Giggety giggety.
Allll riiiiight.
What About the Cake?
Allusions have been made, but I’m waiting for some paperwork to go through before I say anything. Hell, Cake Woman and I haven’t even been on a real date — what am I saying? It’s like we’ve been dating for months, except that she routinely called me creepy and gross. Actually, I kind of miss that — she’s been eerily nice this week, almost as though she actually likes me.
For all those people who said that I was crazy for hanging out with her so much, this is not why I was hanging out with her. Amidst all the confusion of the last eight months Cake Woman and I had a bunch of really good times. Any new developments in our friendship are in a different area altogether. Change might fuck everything up, and then who would go to the museum or eat “hot dogs” from Superamerica and “burgers” from White Castle in one night with me? On the other hand, what new lady would let me hang out with Cake Woman?
“She made you a cake? Hell no. You are not going over there and getting drunk again.”
It’s kind of reassuring when Cake Woman threatens to get rid of me after a week. Business as usual.
Tomorrow I Ride!
I rode to school Monday and Tuesday, but took Wednesday off to… study… and Thursday I got a ride because I was wrong about the time for my first final. I’m gonna hop on the Surly again tomorrow because I made that promise to myself to ride every day that the temperature is greater than or equal to ten degrees. So far the winter riding has been pretty okay. Snow and ice haven’t been much of a problem, and my Cross-Check has been very comfortable on the fatter tires (700x32c), especially since the rear is a little low. The drivetrain seems to even be quieter, but I really have to bring her in and give her a thorough cleaning. If you’re curious, I tend to stick to the 48 in front and somewhere in the 15-19 range in the rear. I’m running a slightly higher cadence through the snow, which is probably healthier. If I don’t stay on the gas the bike gets a little squirrely, but she loves to run.
I don’t know why I want another bike, but look at this! It’s so pretty!
On the other hand, I saw a black Surly on campus the other day. Mmmmm. Really, though, I’m starting to want taller gearing for the summer and maybe a… flat bar (the HORROR!) for winter. So… maybe I want a fixed gear for winter. I know! I know! It’s a cult! However, I could feel the road better and there would be less to go wrong (like the morning that my front derailleur froze up). I’m just saying that it would be interesting. For summer I would take taller gears and a bike fitting — maybe just panniers so I don’t have a backpack, but I’m just not comfortable dropping down in the handlebars unless I’m climbing. Then again, I’m all torso.
The real problem is what to wear while riding in the winter so I’m neither sweaty or freezing when I get to my destination. If the weather stays in the 20s then I would probably be fine with one of my light hoodies and a windbreaker. Windbreaking pants might not be a bad idea, either, plus winter shoes that won’t grow disgusting in the spray from my tires. Boot recommended one of those spandexy shirts under a wool shirt with a windbreaker, but the next thing you know I’d be packing a day’s worth of changes every day.
Anyway, I hope that it stays warm enough for me to ride — otherwise I will have to find some other form of daily exercise. I can’t believe that I just said those two words together: “daily exercise.”
One down, three to go
I just finished the eagerly anticipated “Linear Algebra and Differential Equations” final. In one and a half hours I will be restraining myself from throttling Professor Voyles, who somehow found a way to make me hate computers and programming. Good job, jerk!
At the very least, I had a very relaxing day of studying, which was cut unfortunately short when I noticed that my Linear Suffering and Differential Despair final was at 1:30, not the normal class time of 3:30. Ugh. I barely had time to cram two slices of Snap! pizza into my mouth (near perfect crust!) into my mouth before Cake Woman drove me to school and threw me out of her moving car. This time I didn’t get any bruises.
So. Yeah.
Wow.
People who are friends of mine might like to hear that good things occasionally happen to me.
Ugh
I told you that I was awake. Two alarms, light, music, and a wake up call. I rule at this waking up shit.
I Wish That I Still Had That Email
Hell, I wish that I still had that website. Back in 1994 or 1995 I had a proto-blog until someone sent me an email calling me a “self-absorbed pathetic loser.” Instead of replying, I just deleted everything. You know how you can never come up with a response to something right away, but ten years later you suddenly think of the coldest burn ever while washing your nuts in the shower?
Seriously, if you could help me out, I haven’t yet come up with a good response.
Let There Be Cake
Just as I was starting to get some homework done, or at least started, or at least resented, I got a text message on my phone. Will the wonders never cease? I mean, holy shit, a month ago my old phone didn’t even get phone messages — I would get a few blocks from home and all of a sudden it would go apeshit with bells and buzzing letting me know that I had a voice mail from my dad and my sisters singing “Happy Birthday” into my voice mail. This is why I don’t call them back — I cannot fucking stand that fucking shit and it is definitely not something that I want to encourage. In any case, my phone told me that I had a message, so I checked it, and it was something like this:
“Which do you prefer, late-night-cake or before-school-cake?”
Doomtree Versus Paul
I had such a good time at the Doomtree show with Paul and Ashley. The beats were fucking out of control! We stood in line for an hour before getting in. I was cold, so I warmed up with three rapid beers before I started with the jumping around and the throwing of hands in the motherfucking air. I had a concert buzz for the rest of the night — that crazed energy and smile that pushes sweat out of me by the bucketful. I think that it was “Little Kids” by POS that I actually remembered, but I screamed as much as for Har Mar Superstar.
When I got home I cracked open a beer and made the drunk dials that I had promised, but only Melody was around to be bothered by my rambling innuendos. She apparently had a group of ladies over who were debating spitting versus swallowing, and she settled for me once and for all whether or not bus stop woman had been lying to me about the flavor of such a thing. We closed the book on an eleven year mystery. Hooray!