Trying to keep this short, or at least type fast, because I unfairly wrested the computer away from my very patient wife with the half-coherent explanation of "need to do blogging." So, here goes:
I learned this morning that one of my coworkers saw me last night when I was biking home. She didn't come to work on account of an intense migraine, but when she was going to Whole Foods in the evening (because her mother visiting from Morocco needed milk and it had to be Lactate and they don't sell it at Trader Joe's), she passed me when I was crossing Wilson on Quincy. This story was told to me mostly in French (which I don't speak, but no matter how many times I say this, it just isn't making a difference) with only sometimes English explanations, which were kind of incomplete. Anyway, the gist was that her mom pointed out to her that there was some bicyclist out on a very windy day and that Americans are very athletic and also that this one was very "white." So, yeah, that's me.
I've had the bad luck for two days now to get stuck at multiple red lights on my way down New Mexico Ave. Going down this hill should be the highlight of my ride home and the stop lights really screw up my "descent." It's probably for the best. No need to rush.
My hands really hurt today. I guess I've been pressing my wrists and palms too hard into the handlebars. Again, this is something I'll probably get used to.
Joggers are out. It only takes one warm day to wake them from their hibernation (like bears, maybe?), then regardless of how cold or rainy or windy or generally inclement the weather is, they're out for good. I can't say that I wholeheartedly endorse the joggers and jogging (why are you running? unhibernating bear?), but to each his/her own. I recommend reflective clothing because it's still dark and it's better to be seen than not, even if you're only jogging on sidewalks (which tend to be interrupted by streets). If you're running for some reason, at least be safe about it.
Had a lot of weird songs stuck in my head today, including "Trouble" from The Music Man. Iowa's messed up and there's no way I believe the Marian didn't have some sex thing with the old dude who left her the books, but the town the library. If you need a Music Man synopsis, here it is, philistine. I couldn't remember what the con was initially, though I eventually remembered about the band and the far, far too many trombones, but I was for a little only able to think about the monorail episode from The Simpsons, which in turn made me want to watch Conan on-demand tonight. I also home some Supremes and some weird Hungarian stuff, which I whistled. Something about riding a bike puts your head in a weird place, I guess.