'm making cookies. There is beer. There is always beer.

Come to think of it I don't remember ANY chimneys in the old trailer park. How exactly did I expect Santa to get those toys under the tree every year? Then we moved to a house with a chimney but no fire place. WHAT, Santa is STUCK in the interior of the house? Start chipping at the drywall! Well, who would put a fake chimney on top of a house anyway??

I was a little worried about picking up an undisclosed package at the post office. And this, the busiest day of the year. It was certainly not high on my WANT TO DO LIST. But the least he could do was give me some idea of dimensions...I do ride a bike after all.

I realize you have a big sleigh...or perhaps a UPS truck I'm thinking....but all I have is a handlebar. "Bigger than a breadbox." "Heavier than a bowling ball." You don't have to ruin the surprise, but can a girl get a hint?! The slip of paper didn't play the Lexus ditty so at least I knew it wasn't a car. Do you know anyone who has ever gotten one of those big red bowed cars??

There was a sigh of relief when the postmaster brought this. There could have been an early Christmas at the Woodmoor Post Office. But really Santa? It's not like you have to worry about high gas prices!! Bring back home delivery!

Say Llama Calcetines

2011-12-17T16:40:00.000-05:00

Yikes! There is a Snuffleupagus in my bike shoes! And here I thought I didn't have room for a second pair of socks! I stand corrected...and WARM.

They are actually Alpacas. And FYI these creatures are a bit like Gremlins...or more accurately Mogwai with a slight twist. You can get these babies wet...just don't put them in the dryer. I'm talking clothing products here, but I wouldn't recommend putting an acutal Alpaca in a dryer either. It would have to be a commercial dryer and I still wouldn't recommend it.

But that's how I got these socks. My grandparents felted them. That means they now stand up on their own and good luck passing your toes through the ankle. But on the flip side now they are smaller and fit in my shoes...I just have to take my feet off first. Okay, so my toes don't get cold on the way home Perfect. Truly a win, win, win.

I've got another pair I sleep in. OH. MY. GOD. That's all I'm gonna say.

Coming Clean

2011-12-16T16:02:00.000-05:00

The truth is I'm stuck. I've been stuck for a chocolate box of years now. Gump was right, You Never Know Whatchur Gonna Git.

It's just like that. I've been picking out sweet treats for the better part of a decade only to bite into them bitterly disappointed and then toss them back into the box. I've got a case of gnawed off desserts and a hunger for something more.

I guess the key is not to be fooled by the chocolate covered outside. It's what's on the inside that matters. It all looks so good on the exterior but the surprise inside...you know what I'm saying. We've all confidently chewed into that little square delight only to find strawberry coconut nougat when we really wanted caramel.

Take fruit cake. Who really likes these things? It's the season of giving, however. Giftee Beware. You take all your rotten cores and disguise them with fluffy white cake hoping no one will notice. The problem with tiny chocolates is A) they are irresistible and B) you can't slice them open to find what you have before committing.

Fair enough. Since it's always about the bike....I'll keep my single speed thank you very much. I have one gear, it always works, I know what I'm going to have to put in, and I know what I'm going to get out. You can keep your 21 speed where certain combinations don't work, a sliver of crumpled leaf can throw a chain, and the constant upkeep is overly demanding. That relationship is too high maintenance for me.

Simple is as simple does. I don't want gears I don't really need. You might have to work harder but there's no need carrying around excessive baggage for a one or two time use. I'm ready to get unstuck; it's time to pull that stick out of my spokes and really get moving! Besides, spoke cards work much better than wood...even with a bamboo frame.

Dude, Where's My...Seriously

2011-12-09T23:25:00.001-05:00

Unfortunately I like sketchy photographs...graffiti, boarded up buildings, broken windows. It's not the ideal place to wander around. With an expensive camera around your neck. Alone.

But given my recent lack of fear I wandered down the back alleys of Baltimore searching for subjects. It occurred to me at some point this wasn't the time or place to be artistic.
When you are in these situations alone...eyeball in a viewfinder, focused on a meter and light and Fstops and such it's hard to be aware of your surroundings. Shutter speed and focus ought to be left to the camera. Point, shoot, or get shot.

But here's where it takes a turn for the worse. I lost my car. I'm not saying it was stolen. I'm saying I lost it. I rode down too many alleys, in too many circles; I was like a toddler who just spun himself silly. I had no idea where I parked it.

I remembered intersection A and intersection B and they were within two blocks of each other. I circled this same area upwards of 10 times. Several Civics. None with bike racks. More importantly, none that were mine. Must. leave. bread. crumbs....or...dumb ass, use your camera to take a picture before you go wandering off like a child.

There was a good possibility I parked it on a main road and it was almost 3pm. Yes, I was actually hoping my car would be towed. Then I'd be able to find it! My friend wanted to help, but I had nothing to offer. Yeah, I parked it next to a....a curb. Underneath a....a tree. Beside a.....a parking sign. Anything like that you've seen in the city?

Finally I stopped trying to remember and decided to think. I worked my way backwards from Intersections A and B. See I thought I had driven through Intersection A and ridden through B. Putting C (the car) between these two points. It seems I had been on bike through both Intersections A AND B...indeed NOW I remember. C is precisely....YES, there's my car!

I Should Have Got a Pink Flamingo

2011-12-06T16:00:00.000-05:00

Here's a little update on my car. So you know it wouldn't start the other day. Turns out it was the distributor. Also turns out this is a $700 fix. Ouch. Well, I broke even, go figure. My back pay comes in...right around this figure. And I turn around and hand it over to the mechanic.

When I get the estimate, which changes by the way, I call my dad and say, really? Really, should a distributor cost that much? To which he responds, "do you want your car back?" Fair enough. I was in a pickleroo. It was after all DITD (dead in the driveway).

Stepping back a few days can I just tell you when I walked into the garage there was a dude standing in there. Just hanging out. I couldn't tell if he worked there or if he was waiting on his car or what. Mind you I just called to say my car was OTW. Now, outside my car is being dewinched off the back of a tow truck that has monopolized the entire gas station. And this guy looks at me and says, do you need something?

So fast forward to now. Car's all fixed. New tires, new spark plugs, new muffler, and now newish distributor (yeah, I think that price was for a used part!) Obviously I've made a commitment to this car this year. And why not? It's a Civic. Even the tow dude said, yeah, that's a great car; lasts forever!

Define forever.

Today I finally found a replacement battery for my clicker. It's only been about a month. Everywhere I went that particular battery was sold out. One kid at the Lowes tried to sell me another number. "I know the number doesn't match but that's cuz there's two of them in the package." Really? That's okay Baby I'll wait, stay in school, study hard, learn a trade.

You won't believe this. It's not the battery. Ah....that would explain why both clickers died at the exact same time. I believe it might be the receiver in the car. Perfect. So now the car runs great, but the locks don't work, the volume button on the radio is jacked, the windows might go back up if you put them down, and I'm afraid to put anything of value in the CD player. Oh, and biker beware if you mount your steed on top of my vehicle; it melts forks for fun.

Have I mentioned I don't even use my car? So yeah, I just spent $740 on an ugly piece of rusted lawn art. I would have been better off to leave it sit, save $700 bucks, and buy $40 worth of lights to decorate the damn thing.

Merry Crossing

2011-12-05T22:12:00.001-05:00

What flies through the air, is puffy and round, and red all over? Mustn't be Santa. But it might be a distracted holiday shopper flying through town in a red mini cooper. WATCH OUT!

Have you ever been driving down the street and seen a pedestrian on the side of the road standing in or around a clearly marked crosswalk? And you know the law is to stop, but you hesitate, thinking, if you wave this person on and the other speeding traffic doesn't stop....well, indirectly you may be responsible for killing some poor schmo?

Yeah, my day was like that. There I was at the newly designed intersection, you know the one, over on Little Falls. Zig-zag trail, paint, signs, sign....to make the passage safer. And there I was obeying the law like all the drivers want...waiting my turn, in the crosswalk, stopping in the center...

You know this intersection right? The trail is five inches from the red light. And yet cars manage to careen around that 90 degree turn and accelerate into 45 mph neglecting the speed signs, trail signs, pedestrian and bike signs, and striped crosswalk. Clearly it's the bikes causing the problems.

Like when I stopped in the center face to face with a black SUV. Who stopped. And waved me on. Into the intersection. Onto my death. See, I didn't trust the teeny red car I saw duck behind the SUV so I hesitated at this front passenger bumper...

I had a front row view to what death looks like right before it hits. And all I could do was stare at both bumpers. I wanted to see the driver's face. I wanted to turn around to see the horror in the SUV's face. But all I saw was my front wheel and two steel bumpers. I missed the whole thing.

I guess I had to. Since I was already paused in my track stand waiting for it to happen there wasn't much to do except, well, actually turn my wheel to avoid the collision. Yep, it was that close. She hit the crosswalk at a good clip, caught sight of me, panicked, and slammed on the brakes. There was a momentary loss of control as her car skidded even closer and then the hands that flew up as a sort of surrender...like, "I know that was my fault I'm so so sorry"

It was a bit like my dream. The one where I die. Since I've had that dream I've had two of these unbelievable close calls. The first the pedestrians on the sidewalk screeched in horror and I'm sure this one brought on adrenaline rushes across the street. Neither one did a thing to me. No, that was close, no heavy breath, no missed heart beats. Just, ho hum, here we go again...

Paint that's Red
Almost dead
Crosswalk White
Fight or Flight
Wasn't Santa, Wasn't Santa

Tirony

2011-11-30T14:27:00.001-05:00

So the mechanic says, what's it doing? Me: it's not printing.

It all started yesterday. That's when my printer and my laptop started this ugly feud. First the printer wasn't speaking to the computer. Then the computer stopped talking to the printer. They both worked fine just not together.

I gave them a moment to think about the ink. But the computer thinks it's just fine on its own as does the printer. It was a tennis match of it's-not-me-it's-you and we were stuck in deuce hell. Those independent all-in-ones are difficult to deal with you know. And computers, well, they would just rather get the latest, greatest model and be done with it. Who wouldn't?

So today I gave in. Clearly if these two couldn't get along and communicate the relationship was over. I don't have time to deal with the bickering. ERROR ! X ! Fine. The printer would take custody of the ink and the computer was welcome to stay. I would find it another colored partner (can we say that?)

But here's where it gets complicated. Apparently the car sided with the printer. So when I introduced the key to the car the Civic stuck out its tongue and said ppttthhbb. It did, it sounded just like that. ppttthhbb Huh. So how do I get a printer home now? I wasn't really looking for a fits-in-my-backpack-variety printer.

So I call AAA. I'm fairly certain it's not the battery...everything seems to work fine in the car; I know it sounds like the printer. Really, WHAT is going on?! Back on the phone, maneuvering through the automated menu proves too much for the phone and it dies.

I finally get confirmation that it's not the car battery and the tow truck comes. My shop went out of business so I'm heading to a gas station. I throw a bike in the car and hitch a ride with my tow. That is AFTER, I find a bike with two air filled tires. YES, that too. How's that for funny?

More Signs

2011-11-29T14:22:00.000-05:00

It was that kind of day.

Pee Careful

2011-11-04T16:48:00.003-04:00

People always warn you about doing certain things alone. "It's not safe!" they scream. Camping, hiking, biking....but the thing is if you sit around waiting for someone to play with you get old waiting.

Here's the other thing...people never warn you about other things, like stepping off a curb, getting in an elevator, or peeing alone. In fact they even create little stalls to keep the other people out, for example, while peeing.

And would you rather get hurt freestylin' down a singletrack mountain bike trail or relieving yourself in a public restroom? How'd I get this scar? Well, that one I got when the locker room stall exploded like a transformer onto my head. Mmmm....lacking a little je nais se quoi, no?

Besides, I'm careful. When I ride solo, I ride cautious. I don't go all out. True, today was a little harder riding hurt AND solo, but when your friends are all at work what can you do? Yes, the doctor earned his degree...I AM hurt.

My fingers are dragging. Good news is driving is harder than riding because of the position of my elbow. However, braking...problematic, on the bike that is. You see, I brake with two fingers while holding on for dear life with the other two. Those other two...somewhat unresponsive. C'est la vie.

The Nerve

2011-11-03T18:41:00.002-04:00

So the bike did fine today, finally. I even drove the crank into a rock and she stayed solid. The rider...not so much. My crank is a bit tingly, but you probably already knew that, it's not new.

What's new is the diagnoses. Yes, my work injury RSVPed diagnosis plus one. I'm sorry doc what? Triangular Fibrocartilage Complex AND Ulnar Nerve Entrapment? From a bathroom door? You know I've always seen those women who use a paper towel to open the door...I. Had. No. Idea.

He's good. I wanted to talk about my right wrist. The cracking concerned me. Yeah, yeah and tingling in the left hand. Can we get back to the right wrist? He threw big words at me to shut me up. I said, huh, that sounds bigger than the culprit. He said, you're no dummy.

Now tell me about the left hand...Does it hurt when I do this? This? How bout this? No. But will my wrist lock when it pops like that? Clearly, I'm still obsessed with the wrong extremity. He points out that he's way more concerned about the left. Yeah, that's what everyone says.

He tries a few party tricks with me. Cute. He causes my arm to go weak. Neat. Tingly. Wow. Numb. Cool. Can you stop please? I never mentioned the funny bone theory, he found it all on his own. Told me, that's what he's trained to do. He's no dummy either.

Really? Really, really? I'm really hurt? I might not need surgery? Whoa, slow your roll there doc. This was just a check in; there was nothing really wrong. I feel fine. See, fine. It was just a door!

So to recap....I've got Carpool Tunnel in my elbow. I don't even drive a car! Oh, and some torn cartilage in my wrist. From a bathroom door. But the bike is fine. And I am officially scared of public restrooms now. Thanks.

Left Humerus

2011-11-01T23:30:00.000-04:00

There I was doing my business...relax, relax, they aren't bullet holes. And I wasn't shot, but I was injured. Now where was I...

Right, there I was with my drawers in one hand and a door in the other. It's not often you come out of a public restroom with your underpants in your hand, but it's even rarer that you come out with the door on your head either.

That's right! The door was in my hand and not in the I'm-going-to-exit-the-stall-now kind of way. More like don't-let-this-freaking-heavy-door-land-on-my-head-neck-or-toe kind of way. I'm not entirely sure how, but I sort of 'caught' the door and 'placed' it on the floor. All while standing there in my underpants!

Makes a girl think about wearing long pants to and from the actual locker in the locker room when visiting the wash closet. Imagine getting knocked out by a stall door and having your boss come in while you're lying there out cold in your panties on the nasty bathroom floor. But then, who expects to get attacked by a stall door anyway. Could scare the shit out of you....sorry couldn't resist.

But this is truly no laughing matter. And you can clearly see, the hinges are still in tact. This wasn't me pulling the door off the hinges, the damn anchors came clear out the wall! So this was the door AND frame crashing in on me as I was exiting the bathroom, yes, yes, IN my underpants!

And it still hurts. There is some tingling in my upper arm and hand. I've got some pain in a couple fingers when I grasp something in a certain way. Nurse Judy says tingling ain't good. But I don't think it's that bad.

There's just this spot on your elbow, you know the one, it drives the ill-named funny bone...it's a bit sore. When you push on it, as is normal, it causes a pins and needles sensation down your arm. Well, that, is on steroids! It's more like pitons and railroad spikes.

The ride home was a tad uncomfortable. My arm was tired and sore. Tweaking and twisting a handicapped stall-sized door is no easy feat. But a girl's gotta get home. Where it's SAFE to pee in private. Phalanges still tingling...

PS....HAPPY BIRTHDAY DR J! (from me and Nurse Judy)

To Tell the Truth

2011-10-31T21:03:00.001-04:00

Who am I to argue with God?

Fool Marathons

2011-10-30T17:22:00.002-04:00

Winning Tshirt of the day: Running Sucks. Runner Up (so to speak): I don't do marathons, but I do do marathon runners.

It was nice to get back on the bike for the annual MCM this year. For the past several I've been running my own personal mini marathon. And yes, I do get a medal for it.

Chasing Marathon Bob around the course on foot is beyond my athletic ability. Riding with him by bike is almost beyond my athletic ability. Oh, I wish I was exaggerating.

I must say, I've become a huge fan of riding marathons. Not a typo, riding, was intentional. Running them, not so much. I gave it a go...once. That was enough. Since then, my body rules.

See, turns out we had a conflict of interest, me and my body. I thought I wanted to run 26.2 miles. It knew it didn't want to. I was clearly out of my mind, but unfortunately there's no out of my body. And for that one very long day, very long, we agreed to disagree.

Since then we have come to a mutual compromise. I'm allowed to run HALF marathons, but FULL marathons must be done by bike. We couldn't be happier. Me and my body and my bike! Closed roads, no traffic, inspiration around every corner, NO entry fee.

Helmets off to those who try. Especially those, like me, who spend the day pounding the pavement...Five plus hours, running more miles than many people can bike! Think about it. A 25 mile bike ride for many is unimaginable. And these folks are running it! Cue the tears....

Pure Ecstasy

2011-10-28T21:38:00.001-04:00

This morning I woke to the most amazing 40 minutes in bed. Eventually that is. I even gave up my morning commute to draw it out just 20 minutes more. I thought about it all day hoping to pick up tonight where we left off.

But I don't really feel like drinking again tonight. Not that it was that much, but apparently it was enough. And it's not like I didn't consider the consequences; I passed out clutching a bottle of Gatorade.

I know the importance of hydrating throughout the night. Dehydration is a bitch, like detoxing the toxin. But I only had two beers. Two. Okay, twoish beers and twoish near beers. That's not really four. No cause for alarm.

But a friend told me later you have to alternate. Beer, water, beer, water. You can't just catch up mid-night. I thought that's what I did? Near beer, as you well know, comes with a water chaser, right there in the same glass! But I still chugged the gator as I slept, just in case.

Didn't work. Still woke fitful and tossing as the headache engulfed my vice. Fine. I slugged myself downstairs and grabbed the magic elixir. The amen in a bottle. The pill in my pillow. And oh what a pillow it was. I can still feel it pulled close nuzzling against my groggy face.

The Excedrin did its job; did it real good. It washed out the ache like a tide pulling back to sea. In 10 seconds flat. Like Percocet with an E. Just five more minutes....prrrrrrrr

Tightening the Belt

2011-10-27T20:09:00.000-04:00

My Giant bill is turning into, well, a GIANT BILL. And extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures. I hate to say it, but I might have to stop biking. There, I said it.

I just can't keep up. Feeding my 'engine' just got expensive again. What once was gas now comes in a plain brown paper bag (and btw we are going to be paying for that soon too!)

In the beginning I had hefty start up costs for sure...gear, bags, lights, bike bling...it was expensive. Eventually, however, commuting by bike made me money. My insurance rates dropped, I never went to a gas station, and I hadn't seen the inside of a Jiffy Lube in a lot longer than a jiffy. It was like a 5% raise, which unfortunately still left me 5% in the hole, but whatever....

But now I'm upside down like a well intended home owner in an unfair, mismanaged mortgage. My grocery bill is thiefing my wallet! I dread the necessary routine of watching the register roll faster than a gas pump. And I just can't figure out how to exist without food. But if I rode less, I'd eat less, and bingo bango have more money. My starving food bill trumps my gas budget like a cribbage Lurch.

THAT'S TOO MANY!

Did Someone Say Grace?

2011-10-24T21:51:00.002-04:00

It was, in one word, amazing. What once was lost, now is found. Twice in the same day!

While on vacation, my mother lost her car keys. On a trail. While hiking. If you ask her, it was my fault. You see I was on another trail with a busted chain and I made the mistake of calling her so she wouldn't worry. My mistake.

Her version from here goes like this: I called. She pulled out her phone like a rabbit out of a hat TADA! And she says this must have been when her keys made their daring escape. Hurtling amongst the woods, foliage, and wildlife.

Like a needle in a haystack. She says, but a key is much bigger than a needle. To which I responded, yes, and the WOODS much, much bigger than a haystack!

Meanwhile in the city....an out of towner experiences a parallel universe. Well, it wasn't her keys, but a license. And the woods were cars, the wildlife people, and the foliage...well that was still foliage. And my chain...fully in tact, thank god.

And I rolled up on her license and threw it in my pocket. This wasn't my first ever find but the easiest reunion I ever made. Consult facebook. Match name and picture to license. Confirm hometown. BINGO...it's a match! Send message. License and owner reunited.

Back in the woods....Ranger Nick was making the rounds. And you'll never guess what was found... Now my mom says her keys must have been stolen by a cheeky chipmunk. See, it's never her fault. Still, in her defense, those chipmunks were a bit unruly.

Whilst I was reading one afternoon, one jumped right up on my arm and stared me in the eye. It may very well have been the same one that kept jumping in my crate and chirping around my digs. These crazy critters were worse than a cat cruising an ice cream bowl.

But like the one staring me down on the edge of my sleeve, they wanted food, not keys. I can't imagine why they'd shove a key to a Toyota in their expandable cheek. Unless....do you think they knew it was stashed with food?

The Core of the Problem

2011-10-23T15:55:00.000-04:00

Welcome to DC’s only CycloX race. We have no BMX tracks, no pump courses, no mountain bike trails, incomplete bike paths, and ONE CCX race. Do you really want to ask WHY we ride on the road?

Chris Core is constantly on the attack for why cyclists ride on the road, “when there is a perfectly good trail RIGHT there”. Now I’ve met Core, he’s a nice guy. We even had a nice long chat about bikes on the road. Most of what he says is reasonable.

Most. Some of what he says is ridiculous. Take his Share the Road, Share the Rules rant. He wants cyclists to behave like every other vehicle on the road. Well, I wish we could. But until EVERY vehicle on the road treats EVERY vehicle on the road equally that’s just not in my best interest.

He also believes we should wait our turn at a traffic light. Meaning, if there is a line of cars at a light we, as cyclists, should not proceed to the front of the line. Here’s the obvious issues with that…you push me all the way right on the road and then take it away at the light? Why shouldn’t I proceed in ‘my lane’ if no one else is in it? I will respect your turn signal if and when you use it.

Even if I arrive first at a light, cars don’t respect the fact that I am standing there. I have been honked at, cussed out, cut off, turned into, and even hit while waiting for the light. If we are treated equally and I am in front NO vehicle should be allowed to turn right on red IN FRONT OF ME. That would be like making a right on red from the left hand lane in front of other cars…it’s not legal. But perfectly okay, if said vehicle is a bike.

Lights are not timed for me. I cannot trip the sensor on some lights. I am not yielded the right of way at four way stop. I am afraid when I enter circles, pass by on/off ramps, travel some high volume roads.

I am cut off by buses, taxis, and drivers turning right. I am pulled out in front of. Pedestrians step out in front of me. Parkers open doors into me. Drivers park in my lane. There is debris on the shoulder. The trails are unplowed.

I am unprotected by a thick coating of metaled armor. Preyed upon on poorly designed trails. I am refused service in drive thrus. My speed is misjudged and drivers continue to make poor decisions that affect me.

Sometimes I choose to ride on the road and sometimes I have no choice but to. No matter which, I always have a right to ride on the road. And let’s be honest, we all break the law, riders and drivers alike. But believe me, when I do it's for the sake of my safety not to spite it.

Thems the Brakes

2011-10-21T23:30:00.000-04:00

You are not going to believe this, but I can't make this stuff up! On my second attempt at a mountain bike ride this October my bike turned up lame.

And again, I was out on the trail without the proper tool. So I thought what the hell, I can't ride, how 'bout a game of Operation!?

Yeah, the childhood stresser a little like Perfection. In Perfection you put odd shapes into teeny tiny holes. In Operation you took odd shapes out of teeny tiny holes. As a child I played with both.

Good thing cuz now I needed a little bit of both. So I borrowed a friend's needle nose...I know, who brings needle noses (I think that should be needlenice right?) anyway, who brings pliers on a ride? Smarter people than me that's who.

So I borrowed some pliers and went to work on my personal version of Cavity Sam. Take the brake pads out. Remove the spring I just learned all about from Patapsco Pete. Bend, twist, flatten, bend, twist, squeeze. Place pads in spring. Replace pads for rotor. BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ. Minus the red light.

I was desperate. I'm just really not good enough to be flying over Patapsco with only a front brake, you know? Not interested in joining the OTB club. That's Over The Bar and it's not good. It usually ends in a broken collar bone. They weren't odds I was willing to take. I didn't want to become Cavity Sam.

Yes, I realize you shouldn't need to adjust brakes on a ride, but you might. You shouldn't really break a chain either, you know what I'm saying....? So if brakes aren't seated correctly and they jostle and twist, and you end up shredding metal and then bad things happen.

Shredding metal. I like. How was your ride? Yeah, dude I was soo smokin the trail I was totally shredding metal....

Fun Bust

2011-10-18T20:04:00.000-04:00

The Ford Giveth and The Ford Taketh Away.

Riding the high of last night's lane discovery, I was sideswiped at the bank. Figuratively...literally would prove the money mongrels right.

For 6 months I've been taking the trail to the bank, going through the drive thru, and making deposits. Without incident or accident.

Today my streak struck out. Oh, they took my money, but then refused to serve me. Ask the guy in the pickup. In between hitting on me he noted the rudeness of the teller. He asked about my socks. Oh watch this, I'm about to go Alpha Bitch all over their Benjamins.

They said something about the use of a vehicle. I looked down at mine and said, yeah, and? Your point is what?

No Shit,

No Car:

No Service

Liability, my sweet biking ass! You've got three relatively unused lanes and a parking lot spilling into the trail. Not to mention I ride in traffic. The drive thru red tape is crap! And if your business abuts a bike trail I think it should be a law that your establishment is bike friendly.

You can take that to the bank! Just leave your bike at home. Next time I'm saying it's a scooter. SunTrust. Kemp Mill. Lamberton Drive. Silver Spring. Biker Beware.

HOT Lanes

2011-10-17T23:59:00.000-04:00

I can read between the lines and it says BIKE! Maybe this is old news, but I've been on vacation. Right there down the center of my commute is a brand new spanking bike lane! So new it doesn't even say bike lane yet.

At first I thought I was mistaken. But it's striped, newly striped, from the top of the hospital to the bottom of the hill. Right there on the dangerous part of my commute, right outside the ER. Holy Cross Batman! A lane just for me. Me and all the other bikers.

Maybe that CYCLE sign really was for motors and pedals alike. This is a much needed addition, a welcome change. First the lights were timed differently, now this! What the hell is going on?!?

There I was trying to be cranky about my miserable day and the most amazing day of the year silently crept up on me! Silver Spring is showing the bike love! What's next? A bike rack at the gym? Yeah, I know, probably NOT. That's okay, I'm still grrlcotting them.

But thanks for the lanes! And the lights.

Not Enough Cents

2011-10-13T22:30:00.000-04:00

I have my moments. This was one of them. I hadn't the sense to come in out of the rain, so the saying goes. Really.

The thing about rain on a bike is, you get wet. Really wet. Really, really wet. It attacks from above and below. And this was one of those rains.

Oh, you think I'm kidding. Take a look at that picture. That is what your phone looks like as it's about to fritz. It didn't exactly die right there in my hand, but it might as well had.

It rained so hard...how hard was it?

Ha, it rained so hard it turned my phone into a vibrator. No more calls, no more texts, no more pix. Perfect. What I needed was a phone, what I got was a no frill, cheap thrill, sex toy. I always thought the wet part came last. The first pun was intended, the second accidental.

With a phone that did nothing but vibrate, I searched for a public pay phone. They are obsolete dinosaurs now you know. Back in the day I always kept a dime in my shoe. Then a quarter in my Roos. I knew numbers and I had the change to prove it.

But this day left me high and not so dry. I finally found a pay phone and was itching to use it. Problem was, after seven separate searches, all I found was forty-six cents. Four cents shy of the inflated fee for a local call.

I guess I'll just take my vibrator and ride....intended.

LinkedOut

2011-10-10T12:37:00.000-04:00

I should have answered those emails about joining LinkedIn. I'm so glad my mom brought me a small pump to carry in my trusty side pocket today. That should fix everything.

Except maybe a broken chain link. What am I gonna do, blow air at it!? YES, my chain broke. There I was skipping over a stormy rock garden when *PING* like a hamster on a wheel... Not a toothbrush in sight.

This is the second time I've scared a chain right off a bike. The third will come later today... A friend told me a vice grip will get them back on, but not so much off. It's all good...I can get them off *PING*, I'm just not so good with back on.

Color me fantastic! I actually had a chain tool with me on the trail. What are the odds? Oddly enough, no allen wrench...again. I didn't guess I'd need it to change a flat, I had no idea I'd be performing an emergency chainlinkectomy right there on Stony Trail.

I quickly surveyed my surroundings and made a mental inventory of supplies. I considered my teeth more than once, but even the thought made my root canal ache. I tried a tire lever, like that's gonna fix anything. A stick. But the darn chain tool ain't gonna twist without an allen wrench.

Don't think I didn't consider dental floss. I thought, if only I could tie the links back together...just to get back to camp. A tube. Those chainless bikes are looking a whole lot more appealing right about now. If only I had duct tape, that cures everything.

Thanks to a well marked map, I quickly bailed on the trail and hoofed it on the street. That way I at least had the downhills. And boy, did I coast them like it was my job and I worked on commission! I blew right past my family parked at the trail head.

The day didn't go exactly as I planned. A little later on we'd be playing a new version of an old classic...Dude Where's My Car Keys? At least I can push my bike when it's not running.

How many links do you think I can remove before it's too short? Four and still counting...

Grunge Grrl's Version Of F@*# Me Pumps

2011-10-09T11:11:00.000-04:00

Previously....there was mention of a blown tire, questionable air pressure, and a savior pump in some bag....

All dressed up with somewhere to go. There I was with my 'don't shoot me tires'...really, please don't shoot my tires! Been there, done that, don't have a pump.

What did I say about should? That pump that should have been in my commuter bag was not. And my options are now this: don't ride. Not. Strap a floor pump onto my camelbak and head out to the trail. Pause for mental image. Perhaps Not. Make like I'm 10 and just go. Done.

What do I always say...never camp, bike, or boat alone. Well, I'll be sitting here waiting another year if I wait for that! What could go wrong, really? It's a holiday weekend, there are tons of people on the trail. If I need help I'll just ask.

I've got the tube, tire levers, tools....I can change the tire I just need to stop someone for a pump. Or use my pen casing to blow the air into the tube directly. I've seen it whisk patients away from a flat line on TeeVee, surely it can revive a simple flat.

Turns out none of that stuff made it in my pack. Oops. I had a pen and a knife. I could either carve petroglyphs in the pine trees depicting the saga of my ill fated trek...or Specialized as the bike may be (should something happen) or I could take notes for my blog, on my arm.

OR perform a tracheotomy, should the occasion arise...maybe in exchange for a pump?

KAPLOOEY

2011-10-08T13:00:00.000-04:00

THAT is definitely not a snake bite. Definitely NOT. THAT is a full blown blow out. For reals. That tear is longer than my femur!

You should have heard it go. Maybe you did? There are rumors they heard it all the way in Japan. Thought it was a nuke. My neighbors had no idea what it was. Maybe a drive by?

Sounded just like a shotgun to the temple. Well, I assume that's what it might sound like. I've never had a shotgun to the temple. I don't know maybe you don't even have time to register a sound like that before, you know...

So I was getting ready for my next big adventure and decided it was time for the noticeable red tires. They were free, mine were shot, the price was right. I wasn't overly keen about turning my bike into Ronald McDonald but did I mention they were free?

I changed them out, repumped the tires, and let it sit. In the sun. Getting hot. Expanding air. KAPOW. (And not the yummy thai dish I'm crazy about.) Now in my defense, it shouldn't have happened. According to the gauge I was well within range. On the high side for me but still around 50 PSI.

Should and did are the stuff blogs are made of. So they should have been fine, but they did blow up. Must be the pump. The tires did feel overly inflated at a mere 50 PSI, but just to be safe I'm going well under this time. Don't need them blowing up on the freeway doing 75mph. (On top of the car silly, not on the bike! geesh.)

I thought I might double check with my fancy car gauge, but as it turns out even with the adapter the gauge doesn't actually engage the presta tip. Maybe my portable pump? That has a nifty gauge attached. Well, I'll check it at the campsite, it should be in my bag.

This is what writers call foreshadowing...go on you should really keep reading the blog...
TO BE CONTINUED....

Pile of Beans

2011-10-07T00:34:00.000-04:00

We've been making the rounds in the bullying badgering blogs again. Breaking news....the drivers still hate us. They hate the traffic AND the solution. They are just angry; there is no solution.

So they attack us. Because they can. I'm not sure if or how it helps. But I'm learning how to ignore it. It's rather easy when it lacks sense.

Have you heard about one in ten? It's a term used to describe homosexuals. You know, one in ten people...well you can figure it out. My point is that's 10%.

Now I just read on one of these bully the biker blogs (and it's on the Internet so it must be true) that bikers only make up 1% (of what I'm not exactly sure). And I was thinking if one in ten is gay and one in one hundred is a biker, then someone is clearly LYING.

Think about it. 1% of road users are bikers? Just ONE PERCENT? Are you sure? The economy is in the toilet. Jobs are hard to come by. Brick and mortars are closing. Small businesses are failing. And there are over 15 bike shops INSIDE the beltway.

Christ on a Kestrel...another one of those headache causing word problems. Tell me how you get one percent? Wouldn't some of those shops be bankrupt? Who is spending money in a bike shop if not cyclists? That's a whole lot of Energy Beans fueling 15 shops. Or a handful of cyclists frequenting a shit ton of shops.

I believe maybe 1% drive Arks. Oh and LOOK, you can stash them at the Whole Foods in Georgetown, perfect!

Lunch Seen

2011-10-06T16:00:00.000-04:00

Cutie Patootie

I see you're single....CALL ME.

Can We SAY It Was Terrorism

2011-10-03T22:57:00.000-04:00

I had the silly notion to drive today. To save time. That's the funny part. Driving to save time.

If car C leaves the home at 7AM and bike B also leaves the home at 7AM what time do they both pull into the station? Exactly 4 minutes apart. That's the answer, 4 minutes.

What's 4 minutes get you? FAT. Sure, I saved 4 whole minutes, but got zero work out. So essentially I LOST 40 minutes. Grand. I was never good at word problems.

It's cool, it's been a long day. I'm deliriously tired. Not a good idea to teeter on two wheels to get home. I thought I might get a nap today. That's also why I drove. Sleeping on a bike makes sleeping in a car feel like bunking at the Venetian (minus the second floor).

I knew it was going to be a long, hard day. In the business we have our tip offs. This morning I quickly noticed the hovering helicopters circling the city, like guard dogs. Us TV geeks are tuned into that. Oh man, that isn't a good sign, I thought. Must hurry to work.

For a city known for its terrorism, I couldn't help but notice all the cars still moving TOWARD the impending danger.What is wrong with these people? Have they not had enough drama in the workplace?

Turn around! Go home young man! Run. Flee. Be Free. Don't you see those helicopters dotting the horizon? There beneath the clouds. The F16s are probably just above, waiting for word. To attack. The copters watching patiently, perched on the edge of the city like....oh, right, n.e.v.e.r.m.i.n.d....

Us TV geeks sent them there. Traffic choppers. Right. Of course. That's all it was. Every day, ordinary, morning activities. Things I usually sleep through. Here I thought it was terrorists coming to destroy our day, and disrupt our lives, and cripple our city. Roger that.

The copters dangling in the sky like a participle. Like a Miami-Dade chiding chad. Shooting menacing, gruesome pictures of a typical morning commute. Like you haven't already seen it. Like you want to see it right before you walk out the door. Like you won't see enough of it sitting in it. Thanks for that!

EMERGENCYCLE

2011-09-29T01:34:00.000-04:00

Drunk Dude in the road will jump out in front of you and scream at you. I guess all that didn't fit on the sign. USE CAUTION does cover it, but I thought they meant the grooved pavement. I was somewhat unprepared for Drunk Dude.

"Call 911 Sir, I've just been assaulted" Now it was my turn to do something. And I swerved and pedaled on. No, I never looked back. This wasn't a comatose guy on a tricycle. I did nothing.

He was lunging into the street demanding I take action. Now I'm not up on my liquor bouquets, but I strongly believe that basenote was octane. Or at least flammable. And he didn't appear assaulted, but I'm no expert.

Lucky for him those guys on the right are. I hate to point out the obvious, oh who are we kidding I LOVE that, you might actually get a quicker response on your left. There, that brightly lit building...I'm fairly certain it's open. And I bet they have phones. They might even have a direct line, bypassing 911 altogether.

Yes, there, that one, the one that says HOSPITAL. Really. If you go around to the side they can dial 911. In fact, if you were truly assaulted, they are uber trained for that. There, under the EMERGENCY sign, the doors should open when you walk up. You may have to wait, but the phone call, immediate. Best of Luck.

Tally Whoa!

2011-09-26T20:21:00.001-04:00

I don't mean to be picky, but this is getting ridiculous. I got off the trail, tried to enter the roadway, and was pushed up on the sidewalk. Traffic. I found traffic in my lane. FACING ME. Since when did Chevy Chase become Jolly Ole England??

I was recently attacked, perhaps you saw it, on my own facebook page by a friend claiming I was 'one of those bike commuters'. And by those, I think I mean always wrong. Everyone else is always right, but bikers are typically always in the wrong.

So yesterday, I was almost broadsided by a hummer who failed to completely stop at the four way stop that I had just stopped at and wrongly continued through. Last night a car at a stop light turned right into me without choosing to use a turn signal. I wrongly assumed it was going straight. Then I almost got hit by a silent ambulance screaming through an intersection. I wrongly assumed green means go. And then today I was run off the road by a black vehicle of which I was unable to obtain the plate number on because did I mention I WAS BEING RUN OFF THE ROAD. I wrongly assumed we were sharing it.

Then, I wound up in England. Say what? I don't think I need to point out these cars were on the wrong side of the road. But I stand corrected. They were forced to use this side of the roadway thanks to one of 'those bike riders' blocking the other side.

It's true, there on the other side was a guy on a bike sitting in the middle of the road. Just sitting there. Blocking traffic. The nerve of him. And so who can blame these poor drivers trying to rush into their neighborhood and into the safety of their plushly furnished homes?? Of course they had to drive on the other side. How would they get home?

The guy. Still sitting there. I counted five cars as I rode past on the sidewalk. Five cars drove on the wrong side of the road into their neighborhood to evade the inconsiderate, arrogant biker taking up an entire lane of their street.

No one seemed to notice or mind that he wasn't moving. Oh, I guess they probably noticed he wasn't moving his bicycle, but he himself wasn't moving. Not his feet, not his hands, not his head, not even his eyes as far as I could tell.

The bike, it was an adult tricycle. No one I know rides one of these because they want to; they have to. This signals to me that maybe the man has some type of physical or mental ailment or handicap. And there he sat on a tricycle, in the middle of the street, not moving, ALONE. And no one bothered to question this, they just drove around instead.

Really? A handicapped man on an adult tricycle....and no one recognized him? In a neighborhood. Tell me do you think he was out training for a century and just got tired? I don't suspect he could have been far from home. And yet no one stopped. And I'm inconsiderate!

Someone finally did. Someone blocked traffic for him and eventually got out of his car to investigate. I suppose everyone else was too busy, or in a rush to get home to watch The Talk on CBS. I can only hope someone was dialing 911 at the very least.

BOO!

2011-09-22T21:59:00.001-04:00

I take back what I said about cameras. If I had had one mounted on my bars today I wouldn't have behaved any better and I might have had some good video.

Today was carfree day in DC and to that I say, Bring Back the Cars. I am entirely safer swallowed by vehicular metal. The sea of walking flesh another story entirely.

Let's cut past the chase (and the boats, right? they should really be more specific when labeling an event 'car'free). Today, I hit my first pedestrian. WHAT!?! Pedestrian. Hit. My. What, you know he deserved it. My ex says people can think for themselves. She thinks intelligence still runs rampant. I think it was phased out somewhere in the 90s. And today I may have proved it.

I know there's some law about pedestrians in crosswalks, but tell me you haven't wanted to hit one or two or ten. And depending on how tight he was in his loafers I technically may have not even pinched his skin, but I most definitely scuffed his fancy footwear.

Yes, he was in the crosswalk, I think we established that, but I had the green light. There were tons of them crossing against the light. You know you hate it. I hate it more. Howard students, these are even the brighter ones. Maybe not so much. HUH? Ex-act-ly.

I scooted behind him and at the last second he picked his head up out of his hand. Of course he was texting. And not looking. And walking. In traffic. Just like our mothers taught us. And in an effort to prove my ex decidedly wrong, he then 'decided' to change directions and step back INTO me. Would now be a good time to point out the phones are smart, the owners, not so much.

I slammed on the brake and wiped half my tire across 7th Street. I kept the bike upright, barely, as the offender quietly backed up on the sidewalk, where his fellow co-eds were laughing. At me or him? Who knows, but I hope the treads I left on his shoe remind him to look up every now and again. It's the Hamburger Generation.

Yes, Deer

2011-09-21T22:11:00.000-04:00

Be a Hero, Not a Zero. Who wants to watch video of a bike commute? It's boring, mostly. And long. Tree, tree, goose.

If I'm mounting a camera on my helmet or handlebars, I want something to happen. Anything. Shoulder brushes, swerving lushes, "GET OFF THE ROAD" cusses. Something.

Without, it's an uneventful hour of a straight, white line. Yawn. Boring. BooTube. I can count the hits now, ZERO.

I'm just skeptical, that's all I'm saying. Tape can lie. Video can be taken out of context, edited, skewed to fit a need. Trust me television does it all the time. And I'm not saying it doesn't happen, the bad things to bikers...they do.

We are run off the road, cursed, bumped, intimidated, harassed. Bumper Bullying should be outlawed. It's dangerous. This isn't shoving a pimple-headed pubescent in a gym locker. It's just as adolescent and completely unpunishable. People, it's a bike and a car...with a life pinned between!

The disregard for life astonishes me sometimes. Do you hear what you are saying? But...at least I'm not a deer. The solution for getting them off the road...Let's SHOOT 'em! Duck, duck, bush.

Change?

2011-09-14T16:16:00.007-04:00

I couldn't help but notice the severe lack of personnel in Vegas. Even Vegas? Yep, it seems even Sin City is not immune from the crumbling economy.

I haven't been to Vegas in about a decade. The sentiment is the same, but boy how times have changed. The buildings come and go, the neon lights still a-glow, but the casinos...much less flow.

10 years ago I slipped in and out of the aisles plunking quarters as I went. Occasionally they hit. $5.00, $25.00, $80.00! I easily dropped as much. I flirted and teased the one armed bandits. They never got the best of me, but they ate up all my change.

Quarter slots ruled the floor. Nickles were big. Pennies rare. Good luck commandeering one of those machines. A 68 year old, leathered skinned, smoked soaked corpse had likely set up base camp with a gin and Misty menthol.

Today, Penny Slots are the rage. At least my rage. They are neither Penny nor Slot. No need for a slot when there's no greed for the penny. It's all about the paper. Redeemable ticket, that is. There's no coins in Vegas, not on the strip. Or change babes, money fillers, or even watchful eyes....they've got cameras for that...oodles of them.

So I left with a pocketful of change. Change I would have otherwise left behind. All tolled, I guess I lost about ten bucks. I was poised to lose a hundred. Oh well. I also only won about 63 cents. Cents? That's not even a character on a keyboard.

Change for the Homeless? That's where all the coins go! Do you take redeemable tickets? Yeah, ten to one I bet you do. And the shows still rob you blind, so you know, they're getting theirs one way or the other.

Hail No, We Won't Go

2011-09-05T11:47:00.004-04:00

The Washington area has been hard hit by a bout with Mother Nature. Hail storm, hurricane, tornado, earthshake. Nothing widespread BAD, just Mom Nature being a tease.

I mean, my neighborhood lost a few limbs, but no major trees were down. Basements weren't flooded. No significant damage to speak of. But it did RAIN, ergo, the power went dark.

I can't imagine it was a force of nature. I heard a rumor the electrons simply walked out. In the middle of a storm! Their contract was up and negotiations had been slow and tedious. Upon reaching an impasse, their union rose up and decided to take advantage of the weather to send a clear and direct message to the members, company, and the public.

To make matters worse, in a show of solidarity Freon also walked out. Yeah, you know, the frigid gas: refusing to work...go figure. It's a well known fact they are extremely cold and lacking in ardor; I think they may be making a mistake.

But I guess with the introduction of Tetrafluoroethane the writing is on the wall. With several grievances left unanswered, and the recent development in their negotiations, basically talks went cold, Freon joined the likes of Current and went out on Strike. They too, are at odds with the Company over two main issues, most notably the constant lack of power.

On the flip side, the Company, staying away from the HR nightmare of compaining about their warmth of personality, cites public pressure to protect the environment. Something about a hole in the ozone or some nonesense (according to Freon Sources). But CFCs do endanger the ozone layer of the entire planet, I'm just saying...

Meanwhile back in my freezer, the natural chunk of ice I rescued from the summer hail storm was left to sweat the consequences of the striking labor forces. No power, no Freon, no freeze. I heard Dry Ice is willing to cross the picket line, but fortunately they all got back to work before I had to decide.

American Portrait

2011-08-29T21:22:00.006-04:00

....ironically, does not begin with a photograph....

Picture it...I was damn near doored on the way to work today. And...? Yes, yes, on the left. I was almost doored from the LEFT! I was not on the sidewalk and the car was not parked.

"What the FUCK is wrong with you!? You have a brand new baby in the car and you're slamming the fucking door?!!"

I could hear the screaming from the front seat over the door slamming in the back. Oh good, the pill is still regulated, drinking age restricted, and a license still required to operate a motor vehicle--babies, still popping out-- no responsibility necessary.

They do suggest a Mozart concerto for zygotes marinating in the womb. I'm not sure about post-popping, but I'm guessing door slamming is not so soothing to the cooing newborn. But really Mom, let's talk about your relationship with the shouting, cursing asshole in the front seat.

The beauty of the bike is it gives me a personal tour of Americana up close and personal like. And I hate to burst your bubble, but it's not so Norman Rockwellesque. Sometimes...

A few miles away, we have a puppy story, and who doesn't love puppies? In one corner we have Senor Perro Owner, rein in one hand, rein in the other. Two dogs stretched in either direction.

In the other a mirror image of Mademoiselle Chien Owner, leash hand, leash hand, dogs...intermersed and betwixt t'other...

RIGHT FRONT PAW....GREEN!

One Less Cop

2011-08-28T17:17:00.003-04:00

I felt like the winner of the Tour de Crescent, except no one shoved a flute of Honest Tea in my hand at the end. The escort--not exactly necessary

I don't mean to be disrespectful, really I'd rather see cops on the trail than not, but don't they have bikes for that? Motor or pedal I'm not overly picky. I just don't feel like we should have to rally for One Less Car on the bike path!

And here I was worried about the deterioration of the plastic on their bike helmets when they leave them in their stifling hot cars. I had no idea they were that 'for show'. FYI, if you're looking for downed trees...you're going the wrong way!

But where were you 'bout a half mile back? Air Rights Tunnel. You've heard of it...can't so much see it, but could have used an escort there. Yeah, it's a wee bit dark.

I got to be someone's Hero...okay, maybe just 'Ro (it wasn't that great). Lights can come in handy, especially after Irene. "we'll just ride behind you".

BreEZy Pass

2011-08-26T22:08:00.002-04:00

Yo G'burg Ear Up! There's a new trail in town and it's currently a critical path to nowhere. And it's up to you to make a difference.

I'm not entirely sure how it happened but a multi-use trail sprung up alongside the ICC. Citing financial concerns last I heard it wouldn't be built. But it's there now!

Unfortunately Gaithersburg doesn't care. It's no Rockville. If LAB offered a Bike Friendly Community-COAL award they'd be up for it.

Okay, it's not really that bad, but it's close. There's no noticeable bike routes, the sparsely lain bike lanes are about a foot and half in width, and the cops are pulling over cyclists for riding on the sidewalk. Apparently it's illegal in their city limits.

The ICC is like Gold in a down economy...for drivers and cyclists. It's a flat, straight, uncongested shot from GA to the Pike. As a driver you need an EZ pass to use it, and I can ride it for free. The irony of that is, I would likely pay to use it, it's that cool. But G'burg's gonna have to lane up first!

Business Casual

2011-08-25T01:22:00.002-04:00

Really more business than casual. AND kicking my ass! I ain't too proud to put it out there. This chick in 9 to 5 wear and heels cleaned my clock on the CCT.

That's nothing. On the way home I was...going to say neck and neck with a caterpillar...until I considered, "does a caterpillar have a neck??" No matter, I was...S...L...O....W......

Here's the good news: the light at East West? Fixed. No need to push the button anymore, we are back on a regular cycle. Yeehaa. And the light at Georgia? It's unconfirmed but I believe it may have been adjusted so that a regular human being can cross the street safe and legal.

So go ahead lead the way in your heels and chenille...nothing can brake my happy cycle.

Gary Gnu Would Have Done It

2011-08-24T00:52:00.003-04:00

What a long and interesting day. It begs an answer to the question: if the earth shakes while you are riding a bamboo frame, would you even feel it? And sadly, I may never know.

I was picking mail up off the floor when it started. It sounded like an attic fan rumbling to a start. I didn't feel a thing. I heard someone saying, "what was that?!?" as I walked around the corner to find my boss straddling the door jamb mumbling something about an earthquake. I heard it in stereo as someone else echoed the sentiment.

And then I definitely felt it as things around me fell to the floor. I still didn't feel the urge to bum rush the doorway, but it seemed important so I did. I would have rather been outside. But I'm afraid I would have missed the whole thing.

What was my very first comment? Really? You have to ask? Something about a night of suck I'm sure. I wonder what it's like to have something like this affect you and just think about YOU. Instead of, I have to get to work, or oh god, I'll be stuck in audio all night, or guess I'm having pizza for dinner....

I have to admit approaching the station and finding a congregation on the curb did make me slightly pause before driving up to the garage door to gain entry. Did I really want to drive into an underground parking garage when the majority of Wisconsin Avenue was standing outside and a 5.8 earthquake just rumbled up the east coast 15 minutes ago? Is this really wise? Necessary, maybe not wise.

I'm finally home, after 7 full hours of news. And I use that term generously. The finials were still damaged at 11:42pm, no new news there. My neighbor described the scene like this: I thought I was having a seizure. Then I looked around and realized everything was having a seizure, it wasn't me.

Parker is fine. Glad to have me home. The earthquake damage is minimal. Not unlike the white chairs on the internet. You see that stick lying on the ground in the picture above? Bottom right. It used to be on the 1x4 above the fireplace. It fell down. That is my earthquake disaster. It might not make the news.

And thank you #Washcycle for finally posting the CaBi map I've been trying to see that all night! No one thought it was a big enough story. That also didn't make the news. Even after 7 hours! I personally think it should have.

Deer Bike Blog:

2011-08-17T01:00:00.002-04:00

They are hard to see here, but it's a cute little family. On the right we have momma and two tiny twins. On the left three more little leapers.

In a car I may not have seen any of them. I found the ones on the right after turning around to watch the ones on the left. I've been watching them grow over the weeks.

They are so cute and trusting. The wee baby came right up to me the other night like a little puppy. It really was knee high to a grass hopper. Or 2/3 of a bike wheel, whichever is taller. That's about 460c.

Soon they will become toddlers and then teens. And they really do. Once the boys start getting their racks...teehee...isn't that interesting and somehow odd...so when the boys start developing their racks, they act a little like inner city thugs or maybe richie burbies trying to be inner city thugs.

No, they aren't flash mobbing the local denim store...they usually do that alone and although they do a ton of damage they don't actually steal anything. But the boys all circle up and take turns clashing antlers. It's the most amazing sound. A cool, foggy night, with the echo of deer testosterone bouncing off the trees.

Yeah, it's awful riding in DC after dark...

Racer Profiling

2011-08-15T19:40:00.002-04:00

So I hear they are pulling cyclists over for running stop signs now. Deliberately staking out areas in hopes of catching the two-wheeled offenders.

Well, I hope it's not just the two-wheelers. That would be somewhat unfair. What about the four-wheeled infractions? I hope they don't give them a thumbs up and drive on....it's been known to happen when drivers commit wrongs.

I know, I know, NONE of them do it. Drivers don't run stop signs or red lights. If they did the county might start installing cameras to try and catch them.

Take case MD-8DDK11. She failed to come to a complete stop at a stop sign and almost killed me in the process. I think she may have been distracted by the hands on cell phone call she was engrossed in.

Yes, yes, she very well may have employed her turn signal-- I hadn't noticed as I rode for my life around her front bumper (perhaps this is an egregious exaggeration, but makes for a better blog). Regardless, she did indeed finally yield right-of-way.

Technically, I suppose she did stop near the Stop Sign. Does that count?

Thread Count

2011-08-14T16:03:00.002-04:00

I was watching Hoarders last night, you know the show where they turn peoples' homes inside out and then the family goes trailer park on each other over the trash in the yard...

Well, I've only successfully gotten through a handful of episodes. My neighbor tried to turn me on to this show over a year ago and I just can't make it through the whole thing. I have the urge to purge before segment three.

So last night I went upstairs and emptied every drawer, closet, crate, and nook and cranny of cloth I could find and dumped it in the middle of the downstairs floor. I once heard, I think Teri Hatcher, say she has her family clean by removing everything from the room and then taking it back piece by piece.

This is genius! That way you have to WANT to put it back. It doesn't work on Hoarders, but, although that pile overwhelms me, I'm far from landing a spot on TV. It just might work.

Reminds me of a time when I was about 9 years old and my dad got tired of telling me to clean up my playroom. What? That's the play at home version of the trash compactor scene in Star Wars. Go on, get in the closet and push on the walls, now scream out like Chewbacca...

So he took a HUGE snow shovel and relocated everything in the room to the basement. Then he informed me when trash pick up was. I've been good about it since, except for clothes. And maybe bikes.

And the clothes have always been a problem. It might be inherited. But that's not an excuse. My goal is to wear it or pare it. The problem is the wardrobe lifestyles...there's the punk ass biker, emergency business, I work in an ice box, angry lesbian, single white female, runner, climber, sexy fiancee..."I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother, I'm a sinner, I'm a saint...."

A little bird.dog told me girls need clothes. We like variety she said. Cute. This coming from a girl with 27 pairs of cargo khakis (that I can SEE). But look, the grease marks on these look like a monkey, see there's the head.... (bird.dog: this is where you laugh at yourself)

So, I embraced today. Who I am right now. I kept the punk ass, emergency biz, ice box variety and donated the rest. Well....almost. My inner angry lesbian still pokes out every now and again. Next up....SHOES!

Smells Like Lemon

2011-08-12T13:15:00.002-04:00

There I was in the backyard just trying to clean my bike, armed with nothin' but a rag and a toothbrush, when it hit me. I mean really hit me. That's right, my chain exploded!

Okay, okay, it came unlinked, she said, as if it were a delicate bracelet with a tricky clasp. It was the chain of a bicycle. I'm just saying.

The unyielding force between you and successfully changing that rear tire yourself. The lifeline between pedals and wheel. The mechanical beast that withstands the constant beating of street and feet...

And I singlehandedly disarmed it with....a soft bristled toothbrush? Have you tried removing a chain? I mean it's not difficult but it does require a specialized tool.

Some shops will add a special link just to forego using a chain tool. But even they, are hard to remove. I am less than successful with the removal of a Quick Link, even after watching the e-How video.

Turns out I was using the wrong tool. It's not Park or Craftsman or even Black and Decker. Oral-B soft. Dentist approved.

I wonder if it works on hubs? Because mine currently feels like someone dumped a box of Grape Nuts in it. Crunchy hub, dismembered chain, loose spoke....maybe it's time for a new mechanic? Then again, this from a girl who cleans her bike with Pledge.

TIny Rocks

2011-08-11T23:24:00.005-04:00

A while back, in honor of 7/11 day, the crew got Slurpees. Strike that, the TALENT got Slurpees, and I gotta say they didn't deserve them.

An unmentioned Talent, Fostered *wink* the idea that Slurpees were for kids. She said something like, when's the last time you had one of these...like it had been ages!

Oh, okay. You know what, just because it comes in a fancy cactus glass with cheesy fruit on top, and spiked with a little courage, don't mean it ain't a Slurpee. You can take it out of the paper cup and remove the plastic hat, but it's still just a Slurpee. An Adult Slurpee, but it's really just a straw in some frozen water mixed with sugar and some fake form of fruit. Yep, Slurpee.

They don't typically make your mouth blue but there is a joint locally where you can get a concoction called a Swirlie. That's adult. You can take the toy out of a Happy Meal, but keep your hands off a Tex Mex Swirlie. Frozen, fun, fancy glass, and some come with a tiny umbrella or plastic monkey hanging off the side.

But you're right....Slurpees are for kids. So are Trix, so stop playing them! PS if you buy a $2 kids' drink it can become adult in a flask...I mean flash. I'll take mine virgin thanks, it's this kid's recovery drink of choice. Enjoy your Recoverite old lady.

and This is Not

2011-08-09T20:41:00.002-04:00

So there I was on the right. Where you want me to be, doing what you want me to do. And there on the left, a passing driver. Good so far. Careful, slow. Yes, yes...

A dirty mind might wander....fine, fine. Cause I got effinghamed in the end! Well, now that does sound a bit...off.

Back to the slow passing driver, on the LEFT. Who, on a downhill, ever so slowly CUT ME OFF to turn RIGHT. Does this fall under the heading of 'what not to do'?

I don't trust them, so it wasn't even close. If I had been riding at speed it would have been ugly. But you know what, if he had hit me, and got caught, who knows if he would have stopped, he would have said, "I didn't see her". And he would have walked because it was dark. Light or no light.

And then there is the curb over on Connecticut. Yes, that again. Well, I think it's a serious problem and I'm inraged that no one is talking about it! I almost wrecked again....it's too tight, too tall. I know what they are trying to do...get us off our bikes in the crosswalk. To make it safer.

Well you know what?? It would be a shitton safer if the drivers got out of their cars at red lights and stop signs too. Then they could push their cars through before getting in and proceeding...but do you think that is ever gonna happen??

This is Right

2011-07-31T13:29:00.007-04:00

This is a remedial post. We've been here before, we'll be back here again, but we could all use a refresher. It's simply a reminder to USE YOUR SIGNAL.

We bikers are an easy target. I'm talking online, print, TV, media. For some reason we are up there with the flag, abortion, gay marriage... People like to raise their opinionated voices about sharing the road (or not as the case often is).

Lately I keep hearing the one about how I'm not allowed to pass on the right. I understand the theory, but don't you pass on the right? If you are driving down Connecticut Avenue on a three lane road are you saying the right lane never passes any car. Not a slow one in the middle trying to straddle the skinny artery? The jam in the left trying to turn across 3 opposing lanes? The smart one who knows there's about 8 traffic cameras in a row right in front of the police sub station?

How about on 14th, same scenario? You've never rolled up on a left turning car and spilled over into the bike lane to pass on the right? It's just not unreasonable to pass on the right is all I'm saying. It often makes good sense. I don't particularly care for when you steal the bike lane to pass when I'm already in it, but look at me sharing the road!

But here's my issue. You push me over as far as the law legally allows, which is shitty. It is. The shoulder is filled with gravel and debris, glass from discarded bottles, remnants of distracted drivers...It's covered in dangerous wet leaves, dirt, mud, banks of plowed snow. The potholes aren't fixed, the grates precariously placed, and drop offs unpredictable.

We ride in the dangerous door zone. Often. The bike lane is painted in it! Pedestrians walk out in front of us ALL the time. Texting, walking, not paying attention. Okay, now let's retouch on signals...

What I'm hearing lately is that we are supposed to act like cars. We aren't allowed to actually ride in the right traffic lane and take it, but we have to respect it? If a car is in front of us we are not supposed to pass it? You would prefer I pass on the left? Really? A line of cars is sitting at a red light and I can't continue on in the lane that I am pedaling in to approach the light? I have to stay 8 car lengths back and risk not making the light because they are timed for cars not me? Come on!

Here is what I do....I consult the blinking lights on the cars in front of me and proceed accordingly. IF a car has a right turn signal on, I don't pass it. It is after all, about to turn right. I respect that. But if a car is going straight, as indicated by not employing a turn signal, why wouldn't I just keep pedaling right along side it?

WHY? Because drivers 'forget?' to use turn signals. Deem them unnecessary? Can't possibly lift their arm to yank the stick on the steering column? Think bikers shouldn't be there anyway! I'm not sure what it is, but it's somewhere between 6.5 out of 10 drivers who actually use them. No one ever admits it, but I see them out there all the time. They cut me off, brush me, honk at me for getting in their way.

Chalk on Asphalt

2011-07-30T15:40:00.003-04:00

I used to have a drawerful of letters. Now I have email. I used to have binders of photos. Click flickr. Checkbook, online. File cabinet of documents, USB stick. Books, e-readers. Address book with birthdays, facebook ate that archive.

Gone are the days of piles of papers, books of stamps, need for pens. Amen. As long as you have a computer you're all set. As long as you don't bump your head, forget your password, or lose an account. God forbid.

But get over it. You'll get a virus, lose a file. Reset your audio library. Outlive your USB stick. Your contacts will go in the drink, the backup will fail, your credit card account will be frozen. And you will survive.

Find the plus side. I could have dropped 75mil on this classic Picasso piece, but instead I joined the finite fanbase. I put a cool $5 into a buckful of chalk and drew it myself. Femme ala Fleur, 2011 Chalk on Asphalt, Yvillo collection. Limited showing...pending rain.

If you have a phobia of losing stuff, this isn't your century. We get it, upgrade it, lose it, break it, simply get tired of it. We don't hold on to much these day. Well, some of us. Others are still hoarding a Betamax in the basement, 8tracks in a drawer, 35mm film. I know bell bottoms came back and old school tunes line the beat in new rap tracks but your parachute pants ain't coming back. Let it go....

The Sun Will Come Out...

2011-07-28T00:50:00.000-04:00

No disrespect to Sassafras but has anyone seen my local brick and mortar? With all this talk about debt ceilings, unemployment, and the economy I couldn't help but notice an empty building down the street.

When did American Business go out of business? Come to think of it, when did NW DC become Detroit?? I might have noticed sooner but I was, uh, working, ironically. What I did notice tonight was the only one business left in the block long building in Cleveland Park...Daddy Starbucks of course.

And unlike Sassafras, no sign will coax my shops back. The signs left on the storefront read "After 57 years..." FIFTY SEVEN YEARS?!?!....Are you serious? Okay, okay, stand down, Sullivans is still here. It's just around the corner and bigger and better than ever. I am serious.

And let's be real. Sassafras is a Beagle! A beagle. Not your lazy Snoopy variety beagle, but a full blown bloodhounded beagle. She'll find her way home. She will, when she's good and ready. It takes a long time to sniff everything at a dog park. Imagine sniffing everything from Cleveland to Takoma Park!

Midnight Snax

2011-07-27T01:12:00.005-04:00

Oh I could have doctored the photo a bit more so you could actually see what I'm talking about....but you see what I'm talking about?!

Preslicely Dear Watson: there in the dark of night is a sliver of road missing. Right there where the bike goes. Someone call Shel Silverstein.

Good thing they put that big metal plate there to protect people from falling in the big gigantic hole in the street. Good thing I saw it there a few nights ago. D.A.Y.S. ago (again with that). What's that? Timmy's in the...Well Holy Hole Bikeman!

So the road is eating tires as midnight snacks? Rolleos. Nice. Right there on Wisconsin Avenue. NOW can you give me three feet?

"It was missing a piece.
And it was not happy.
So it set off in search
of its missing piece.
And as it rolled
it sang this song - "Oh I'm lookin' for my missin' piece
I'm lookin' for my missin' piece
Hi-dee-ho, here I go,
Lookin' for my missin' piece."
— Shel Silverstein

Squeaky's Wheel

2011-07-26T21:40:00.002-04:00

Did you see? They removed the STOP signs from Little Falls. DAYS ago. D.A.Y.S.... Not that anywheel noticed.

Not true, someone just noted it on the listserv. That's it, just noted it. No back and forth. No high fiving. Not even bitching and moaning (I know!). No citing the laws and the codes and the Bible for Christ sake.

Yes, per Code 2.45 Section 5.3b, you won. If you interpret 'vehicle' to mean.... I know, I know, someone has to hold them accountable. Hell, a Master Plan is just a book full of pretty bike drawings and rack dreams if you don't wave it in developers' faces...not that it still does much good.

And it's only an island free of stop signs, so keep squeaking Wheel. They haven't straightened out the crosswalk yet, but who knows they might. If you keep whining maybe they'll pick the damn thing up, give it a good shake, and lay it back down straight across the road. They might.

But I gotta tell you today I rode the road not the trail and it's a lot going on. I'm not sure where to look. There's a sign over there and another over here and two more right there! Oops, was that a crosswalk I just blew through?

Most Important Meal of Your Life

2011-07-13T01:22:00.004-04:00

Did you hear about the woman who was hit in the parking lot of IHOP? This is no joke. She was on her bike and someone backed over her and stopped. Workers inside along with patrons ran out to her rescue and lifted the truck off her as she was turning purple. LIFTED the TRUCK off her.

That being said...IHOP to save a life? Eat a Stack, Save a Rack? Breakfast of Lifesavers...oh, maybe not that one...I'm seeing eggs and cherry flavored candy. IXNAY.

But seriously, Dennys, your Lumberjack special, please? Get your morning energy from an IHOP panniercake. Meals for Wheels? Breakfast, good enough for dinner.

And New Jersey? (That's where it happened.) You need to kill the Jersey Shore; you're being misrepresented. Our Stacks Move Macks? Here it is....IHOP 4 LIFE....oh yeah, that's your new slogan.

Who's up for IHOP?...I'm thinking we should drive.

The Hub Bub

2011-07-09T17:10:00.005-04:00

Maybe, just maybe, it's not always about the bike. I have to admit sometimes we sound a bit whiny. But then again, it's often really not about the bike and it should be.

This is about the recent CCT crossing changes. Yes, folks, there has been more than one reconstructuring as of late. And I still consider the one on Connecticut egregious against us.

Little Falls? The jury is still out. I believe it was constructed as a deterrent to cyclists. I don't consider this all bad. However, the cyclists in need of slowing...are not slowing.

This makes the new trail dangerous. They are flying around a blind corner cutting people off. I hear the crossing is slick and it isn't even fall yet. And the stop signs are a bit much.

But the bitching? Suck it up. Slow it down. Perhaps this once, we the cyclists, need to do our parts. It can't all be about motorists making changes. Share the Change. The cars are mostly polite and stopping allowing bikes to pass...even though they may be stuck at this intersection for an entire weekend if the weather is right.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still on your side. Really, have you seen the intersection just down the way? I still don't get the added curb. Again, it makes the cyclists look bad because we are spilling out all over the road. If you stay in the crosswalk that's one hell of a tight right angle turn to head to the trail.

That says, get the hell off your bike and walk through this section. Forget slow. And it doesn't slow either direction entering traffic. It's not that kind of crossing.

The change was a surprise. No sign, no notice, no listserv rantings. But am I really surprised this unpaved section of CCT gets no nods while the often plowed section gets all the whinelight? No, not really.

Wish I Had a V8

2011-07-03T13:35:00.008-04:00

Back to that car buying discussion...

I got to thinking about the differences between purchasing a car and purchasing a bike. It's misleading, unfair, and a rip off!

Take a car. Most sites let you "build your_________" And like Timbuk2 you get to 'put together' the car of your dreams. Actually it's just like Timbuk2. You pick your colors and fabric and presto you have a bag....er, uh car?

Let's take a Honda Civic. You've got your DX, LX, EX, and EX-L. Those are your options, you get to pick the letter that comes between Civic and X. Oh, there's plenty involved in that. AC, USBs, MP3 jacks, Bluetooth, Moonroof... I'm not sure what any of that has to do with the car's performance but whatever....

You can pick leather and grey, but that's about it. The rest comes with the letterX you choose. In full disclosure, the Civic EX comes with rear disc brakes and alloy wheels. Okay, that's something. But you ain't getting a manny tranny with that.

But I'm used to a bike. And they don't actually let you build a bike (even though you easily could, without dismantling the frame and ripping out the interior). But they do come in models, like a Civic. So I decided to compare a Trek.

And here's me with egg on my face. I picked a road racer Trek. And well, the better model came with better wheels and brakes. That's about it. Sounds like a Civic. Must be a Trek EX.

So I checked Orbea and Fuji. Yeah, okay, so here's the deal... Again you don't build your bike (although again I point out you could), but there are models to choose from. And the biggest differences are your components, the drive train, the chain, the brakes, wheels...the things that make a bike a bike. Shimano 2300, Tiagra, 105, Ultegra, Dura Ace. Besides your engine, these are the things that make the bike GO.

From base to ace you're looking at a $6,000 difference. What you get is performance. Less weight, better roll, more compatible meshy parts. With a Civic you're also looking at a $6,000 difference. What you get is speakers, an arm rest, phone controls...essentially what I would call accessories.

Accessories are add ons that cost money. Like a kickstand, water cage, bag, odometer. You don't need them and shouldn't be forced to buy them. Okay, you got me, the autogiants throw in a 'free' odometer (something about the law).

Bumping up a model should get you a better car. Bigger engine, better pistons, HD rearview mirror, Vtech Performance Oil, Titanium spark plugs... I don't know, something that creates a better car. Not a radio and a cup holder.

In fairness, the Toyota build does offer notable accessories, but I again question the semantics of this word. You can choose a performance clutch, front strut brace, torque biasing differential, and an oil cap for an added cost. Oil cap? It's fancy.

The AutoBike

2011-07-02T13:33:00.006-04:00

My dentist is always accusing me of grinding my teeth. I deny it, but today's trip up Newcastle clearly said different. I think I may have dropped two teeth. Damn autobike.

A recent discussion at work about car purchases brought about a lukewarm debate about manual transmissions. I like to control my car. I like to control my bike. I'm not a fan of automuch (think hamburger button).

And the AutoNazis always jump in your shift about choosing a manual transmission. They demand to know WHY? Snow? Here? Where it snows 3.5 days a year? Yes. Yes, I like to shift. I choose to shift. I shift on hills, at stop signs, around corners, to pass.

But you can shift an automatic. And what about traffic? I can't stand to shift in traffic, they say. Why, yes, I agree...this is why I ride a bike. And really? Are you really shifting your automatic car, like ever?

But a recent revolution on an old bike brought about a, well, a revolution. While I enjoy the control of a 5-speed manual tranmission, my bike of choice is a single speed. In a world where consumers need 21+ speeds, I prefer just one.

Don't get me wrong when I've got the 24 speeds I'm using about 14 of them, but you really only need about 2 or 3. Let me ask you, Mr. Needs-a-9-Speed-Triple-and-an-Automatic-Car, how many gears are you engaging on your overpriced Trek? About as many as you personally are shifting on your automatic car I bet.

Well, I Am Tired

2011-06-30T11:35:00.002-04:00

I thought it was the bike.

It's The E-Can-omy Stupid

2011-06-28T00:51:00.003-04:00

I never realized how difficult it can be to find PBR. A few weeks ago I went to the Total Beverage in VA. I asked for PBR in a can. And you see I'm drinking Bud. Total Beverage, does not include PBR, in a can.

It's all about the can. Precious metal you know. Platinum, Gold, Silver, Copper, Aluminum. It's a tough economy; don't knock the penny worthy can.

Just this past week we watched a pickup drive by; CanMan, we called him. He had all kinds of cans blowing out the back of his pickup. We used to call that trash.

I thought, really? He went through all that trouble to get those cans and he's gonna let them fly out the back like Styrofoam peanuts? Nope, he was back in a jif with a buddy who ran behind picking up the discarded can$.

Just today I threw the metal casing from my faulty dehumidifier at the curb. I wondered if they'd take it. Oh, they took it alright. Well, somebody did, before the trash men even came. It's a crazy, canny world.

And for the record, I'm only drinking piss beer for the free glass of water that comes with every can. It saves me the trouble and cuts back on the dehydration headaches. And, apparently feeds the neighbors. I'm doing my part. It's the American way.

And The Enemy Goes To...

2011-06-25T21:26:00.002-04:00

Man, do I miss Keith Olbermann. Have I got a candidate for "The Worst Person in the World...."!

For the past few days he resided at 4506 ONP. It's a nice sized family restaurant up for grabs. $979k. So if you have a cool Mil lying around could I appeal to your centses?

Really, someone needs to buy this joint. To get rid of its owner if nothing else. Is it any wonder the grease pit went under? With owners like that who needs customers?

There's this little bike race that spans the land, it's called RAAM. For the past few years the over sized parking lot of this boarded up abandoned building served as an oasis in a fiercely fought fight.

Many a weary traveler has collapsed behind the wheel before the roar of an overworked engine even came to a purr. The hood of their home never so much as cooling before whisking away once again in a crazy race to the finish.

But this Saturday that all came to an end. When the Meanest Man in the World laid claim to his empty, unused, abandoned piece of asphalt. Closing it off to any and all.

Pourquoi? Por que? Zakaj? Waarom? Varfor? Perche? Exactly.

All I can think is he wanted to be not just an asshole, but a Globally known Asshole. Mission Accomplished. And Restaurant still Empty.

Paws And THINK

2011-06-12T19:29:00.004-04:00

I know I say this a lot, but I've got another one of those behaviors that should land offenders in prison. And unlike painting brick, this time I think I have a leg to stand on!

It's about puppies. People L O V E them some puppies. People do sick and crazy things for puppies. Things they don't even do for babies.

And here's the thing, I'm not a dog owner (sniff, anymore) but this seems like common sense. And still I hear it on the TV ALL the time. ALL. THE. TIME. When it's hot, your dogs get hot. Don't leave them in cars and remember their poor pads. If I've heard it once, I've heard it too much!

Apparently not. Today this poor little pup was at Capital Pride and although the temperature is lower than it's been, it was still HOT. And when sun meets pavement, it COOKS. And I could smell puppy paws.

Have you ever walked on hot pavement? It's effingham hot! Unbearably HOT. You dance. From foot to foot. For relief. Until you can sprint to grass. Tell me you don't.

But this guy was on a leash. Being led by an incredible cruel owner. He picked up his paw and his paw and his paw and his paw. What else could he do? He's got FOUR feet! I've never seen a dog look that unhappy. Right about then his owner just stopped. To flirt. Or talk. Or whatever the fuck.

Actually here's what I suggest...not prison. Hot pavement. Let's stand the owners on sunny warm pavement and make them just STAND there. No hopping, no running, no relief of any kind. I suspect some people haven't stood on hot pavement since they were 10. I think just maybe, they need a reminder....

Tutu or Not Tutu?

2011-06-11T23:28:00.002-04:00

I said I wasn't going to write about this, but it looks like I am. It's just another traffic incident, but with an Yvette ending (and that doesn't mean BAD, it just means unexpected).

First, if you want respect in the bike lane (or out) trying wearing a tutu. This might only work for half the population, but I'm telling you it works. People's nice as pie.

Once you take it off, however, look out! So heading down 14th was delightful. Coming back up...not so much.

Take the Porsche that cut me off. I took advantage of the top being down to spew words of disdain. Having learned earlier in the day I don't let drivers know enough when they screw up, I figured this was my chance.

He also took advantage of his convertible to spew his own discouraging words. But get this, like the girl in the SUV, I'm not exactly sure of his point. He informed us that here in DC the law is bikes are like vehicles!

Be still my heart. The words I long to hear. Bikes are vehicles. YES! Exactly, I say this ALL the time. WAIT, why is HE saying it...he just cut me off and stole my lane. "Yes Sir, why then did you just take my lane?" or maybe something not as eloquent...

Somehow we began arguing, although it seems to me we must have been saying the same thing, except that whatever that was it meant he could do whatever HE wanted and I could not. I just kept hearing vehicle and seeing my lane disappear.

It wasn't going well until my hero appeared at the edge of the curb. A complete stranger walking by. He looked down at mighty man in the car screaming at the Pride filled pixies and said simply, "you're an asshole." I couldn't have said it better myself. "THANK YOU"

Next time I'm going to sit in HIS lane and BLOCK it even AFTER the light turns green. When he gets mad and starts yelling and honking I'll simply shrug, throw up my hands and tell him my vehicle stalled and won't start. I called AAA, they should be here momentarily....

Pedal Pusher

2011-06-08T01:19:00.002-04:00

Zapatos. They're sandals. And what do I think of them? Why do you ask? It will influence my answer.

Well they're not Keens. If you're buying them because you love the feel of your Keens, keep shopping. And they are hot. Kinda hotter than my shoes.

Have you ever unclipped a sandal? It's not easy to get out of. I'm only mentioning it because the first time my sandals met traffic my face met the pavement. If there's a pros/cons list: CON. Although on the sandals front, the Keen is the sturdiest I've tried: PRO.

I just saw a commerical that says I should be paid for this. Giving my opinion on products is worth cool cash...and here you are gettin' it for free! For what it's worth.

And if you're prone to rubber rub...you little bits know exactly who you are!...sandals are the worst! One sharp turn and you're going down again. Even IF you can get your foot out of the pedal.

I love my new pedals by the way. The other platform/SPDs....two thumbs down...and you get that rating withOUT the SUV sideswipe. That's free on free. But these babys...N.I.C.E.

Tale Light

2011-06-07T01:54:00.002-04:00

How do you like that? My light has an effingham sense of humor. All the way home I bet it stayed dark. NOW it works. Nice.

I've gotten lazy. I'm a layzee biker. I used to carry a flashlight. I used to carry spare batteries. I used to have a spare light in my locker. I used to have a spare light on my helmet. I used to care.

Now I'm not even sure if the spare tube I have in my bag is good. Or fits. Or if my pump is in there. I don't have reflective gear, I'm not wearing bike shoes, and there isn't a shiny bit on my wooden bicycle.

So there I was tonight with a broken light. Or apparently, one that only works on the kitchen table. Oooooh, as I sit here now, I'm thinking there just might have been a working light on my hub. Funny thing is, it doesn't work if you don't remember.

"It's not a law to have a light on your bike is it?"

"Indeed it is."

"But a cop won't pull you over and give you a ticket"

"I'm more concerned about not being seen than the law."

"But I see bikers out there all the time without lights"

"Again, I'm not interested in the ones you SEE, just the ones you DON'T. "

Bottoms Up!

2011-06-06T23:47:00.002-04:00

Happy Birthday Kiley. Cheers to you!

Close Call For Alcohol

2011-06-05T02:18:00.006-04:00

Last night I was driving home, minding my own business, sober as a saint, when this chick totally hit on me.

I know, you're looking at the picture of my car, picking up on the not so clever hit on me double meaning, rolling your eyes. But you don't know the half of it!

Yeah, she hit on me. Side swiped a healthy portion on the rear panel of my car. I saw her hulking SUV in my periphery as I came around the circle. I swerved like a fixie in city traffic but I still heard the swoosh of paint on paint.

I suspect her bass drowned out the sound in addition to her judgment because I believe she chalked this up to a close call. I wasn't sure what to do as I relocated to the center lane of Chevy Chase Circle. I came to a complete stop there between the fountain and the church.

She sidled up next to me peering down from her massive automobile, and stopped dead next to me in the lane that should have been mine. When I looked up at her the most curious thing happened. She was grinning from ear to ear and gave me an emphatic thumbs up. Repeatedly. Like: hey I dig your bumper sticker! Mind if I grab a rubbing of it?

And then she drove on. I can't say she didn't stop per se, because she did, but she didn't. I was in shocked disbelief. Did this bitch just hit my car, cheer my driving tactics, and continue on? Why yes, that's exactly what she did.

Way to go! Drive Baby Drive! Shake those Civic Hips! But you actually HIT my car! It's not okay. Scared the paint right off your own. You don't get to thumbs up me. You can't say something nice and leave your paint on my chassis cover. WHAT is wrong with you? Thank god I was in a car.

Penn and Tell Her

2011-05-26T22:30:00.006-04:00

This had better be good! I have been looking for DC bike polo for about three years now. It's not like it's on the DL or kickin' the Underground. I just firmly believe its coordinates are the Bermuda Triangle.

After about my fourth triangle, I was ready to throw in the sweat soaked towel. It wasn't meant to be. I mean, riding bike is fun, but when you're sweating salt and spitting plastic your patience starts to run thin.

I am on the corner of Lo St. and I don't have a map or an Iphone. Instead, I phone a friend. Hi! I need to find the corner of 6th and Penn, can you help me?

DC EyePhone: It's on the corner of Penn and 6th. You don't know where Pennsylvania is?

Me: No, Penn! 6th and Penn! P.E.N.N.

DC EyePhone: Penn? 6th and Penn? Oh, I see it. What are you doing there? You know that isn't the best part of town...

Really? Thanks Buddy! This Abbott and Costello routine would have been much funnier if I weren't standing on the corner of Michigan and Monroe watching the same drug deal for the fourth time.

I felt a bit like Henry Fonda in On Golden Pond. God. Damn. Blueberries. But at the end of the day, I could finally say I found DC's best kept secret.

Oh Hell

2011-05-19T17:16:00.004-04:00

I just spent a ton of money on this piece of furniture. I KNOW! Me? Spend money? It happens.

Well, I moved the room around and now the spacing is off. So in with the new furniture and out with the old. I AM American after all. At least it's not IKEA or I'd have to upgrade next week.

The Internet is bad for me. When I'm ready to spend I get impulsive. And the Internet has EVERYTHING. And when I want it, I want it NOW. And if I can't have it....well, then the impulse passes and I make due.

But I found what I wanted. It wasn't perfect, but I figured what the heck! The end of the world is Saturday. Surely I can get by in the next two days on what I've already got saved. In fact, I charged the darn thing...I'm never gonna have to pay for it! HAaa!!!

Unfortunately when I tried to get the two day express shipping it said it wasn't eligible for it. I was gonna splurge, seeing as how the bill would never come. But now I might not even get my new TV stand in time to try it out. You know, before the world implodes.

Maybe I should go get a new TV too!

You Go Girl

2011-05-18T13:34:00.005-04:00

So I'm cruising down 14th in a traffic jam. In the bike lane. A traffic jam in the bike lane. Crazy.

Fixie, CaBi, Fixie, CaBi, me...Crazy.

And I get behind this gal on a CaBi, all decked out for the office. Little skirt blowing in her own breeze, Federal ID badge dangling from her purse.

I'm impressed. She seems right comfortable on that bike. I tried to take her picture but I wasn't nearly as comfortable. She impressed me with her skills. She attempted maneuvers and weaves not covered in Biking 101.

She went through lights and kissed the curbs like a regular bike messenger. On a CaBi, in a skirt. When she went through the first narrow bus passageway, I thought, WOW. I mean I would do that, but not everyone would squeeze through that.

When she approached the next one, I reached for my camera. I couldn't believe she was going for it! Like threading a needle in moving traffic. It was TIGHT. I wasn't going to follow, no way. But there she went carefree cruising down 14th: snug as a bug in a rug.

Metro bus inching along, parked cars bumper to bumper, and Gabby CaBi scaring the advertisement off the bus. Seriously, she had ll that much space between her left handlebar and Doug Hill's face!

BUT WAIT, cars have mirrors! They protrude from the car. It's not often that a pannier will take out a rear view mirror but an occasional bag or elbow might knock boots. But tight squeezes with straight handlebars.....

C R A S H

Gabby CaBi demolished the mirror! She bent it all the way forward to the hood of the car. And stayed on the bike. Bounced into the moving Metro Bus and got a little friendly with the Monday Night Lineup. And stayed on the bike.

She kept right on going. And Stayed. On . The. Bike. Like a pinball off a series of bumpers my girl never lost a stroke. She rode that bike like she had somewhere to go. And away she went...

Hall Me

2011-05-17T23:56:00.004-04:00

Well there it was all along in my HALLS bag. The dangers of working in a studio is the phone is always on vibrate, so when you lose it it's lost. Except I guess when it's not.

I'm bothering everyone at work, running up and down the stairs, tearing apart my bag and for WHAT? A phone that's been along for the ride the WHOLE time. Right there in my bag where it belongs.

Be a shame if I get a second interview and no one is there to take the call. That's right, interview. THAT process again.

What's the last book you read, if you could be a superhero..., if you were part of a salad which part would you be? ? ? Whatchoo talkin'bout willis? Salad? Superhero? I'm sorry, I thought this was a JOB interview.

Salad ingredient, really? I mean really! What exactly is the correct answer to that question? Onion? Because its strong and repulsive characteristics stay with you all day. Lettuce? Because it's bland and boring and fills the bowl with a whole lot of nothing. Tomato? Because it's a fruit!

I would refuse to answer that question on the basis of it might incriminate me. That is if Facebook hasn't already. Well anyway if I answer all the questions right tomorrow and they want to call me for a second interview I'm all set now.

My Re-First Schwinn

2011-05-15T15:24:00.006-04:00

I still ride my first Schwinn. It's a little bigger than this road demon's. She moved her foot out of the way so I could snap a pic of the my first Schwinn 'etched' on the chain cover.

Someday soon she'll outgrow it and donate it to Bikes for the World. If she takes care of it, like I did mine, it will be a great first bike for someone in Central America.

Or she can let it sit in the rain and rust til it doesn't spin anymore. It's a crime ranking just under painting brick. The brick painters should totally be thrown in prison. Rust Bucket Owners? Yes, prison. Maybe Lorton...hmmm...

So today a woman drags over her bike to donate. She says, you valuate these right? Yes, I can do that. Did you want to donate it? Well, unless you say it's $2,000. I chuckle, I can assure you it is not. She doesn't laugh.

I generously valued it at $50. We might be able to save the frame. And it is an adult bike. She was to say the least INSULTED. And I think, serious about that $2,000. I also didn't laugh. Or budge. Or respond.

But when I struggled with the pedals I considered offering her the wrench. How 'bout this if you can roll the bike I'll give you $20. $20 more if the pedals engage the chain. $20 if you can get the pedals off, here, you can use my wrench. We'll call it an even $100 if you can lower the seat and twist the handlebars. And if you compact your own bicycle I'll pay the $10 dollar shipping fee.

How comes we don't have a tip jar? Lemme guess, you fudge a little on your taxes?

I Solved It!

2011-05-14T15:30:00.002-04:00

I solve all kinds of things. That doesn't mean it's feasible, possible, smart, legal, or even safe. But then who'd a thunk you could run a local TV station out of 3 different states, none of which is 500 miles from its ADI?? I'm just saying, hear me out.

What I'm proposing to solve is traffic congestion, speeding, bikes on streets, oh, and the county budget. Is that all? Yes, and it's simple! Do NOTHING.

This photo is a picture of the far right lane of Wisconsin Avenue. It sucks. It's not fit to ride a bike on. And I don't usually. In Maryland I stay off Wisconsin, Connecticut, Georgia, Montrose...there's a long list of them.

So when I hear a complaint from drivers for us bikers to stay off certain roads I get pissed. I go out of my way to avoid them. But then I end up on Sligo Creek, Beach, Jones Mill, Rock Creek...park roads. And they still bitch.

"IS it right for the bicyclists to force sharing a non sharable road when they have a trail right there?" I don't know, IS it right for the drivers, talking on the phone, putting on makeup, speeding, to impatiently try to pass on a two lane road when the beltway is right there??

There are enough roads I can't ride on and plenty more I won't. And I'm still looking for that trail head at the end of my driveway. The one that goes to every point I need...my job, the store, the doctor, a post office, every event I want to go to, every thing I want to see.

But if you stop resurfacing the roads you want me off....I'll stop riding them. Cars will slow down. Ladies will keep the lipstick capped. People may even silence the cell phone use if the road gets bad enough.

Think about it. We won't need pesky speeding cameras. Budgets won't take an even bigger hit after a salty winter. You won't need to move left to pass the VEHICLE up ahead that just happens to be a BIKE.

The solution IS simple. Do NOTHING. Let the roads deteriorate. Save gas. Lower taxes. Buy mountain bikes. Get healthy. Bike THAT, punk!

Next Up: Health Care, the first step already in motion...

Park It!

2011-05-10T02:56:00.003-04:00

While I was out dodging danger...

Poor Parker was home S.T.A.R.V.I.N.G. I found her perched above the phone; I think she was dialing Animal Control or the Humane Society or some NPO sympathetic to her pleas.

She had collapsed as she was obviously robbed of vital nutrients...yeah right, who's buying this? She was pacing and pouncing in the window crying and begging as I approached the house.

JDog is convinced she can be trained like a dog. Again, yeah right! Princess P will NOT sit to be rewarded food. The cat that licks her paw and puts it in the center of your plate? Who knocks chips on the floor, steals spinach from the counter, and plays flying squirrel when you open a jar of peanuts?

Oh no she won't sit to be fed. In fact she likes to leap like a frog when you grab the food container. Tonight her landing was olympic disaster. Not at all with the grace of a flexible feline. Unless of course you were going for Diving Horse of Altantic City past?

That's right, Diving Horse. Right smack in the center of her water bowl. SPA-LASH!! Cat-a-pool! Redesignating the water in her bowl to water in her bowl. Great Parker, now where would you like me to put this dry kibble?

If The Bike Fits...

2011-05-09T19:52:00.006-04:00

I'm stuck in the position that ate my job. It's true. This week I am scheduled to perform the duties that were created when I was 'no longer needed'.

Just bury me alone in the basement while I babysit the station. It's so easy, a monkey could do it. Monkey: push button.

See Monkey. See Monkey's bike. See Monkey's bike ride by the dungeon. See Monkey go bananas.

HEY! That's my bike! Around and around MC he goes. Who's doing weather, nobody knows. It's just Top, he's allowed. Is it really Bike AT Work day TODAY?

Later I caught the cleaning dude checking it out. He didn't take it for a spin; I'm not sure if he dusted it with Pledge. Slick. Funny, all 3 of us are the same size.

Grab Some Wood There Bub!

Are You There God?

2011-05-03T22:00:00.003-04:00

When I was a kid my Mom worked 2nd shift. I didn't see her much. I buried myself in Lite Brite. And at night I would make mommy a picture and leave it on for her to see when she came home.

A few years later she must have been working 3rd. I remember in the summer I wasn't supposed to wake her. So I would stand by her bedside with my face in her face until she woke up. She didn't love it.

Then she was back on 2nd. She missed all my games and I would call and tell her how I did. She had to ask the guys at work what I was talking about when I said things like, "I hit a grand slam!" so she would know whether or not to cheer or console.

I was 12 when I got my period. And I lived with my dad. Me and my dad. There wasn't exactly a supply of feminine products under the sink. Fortunately it was in the winter and it just so happened to snow that day. No school, thank god.

I could stay home with my cramps and a book. Back at school, it was dramatic. It felt like everyone knew. Probably because they did. In gym class we had to announce it during roll call to be excused from group showering. We took co-ed roll call so we did it in 'code'. As if all the boys didn't know what DOT meant. It was quite humiliating.

I'm not sure what this has to do with Lite Brite. But it's a bit like the church sign I look forward to every night. The Lite Brite, not my period. Again, how'd we get on this?

It's me Margaret.

DOG is My Co-pilot

2011-05-02T23:15:00.004-04:00

And if God was dyslexic Santa is Satan, which would explain the red suit.

15th Incident

2011-04-28T23:20:00.002-04:00

When's the last time you've been downtown?! 15th is striped on the WH side. Two lanes! Doesn't keep peds from walking out in front of you, but it kinda gives me umph to hit 'em if they do.

It's discouraged and posted. Of course it is. Right next to FREEDOM Plaza, which let's be honest, is everything BUT. No bikes, no blades, no boards, no bliss.

But now you can get from the Capitol to the White House on bike lane. Which is Rockable! No complaints here. We've even got bike lights! I'd say this was a damn near perfect date.

OreO

2011-04-25T21:57:00.001-04:00

It had me for a bit.

14th Incident

2011-04-24T21:39:00.002-04:00

"You don't belong on the sidewalk!"

It's something I don't hear very often...never really. Mostly cuz I'm never on it. But I was today. And Mr. Man was none too happy about it.

He accused me of not announcing my whereabouts, which most certainly was not the case. But his wife was yakking. And he was in lalaMittyland.

I side stepped the police department on Mass Ave escorting the Turkish demonstrators away from the embassy. And I stopped for a photo op with BabyBoo in front of his home embassy.

And that's not even counting the incident on 14th. I was still a bit shaken from that. I heard "Dyke, Suck, Bitch" the rest was indistinguishable. But peripherally I felt the lunge for the street. And instinctively, or protectively maybe, I pulled my shell into my shell and awaited the blow. He went for the biker behind me, but did nothing. And neither did the cops watching the show from U.

So excuse me for invading YOUR sidewalk MadAss. The street was angry today. You were too, but I'll take that chance. Happy Easter. CHRIST.

Who is Dawn?

2011-04-16T07:37:00.007-04:00

Waiting for paint to dry. That's exactly what I am doing. Since it is raining, I spent a little time watching grass grow, but when it didn't seem to be happening I gave up

Ass Crack of Dawn. That's what she said. What time is that exactly? I thought it might be waay before 7, but apparently I was wrong.

So here I am, up on an 85 foot ladder, by myself, painting the house, in the rain, by myself. Did I already say that? No it's not safe, but it IS necessary.

I am sick of this rain. How's a girl supposed to get anything done? Even if you are up at the Ass Crack of Dawn...which apparently is about 6am. And by the way, who the hell is Dawn?

So anyway, back to the 97 foot ladder....there I was up on the ladder, when it happened. I dropped my brush. Packed with paint. I dropped my brush packed with paint. To the ground. 124 feet below. And you see what happened. It landed just like that. Embedded in the ground. Phew. But it still took a prayer and a jack hammer to get it back out, what with the 145 foot plunge it took.

I should probably go. Parker is getting yelled at and the paint is likely dry enough. Hmm..Jdog just barked at the cat. She's making breakfast, just slightly past the Ass Crack of Dawn. And Jesus already showed up, look at that. He came early and caught my brush. Christ, can we talk about the rain?