I had a dream that there was an endless line of kittens coming out from my neighbor's shed. There is no such thing as overpopulation in dreams. Just one kitten after the other and they were all coming to me! That's all there was to it. I like those dreams. No kicking of shins. You know, with kittens, I just want to put them all in a pile and dive into them, but with puppies, I want to lie down and have them dive all over me. It's yin and yang for the cute world.
I got to ride my bike home Friday, too. Great fun as I left the building too late and got to ride in the dark. 'pooky 'cary (friend's niece used to not say S... had a cat named 'potty.) But first, did you notice my backside? It's larger and sits a bit higher in a jaunty flirty sort of way. I got me a new bag. A big bag. I said, "Is this the biggest? I pack a mean lunch along with my clothes and some books. I need the biggest!" A Topeak. I have disc brakes and can't attach anything to the wheel so I got a beam rack ages ago. I had a smaller bag, but now that I'm commuting and taking a lot more, I want.. nay, I NEEEEDed a new bag. I asked the young fella in the store, "Say, how do I prevent my side paniers from whacking my wheel? I've been taking a bungee cord and attaching it to both bags over the main bag. Looks like the flying nun, but works. Is that what I'm supposed to do?" And he thought about it for 2.3 seconds and said, "Uh... yeah... I guess..." "Really? They sell a rack like this (point) and a bag to go on it with sides that can be unzipped to become paniers to whack the wheel and send me right into a prothsodontist's office?" "Huh?" You know... Tammy
would have helped me!
Nevermind. I've discovered this crazy thing called the internet. I've got fingers, a computer and a credit card. I found my optional side bags.... Oh before I ordered them from another bike shop in Melbourne, I called my guys back and told them what I found and gave them the model number and I got this from a different guy, "Uh, I don't know if we can order that, but the guy who orders stuff is in later this week." Snonk? Huh? They stock every other bit of Topeak, but they might
not be able to order my optional side guards? Mucking forons. Again, the internet to the rescue. Hey, I found my hubby there, why not a doohicky to keep my bags from whacking my wheel?
Check out my bike butt!
I got the bag Thursday, but couldn't ride home until Friday. I was so excited. No more backpack! I left my desk at 5:15, went down to the showers to stock up my bag with the old towel, work clothes, Frankie magazine
and the plastic bag I tote about to pick up recyclables. By the time I was out of the locker and the bike out of the cage it was dark. Eeek! I have lights, but my path is along a creek... pooooky! No street lights... poooky! Just me and my head lamp that shines a light that looks like a skull. I couldn't see bends along the way and after one bend, there were those bollards that narrowed the bike path lest a bus decided to bypass the traffic. I was heading right into them. I froze. I couldn't move. Deer in the headlights and I remember thinking in a yell... STEER! and I did. I just missed them but my arms were still frozen by the "BOO!" effect of turning a bend and suddenly seeing bollards. I stun easily. I was still stiff from fear of being dead in the middle of the dark path with no phone (where is that thing?) and no Aldis lamp to help me find the nearest living soul that I rode the next 100 meters wobbly. Mr Bean style. Then it happened. The tune hit my head and I couldn't shake it. "Weebles
wobble but they don't fall down!"
Then the tangents....
Where are Weebles now? And what about Stretch Armstrong
? I had a Stretch Armstrong (woah, stay to the left, let the nice jogger live to see another day) but my cousins stabbed it before I even had it 24 hours. And the Million Dollar Man
toy with the roll up skin? The virgin in "The 40-year-old Virgin" had one, I bet he would have had a Stretch Armstrong, too. At the stoplight I continued ... why was part of the virgin's image that he rode a bike to work? Why is it that is not considered manly? Have you seen cyclist quads? Hot! And by "hot" I mean "reaow...psss! Hello, sailor!" hot. Being a sexually experienced man means you drive an obnoxious car? ... I'm just assuming that driving a Pinto or Gremlin wouldn't really get you out of virgin status. We had a Pinto. Red. Parental units would let me ride in the back with the hatch up! How cool was growing up in the not-yet-ready-for-prime-time paranoia and litigation late 70s? So, I'm riding my bike to work... I'm a virgin again! Whoo hoo. Hubby will love this. My great aunt used to say, "You're always a virgin on Monday."
But wait, the tree that hates me is coming up. I dread this part all the time. I'm coming down the narrow sidewalk from my trainstation short cut and have to turn left. If I wait until this path meets the other footpath, then it's a 95 degree turn, not even 90. Perhaps even a 100 degree turn. Too sharp for me. I cut across the corner where there is a tree that has seed pods that are a foot long and encase heavy and hard seeds. I get whacked every night. It's my bully. I know the tree is waiting to whack me for cutting the corner. Thwak! Or perhaps it's really a TONK! I recycle all my papers... lighten up! Leave me be!
Then I see home and I start ringing the bell. That calls all critters a Casa CasHew to come to the door to greet the food-giving goddess. Ah... the fair princess excapes the evils of the night to make it to her castle with furry maids-in-waiting.
It was a good day of thinking!
I need my nanoo.
Not a lot of thinking. I was full of pep as my RunningSkirts
arrived. I had to choose. Is it a double pink day or a choco blue? It was a choco blue day. Mark and I were going to the Brisbane Marathon expo. He was to get his race pack and I was to meet the other timers and try not to make them cry when they see how flash I look. My shins were still hurting. I was losing the interest in running. BUT I CAN'T, I HAVE MY COOL DROOL SKIRT ON! I can't not run, I'm dripping with fabulous.
I did it. I ran. Pain for the first 10 minutes, then cruisy for the next 50, then the ITBS (=it is b.s.) started up, but not before I made it back at 1:40. I have no guilt. The skirt was great. RunnerSusan
was right, they're great. But they do have a major flaw. They do not prevent you from running with dumb songs in your head. There are two small pockets for gels or an iPod Nano (from here on out, a nanoo), but with no nanoo and an iPod left in the Brisbane airport, I was stuck with this song in my head... I just kept repeating the bold bits.
FISH HEADS by Barnes & Barnes
(Dr. Demento's 20th anniversary tape)
Fish heads fish heads roly poly fish heads
Fish heads fish heads eat them up yum
In the morning laughing happy fish heads
In the evening floating in the soup
Ask a fish head anything you want to
They won't answer they can't talk
I took a fish head out to see a movie
Didn't have to pay to get it in
They can't play baseball they don't wear sweaters
They're not good dancers they don't play drums
Roly poly fish heads are never seen drinking cappuccino
at Italian restaurants with oriental women yeah
Are you kidding me? I'm 38, lived in Austria and Australia, toured on several continents, studied many subjects, know many people, read many books and I can't get that bloody tune out of my noggin? And just one section. ... over and over and over again. I even found myself singing (huffing) it aloud to the beat of my feet slapping the ground.
It's time for bed. Mark must get up to run his marathon, but sadly I must get up earlier to get there as a timer. Why? they're not finishing before they start! 5 am? That means we're getting up at 4 am! Them's shootin' words, missy!