bicycles go two ways

 

A long time ago —

I hit guy on a bicycle. I was in a car. He was on a bike. Like most things work, he with the most technology wins. And the car won.

No one was going real fast. I had pulled into a station, was just pulling out.

And he was riding on the wrong side of the road.

[If you are going to ride with traffic, you are supposed to go the same way as traffic.]

Having been hit by cars before, I knew the right ettiquete: Offer him a ride. [I wish I had known that the day I got hit and had to limp all the way home carrying my own damn bike.] And what it would cost to fix his tire. A few bucks to get the spokes pulled out. Or, buy a new front tire.

[No one ever does the new tire route. I do not know why. Something about the “original bike.”]

The guy’s friend was really ugly. I think he was planning an assault on the White House. Or at least on my finances for the next sixty years. Note to the wise: The White House would have been more profitable.

It cost him less than $40 to have his wheel spokes pulled straight and he called to let me know.

His friend is still an asshole.

 

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:::bicycle i:::
:::bicycle ii:::

 

where the art work comes from :
that is from peter christoph

bicycle dilemma

 

A LONG time ago —

I got hit by a car while riding a bike. It was sort of my fault. My dog was trained to run beside my bike. And to stop at stop signs and stuff. He knew the rules of the road. When the car came at us, well, rules of the road were gone but my dog did not know you could throw those out. My dog did road rules I taught him the end. And the one thing going through my head was, my dog weighs forty pounds, I weigh over a hundred. So I shoved between my dog and the car.

It was real interesting. I was on an asphalt street —

And then I was on a lawn with no idea how I got there.

I keep thinking I would like to get a bike, that a bike would be maybe more interesting than all these damn exercises.

But I have had two altercations with cars when I was on a bike and both times the person on the bike lost.

Bikes are not for the city I think. Not for me and the city any way.

 

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:::bicycle i:::
:::bicycle ii:::

 

where the art work comes from :
that is from peter christoph

oh the horror!

 

I. Am. So. Tired.

I have been running hard to stay on top of things that do not want to be stayed on top of because the rib knocked me back a week I never really caught up. A month later I am still playing catch up hard but the rib is all better which is amazing and my skin is even sort of returning to normal after total tape rebellion [not pretty] but this means —

Something bad.

Something real bad.

This means —

Working out.

Gah!

 

---

I have not worked out for a damn month — hello, kind of incondusive to broken rib healing — but now.

No rib to blame.

 

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Oh the horror.

 

where the art work comes from :
that is from one twin

just say no to susan

 

Immediately after Giving Susan the Snub —

Susan’s Revenge began.

Eight lightbulbs blew, the toilet broke, I cut my foot on glass, one of my tooth re-surface enamels came off, [fuck, I am so putting off calling the dentist], the printer started malfunctioning — hell electronics all the hell over the loft blew — the nefarious bug Ginormo returned, AND my face broke out BUT —

Since then?

My thumb — which has been an ongoing self repeating injury for over a freaking year — started to heal, my [um guys cover your eyes, okay never mind that one I will skip but it is a good thing], unexpected cash showed out of the blue, we attached a director to the script, cute guys who on purpose volunteer to quiet down if you stick your head out into the hall moved in down the hall, domestic violence neighbor guy stopped making noise, so did faux record recording guy, bad “let’s break things jack off and beat up fags” upstairs neighbor guy just got laid — which if you have to hear him up there on a regular basis is hella more entertaining than listening to him and/or his taser friends — AND my butt rose a quarter inch.

Yay! Yay! Yay!

I am so sticking with the boycott Susan thing.

 

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:::aliens stole my body i:::
:::aliens stole my body ii:::
:::aliens stole my body iii:::
:::aliens stole my body iv:::

 

where the art work comes from :
that is true evil from dew wipe

yay yay yay!

 

My body is back.

Okay, not entirely back, but back. It goes in pieces. It hurts a lot at first. I work through it and stuff stops hurting. My hand brushes my leg one day and I think, Oh that cord is back. Good. I look in the mirror one day, and there is definition running up my stomach again. It is working.

 

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:::aliens stole my body i:::
:::aliens stole my body ii:::
:::aliens stole my body iii:::
:::aliens stole my body iv:::

 

 

anatomy of an ankle weight

 

 

Miss Adams cannot post today.

She is too freaking sore.

Okay not really. I can post. But I am sore.

I have these stupid weights that go in these stupid ankle cuffs and each weight weighs two pounds and you can [I stress can] go up to twenty. They are for my knees and super serious weights because I am supposed to do leg lifts every single day so my legs work right every single day and, um, I don’t.

But post the discovery aliens stole my body and emergency measures are called for I strapped on the stupid weights and just do the routines while I read scripts and how convenient I have this stack of scripts right?

Um, right. Except I do not count. You can not count AND read. So I just do them while I read till the legs quit and now is a couple days in and holy fuck —

I. AM. SO. SORE.

 

 

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:::aliens stole my body i::::::
:::aliens stole my body ii:::::
:::aliens stole my body iii::::
:::aliens stole my body iv::::

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where the art work comes from :
that is an unnamed photograph by elena platonova

 

aliens stole my body

 

So I looked in the mirror —

To see what I look like naked. Do not ask me why I did that, except out of a mild thought that sometime in the future I might actually want someone else to see me naked and what would they be seeing if they did curiosity. [There are not a lot of mirrors around here so this is not something I see often.]

Oh. My. God.

Clearly, aliens abducted me in my sleep and planted my head on someone else’s body. This is not mine.

Where is my freaking body?

This is what happens I guess when you take months off any sort of exercise and take the elevator instead of the stairs and wow, clearly it is back to the stairs time for me.

What a catastrophe.

I guess it is all relative though. I was walking to the Academy today and this woman coming towards me gave me the “I hate you” look. She was 5’2″ and weighed at least 150 pounds — and probably more. I guess to her I looked pretty svelte.

She is kind of not the demographic I am interested in looking good to though.

Freaking aliens and their body stealing ways.

 

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:::aliens stole my body i:::
:::aliens stole my body ii:::
:::aliens stole my body iii:::
:::aliens stole my body iv:::

 

where the art work comes from :
that is the abduction of persephone by bernini