Made My Day

I went to Trader Joe's looking for Italian sausage for a lentil stew. They didn't have any. I got Andouille instead.

I decided to get beer, too. Whitbread Pale Ale.

The cute little cashier girl carded me. I snort-chuckled back.

"Are you laughing at me?"
"I'm going to be 40 this year."
"Wow, you look so good. My boyfriend is going to be 30 this year. He's worried about it. "
"30 is great. Tell him not to worry. I hope I can get all these groceries back to my place on my cruiser."
"I'm going to tell my boyfriend about people like you who look young and are living a full life."
"Tell him to eat his vegetables and to exercise. Have a good night."
"Thanks, you too."

I love this town. I love my lifestyle. I love that I inspired a 24 year-old by being myself.

And to think I was bumming earlier today...

Wisdom I Have Gained and Fears of the Unknown

The Bike Life
I signed up to be in another endurance team event. I'm stoked because it's going to be basically a party with bikes in the woods with my some of my favorite people: the Team Wrong Way Boys, who put together a massive team roster. I've been placed on a team with two of my favorite friends: Jeni and Heather. I am told this is Heather's beer season and Jeni has been focusing on school and work. I plan to be the slower teammate despite hard effort, because both of these women kick ass, even without training.

Still, I don't want to be miserable out there, so I've begun to ride more consciously.The last time I did one of these " just for fun" eight hour events, the day following the event I awoke with a huge swollen knee I couldn't stand on. It took a couple of years to fully recover.

I have been the laziest climber since last September's 24 Hour Race, and I've done pretty much no long rides. So, I'm back in the saddle for long slow rides, and trying to ride with someone who kicks my ass at least one a week. Not exactly a world-class racer's training plan, but I figure that this will at least prep my body to avoid Synovitis brought on by sudden overuse.

Coming to Terms with New Frontiers in the Romance Life

Being 39 years old, my dating pool is full of single-dads. I like them because they've got more heart and tend to be dedicated to their kids (which is so darn wholesome), in contrast to a lot of men my age who are just dedicated to themselves. I still get amazed that there's lots of dating to be had at my age, being that I assumed I expired at 35 according to common knowledge of male behavior and preferences for youth. That aside, there's this whole new world of kids to deal with.

Now , I'm not afraid of becoming a step-mom someday. I've got step-parents on both sides of the family, and step-siblings, too. I've been a nanny more than once, and I am a teacher. Guiding kids and managing kids' behavior doesn't scare me at all (even if managing an ex-wife does).

However, last night I had a dream. I was giving kids a bath. I don't remember what they looked like, but I do remember clearly seeing a narrow shelf at the top of the wall on which I had placed a laptop and speakers. Although the shelf was about three inches wide, the laptop and speakers were perfectly balanced.

I was trying to watch something on the computer screen. In my dream I had a consciousness that it was risky to have electronics over the bathtub, but I did it anyway. Of course, the computer and the speakers fell in the tub. Because it was a dream, I had lots of time to react.

My first thought was to be upset that the laptop was ruined. Then I realized I could be electrocuting the kids. I told them to get out of the tub, then I unplugged everything. I received a minute shock in the process, like when you touch something that gives you that little jolt. Nothing happened to the kids.

What's it all mean? I don't know for sure.

Dia del Amor

When I was in elementary school Valentine's Day was fun. Candy, cards for everyone in class, and you got to make construction paper cards for your mom or whomever. It was all about a whole world of red and pink candy coated love.

In high school, even if I didn't have any one boyfriend in particular, there was always a friend or some goofy guy who liked me that sent a rose or two to my class. I always felt loved and happy about it. I always sent roses, too.

Then I grew up and Valentine's Day got weird. A boyfriend I lived with helped a friend move that day and brought me a Japanese doll from the Goodwill pile for a present. I got mad because it seemed like it was thoughtless and last minute. I broke up with him a year later because he wasn't going anywhere in life that I wanted to go. He moved to Hawaii and tried to get me back a few times. I don't know where he is now.

The next boyfriend I had on Valentine's Day went out drinking with his friends and wasn't at his house at the time we had planned to meet. We lived 30 miles apart at the time. I left the present I had made for him with love, consideration and planning, telling his roommmate to tell him to fuck off when he got home. Later I got a phone call telling me how freaked out he got on Valentine's Day, what an asshole he felt like, and what a beautiful present I had put together. He broke up with me about a year and a half later because I was too, well, me, I guess. He is now married with a kid. One time he was at a party without his wife, and started to get a bit flirty talking about the fun times we had. I got away from him fast, like I should have done that Valentine's Day. Sometimes I see him around town and we are friendly.

Other boyfriends are kind of a blur as far as chronological order. One I was with on and off for about two years, he always managed to miss Valentine's Day, but I did score on my birthdays and Christmas' during that time, and for some reason, we shared two July 4th's. Another one really tried to do his Valentine's Day duty, got a hotel room, dinner reservations, flowers, everything a girl is suppossed to want. I had decided shortly before Valentine's Day to break it off with him, but didn't want to ruin his Valentine's plans, he'd been so thoughtful. I tried to fake it, but the truth always comes out. A month or so thereafter he hooked up with another woman and was all too proud to tell me about it. Take that, Valentine's Day faker!

A few years ago one of my guy friends who was just recovering from a divorce said, "Christmas hits you in the jaw, New Year's punches you in the stomach, and just when you're feeling good again, Valentine's Day comes along and kicks you in the balls."

I'd like to take a moment to declare, "Fuck you, Hallmark and all your stupid holidays!" Okay, it's probably not really Hallmark's fault. It's just that, Valentine's Day puts a lot of pressure on people. I know couples who've broken up over it. And while it's certainly not true across the board, I have the impression that a lot of men resent it, and try to just do the minimum to avoid hurting their woman.

I don't know, maybe it's just an annual relationship assessment opportunity, like New Year's resolutions. But it's so very public, everyone asking, "What are you going to do?" or "What did he do for you?"

For anyone out there that is truly celebrating a good relationship, good for you! For others, who are maybe just starting to date a person, or who are dating a few people trying to find the one that fits, or who are going through a divorce or a break up, or who are simply alone, Valentine's Day is an obnoxious boil on one's ass. It asks for clarification, causes questioning, and generally freaks those people out.

Don't get me wrong, I love Love. I've been in it a few times and looking forward to it happening again. So, to love in all it's beauty, because we must celebrate it when it is here. But please, don't force us to fake it once a year when the love is uncertain, or unclear.

Humpday's Half Week in Review

This sweet objet d'art was produced while I was teaching the kids how to write essays. Who needs to pass the California High School Exit Exam when you've got this kind of talent?

What kills me is that my outfit is dead on, but I think the smile and the audience is an interpretation of character...if you click on the drawing, you'll see the guy with the mohawk has a painful looking tongue piercing. This is better than the one where they made me a Mexican with a huge sombrero.

This next one is an homage to toe clips. Upon searching the web for "toe clips", this instructional photo on log hopping in toe clips came up. It kills me, too. Why toe clips you ask? Last Sunday Jessica talked me into a rainy day hardtail ride. She showed up with toe clips and sneakers. Wow, I was scared for her, but she made it happen for three point five hours of rain soaked agony and ecstacy.


And, finally, we have election day. I hesitate to share which way I voted, because I really don't want to hear your political opinions, unless they are like mine, of course...

...but then, I'm probably just trying to throw you off. So, please, don't share yours. We're all wrong in some way, anyhow.