Absent-Mindfully

Goodnight, Animals

2008-10-02T14:04:00.004-04:00

If you've been following my Tweets you know that my gerbil suddenly got sick around Sunday night. After flailing around for what seems like weeks to find a vet that would take her and trying to get her there (and even being turned away by the vet inside Petsmart, who sold her to me years ago), she died Tuesday evening while both Kasey and I were at work.

She was about four, which is like two gerbil lifetimes. Apparently the oldest reported gerbil was only five, but still, I'm bummed. Especially since no one was at home when she went. Kasey was going to take her to a vet that was confirmed to treat gerbils the next day, but I guess it was just her time. Or something gay like that. I hate that no one was there; I had plans to at least try and hold and comfort her. The last night I covered her cage in the undershirt I'd worn that day and put her on my bedside nightstand so she could at least smell and hear me and know someone familiar was near. Whatever was wrong with her, she apparently couldn't see.

We called her Gerbie, and she knew her name. I could call out to her from across the room and she'd pop up and look at me without fail. I'd venture to say she was eccentric as gerbils go. She couldn't get the hang of those gerbil exercise balls and didn't seem to like being out anyway. She was friends with the cat and before that a pet snake and she loved Cheerios. But beside all that she was my pet, and alive, and part of my daily life. Her worth, any living thing's worth, is not only in the tricks it can pull or what use they fulfill.

I know it had to happen some day, and death is a part of life, and I'm Buddhist and Buddhists believe in re-incarnation and the illusion of death and birth, and all that junk, but still... I don't like it. My stomach was sick with worry every day and even though I knew she was old, I was still going to try and fix her. I have to find a shovel now, so I can bury her in the grass behind my apartment building. It's so weird having a pet die in the city.

If I buy another pet, it's going to be a tortoise or something that will have to bury me.

- David

Don't State, Insinuate

2008-09-28T17:22:00.001-04:00

Are y'all familiar with the world's shortest horror story?
"The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door..."

Uh huh, I see you shakin' in ya booties. I thought about that story on the way to the bathroom just now, and when someone walked in as I was walking out it scared the crap out of me. Why? Cuz of all that story leaves unsaid. The mind runs wild with posibilities when the gate is left open. Why is he the last man? Was there an apocalypse? If so, what kind? Animal, vegetable, zombical, other? And who the hell is at the door! Vague things are scarier than defined things, any day. I'd even venture to say that vague anything is better than defined anything, any day. Magic tricks, movie endings, sexual promises, all better when you don't try to cram it into a little box.

There's a quote somewhere that I've remembered for years about how human language is made up of eight basic sounds or something, but I can't find it. (Literally an hour later) Oh wait, here it is: "Language consists of five basic sounds produced by the vocal cords. They are the vowels a, e, i, o, u. The other sounds are consonants produced by air pressure: s, f, g, and so forth." So it was more than eight, but less than fourty-four. Anyway, people's thoughts are defined by their language; what makes us think that which we think could ever encompass what is really there, based on such a limited number of simple sounds? That's why the undefined is scarier/more beautiful/more honest than the defined. How much more is said with a caress than with words? I didn't really have a point with all that, I'm just sayin'. It's slow today, sue me.

The weather has been beautiful lately. Too bad I've been a lazy turd and have ridden exactly .03 miles per month. It's really more than that, but it doesn't feel like it. I need to get out on Saturdays again, even if it's by myself. I've made a goal internally to not drive to work a single day in October, come Hell or high water, which is still better maneuvered on a bike. Speaking of, we had craaaazy rain storms on Thursday. A bunch of the roads I would have taken home were closed due to flooding and once or twice the highest speed setting of the wipers couldn't keep my vision cleared. It was fun, I love bad weather.

Animals are good, Kasey is good, friends are good, Walden is good, Story of O was good (but ended badly), Lady Vengeance is good, Virginia is good, I'm good. Just need to relax; I made fun of a fat guy yesterday without even realizing it. Time to take more naps.

- David

Remiss You

2008-09-22T16:29:00.001-04:00

Werk Entry

I have been remiss. I have been busy. I have been buried. I have been lazy. I'm sorry. I haven't blogged, I haven't called, I haven't communicated with anyone past the carry of my pretty little voice, with the exception of a few spurious e-mails between the gal and I.

It's been interesting, being without a cell phone. Generally it agrees with me, but I'm getting a phone card tonight so I can reach out to friends and family and soon either a land line will be installed (almost a novelty) or the cell phones will be resurrected. I know how my old woman worries when I'm out and about on the bike without a way to be contacted.

Presently I'm e-mailing this in from work between phone calls and reboots. Work is the reason I've been incommunicado, as well as that which will allow me to be con communicado again. Mandatory overtime for months is a mixed blessing. I think I'm getting used to it, as long as I get two days off. For a couple of weeks I only had one day off, then back on for six more fun-filled, 10 hour shifts. But it is allowing me to crawl out of the hole I'm currently in. I just hope it ends soon. I'd rather slowly crawl out of this money pit and take a nap or two along the way than jump out of it and land a grumpy, tired, malcontent on the other side.

Fall is here, just today. The weather feels like it, too. Soon I'll have to change my change of clothes for the ride home. Kasey's new Starbucks opened today as well, just outside our neighborhood. She's been walking every day and shift-managering like a pro. My little Kasey, starting off as shift manager in a brand new store which is bound to be busy and successful. *sniff sniff* I'm so proud! And avoiding internal combustion too!

Lately instead of browsing channels we browse the book store, and always come away with something new or a title added to our lists of future reading. I have two books with me at all times, and whether it's the biological history of the human body, another David spending two years by a pond, ancient Chinese secrets, or the story of a French submissive, I'm kept in good company. I should have been a book reviewer, or perhaps the person who writes the crappy story summations on the flaps and backs of new novels.

Kasey and I just finished reading the same book at the same time, which something I had always wanted to do. One of the character's internal thinking matched mine to a surprising degree, despite the fact that she's fictional, Canadian, and a middle-aged woman. I've read characters I would like to be, and characters I've shared isolated quarks with, but never one who thought as I did. Margaret Atwood knows lives; I can see now why Kasey loves her. Currently for me it's Walden (which I am enjoying immensely on many levels; that guy, is a genius) and Story of O, which is a dirty, dirty book. But it's pretty damn good too. I found it in Barnes and Noble's "eclectic classics" section and was sold after the first ten pages. Let us just say they contained a lot of wieners, and there wasn't no BBQ. It's very interesting to read such things in a writing style that is very proper, girlish, and shy.

One hour to go, I can make it. Take care.

- David

Ring-a-ling!

2008-09-13T10:40:00.003-04:00

Even though it's completely shitty that I'm not in Boston right now, I'm still super stoked that my amigo Aero and his lady Wendy and tying the knot today!

The met, they wooed, they did the long distance Internet thing, and now they're marrying in what I'm imagining as the prettiest town with unicorns and free candy and cigar shoppes as far as the eye can see. But that could just be because I'm feeling all left out cuz I couldn't be there.

But enough of that! Congrats guys! Hopefully we'll see you soon!

- David

Stuff & Yeah

2008-08-30T16:12:00.005-04:00

A pretty cute commercial, whether you're a bike dork or not.

So stuff has been going okay. Work has picked up since my sups have "progressed" me, which basically means I'm cleared to take more types of calls than I was before. So instead of being able to read a couple pages between calls now I can take a couple breaths. This also means that instead of bright, shiny new users who are polite I'm taking calls from people who are upset that their shit is broken. It gives me lots of opportunities to practice patience, acceptance, and ~~fake~~ politeness.

I had a race last night after Critical Mass, put on by local biker and photo-grapher Wes. The $5 entry fee went to the SPCA and the racers went on a seven mile loop through Downtown Norfolk and Ghent in roughly the shape of Hello Kitty's head, which also adorns the spoke card. I was most excited for the pre-race track stand competition, which I did pretty well in. Top three got to start three minutes early, and after we could only use one hand the number dropped quickly and myself and two other guys got to take off ahead of the pack. Not that it did me any good, I still came in fifth place. I feel that I'm a decent enough rider, but I tend to get turned around or take circuitous routes when I'm on my own. As soon as I know the streets as well as my fellow racers I'll do a lot better.

My one self-consolation is that I beat out another rider in a dead sprint to the finish. It's one thing to finish an entire race before someone, but to be neck and neck at the end and pull ahead is a pretty cool feeling. He had a good burst of speed but couldn't keep the sprint up, which is really the hardest part. Another fun part was wrecking into Kurtz on the way to the bar and somehow unclipping from both pedals, hopping off the bike as it somersaulted under and away from me, and landing perfectly on one foot, hitting the ground running as it were.

Racing up Church Street was especially fun, cutting through traffic and running red lights (always with care) like I was a seventeen-inch wide ambulance. During races one finds oneself doing things one would curse at other cyclists for if it was any other day of the week, such as riding between lanes of traffic or between traffic and the curb and ignoring signs, lights, and one-way streets. But hey, it's a race. It's not any other day of the week. I'm a respectable enough rider the rest of the time, and even when I'm not I don't get in anyone's way. And I always make sure to at least have the outlines of an escape plan if shit goes south. Even if that plan involves possibly rolling across the hood of a parked car or taking my chances in oncoming traffic.

Kasey has been working two jobs, one at Panera and the other training at Starbucks. A new one is opening right outside of our tiny neighborhood and Kasey got hired there, which is fantastic. She loves working for Starbucks and she won't have to drive out to Virginia Beach and back every day, which is like a raise in itself. You could walk there in ten minutes or so. Monday is her last day as a double-jobber and I'm proud of her for staying at Panera so long, even after she got hired at Starbucks. Let's just say her soon-to-be previous employer wasn't exactly up to her standards.

Also, although 98% of you won't know what I'm talking about and the other 1.9% won't care, I now have a perfect town in Animal Crossing on my Nintendo DS. What is Animal Crossing? It's a game that's hard to explain and even harder to justify to your friends. You basically live in a little town with other non-player characters and do things like fish, catch bugs, plant trees and flowers, write letters, decorate your house (which you pay off your mortgage on to upgrade), etc. This game for me is epitome of Japanese game making: Simple, weird, adorable, and somehow addicting. Anyway, if you get the perfect balance of trees and flowers in half or more of your acres then your town is "perfect". I needed to pass some time, so I mapped out my entire town on a grid and got every acre to be prefect. If I can keep it so for two weeks I get a golden watering can. Why? To grow golden roses of course! Yeah, I know. But it took time and effort and I feel I've accomplished something.

With that confession of nerdiness, I'm outtie. Have a safe Labour Day (as they'd say across the water) and for those of you who follow my Twitters and such: I'm alive, I'm well and moving around, I just can't text for a bit. I'll check in when I can.

Bonzai!

- David

Steel & Momentum

2008-08-20T07:05:00.003-04:00

By this time a couple of years ago, my dad was hearing the worst news of his entire life.

A lot of people feel real tragedy can't touch them. They haven't felt it and so don't really believe it's something that can happen. Death is something that happens on TV, to pets, and to old relatives. But people are fragile. Our soft bodies are easily damaged and our intricate systems can fail with a whisper.

Be careful out on those roads. If you're sleepy, stay off the road. If you've had a few, don't drive. Get off the cell phone, put the food down, your coffee can wait. You're piloting an enormous amount of deadly steel and momentum. It deserves your full attention.

I wore my mala beads today. Today I'll watch The Fountain, and probably some Wes Anderson. If I had the money I'd get another ring around my wrist. I'll drink. I'll remind myself that nothing is born and that nothing really dies. I'll tell myself that he's still around, just in different forms. I'll try to pretend like I've really accepted death as a part of life. Last night we watched The Darjeeling Limited and as the actors played across the screen I wished I had two brothers still. I liked being one of three boys.

Hug someone today. And to make it not cheesy, when they're not looking, covertly hump them a little.

- David

God Damn Cyclists

2008-08-15T13:08:00.003-04:00

And I mean that sincerely.

You know how certain people get about certain movies/music/books they really, really like? How if other people hate them, then they're just retarded retards anyway. And if other people like them, then they're poser douchebag dickheads? Yeah, that's how I am with cycling lately.

Before, my love of cycling was a lot more accepting in nature: "You ride bikes too?! Then you are my brother and can do no wrong." Now it's much more, "Fucking cyclists! Get the fuck off the sidewalk/road/face of the Earth!" This thought goes through my head even if I'm currently on a bike. Why this sudden change? I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I can't get my sorry ass to work without leaving my bike locked to a fence at some bus stop because rusty, mis/disused, hobo-ghetto bicycles are always filling up the racks. And the recent proliferation of inexperienced cyclists out on the road doing shit like riding down the wrong side of the road and nearly killing me, themselves, and my faith in man in the process.

Give me the cold days, the rainy days, the shitty weather days over a nice sunny day. At least then I don't have to worry about some pasty office worker in spandex on a beach cruiser fucking with my chi. Good weather brings out the Good Weather Riders, which have about as much experience on a bike in traffic as I do on a donkey under water. It's not that they're intrinsically stupid (actually, there's a good chance they are) it's mostly that they have no idea what the hell they are doing. Imagine me, David the blogger, deciding to try being a rodeo clown. I go out into the pit or whatever the hell it's called, and then wrap a blanket over my head and proceed to stumble about. I may get lucky and keep all my plasma inside my body, but more likely than not I'm going to get myself and somebody else hurt. That's what I see when a person who only bikes on "nice days" goes by: A rodeo clown with a blanket over their head, who doesn't even have the decency to wear those huge clown pants so I can be spared the intimate details of their saggy anatomy.

Now all Asshole Elitism aside, I do like people riding bikes. It makes me happy to see people happy as they pedal along, enjoying the breeze and the smooth exercise. But if you're going to do it, do it right. Know the rules of the road, right-of-way, and traffic laws, so that when you ignore them it can at least be a conscious decision and maybe done correctly enough to not cause any misfortune. As for my own part, I read and I read and I read until I figured I couldn't read anymore. Then I rode to work for two days and read a whole bunch more I discovered I didn't know. I'm still doing that to this day.

But don't be fooled, you can't learn how to navigate the dangerous and sexy Metal Stream of Traffic from blogs and books. It has to be done before you can know how to do it. Just like porkin'. You are going to fuck up and you are going to piss off motorists and other cyclists alike along the way. Hell, I'm sure I do it every time I saddle up. But as experience grows you fuck up less, and the fuck ups become more slight, and then before you know it you're only pissing motorists off on purpose. (Actually that's a lie, there's no way to not piss off motorists, on a bike or not.)

When it gets cold again I'm sure my tune will change. People find ways to get where they're going inside shiny happy vehicles when the temperature drops and forget all thought of biking. Even motorists are a bit more tolerant when it's twelve degrees outside or raining gallon-droplets on your head. Then I'll be all excited to see a fellow cyclist out on the road and my brotherly love will come flooding back until the seasons change yet again and a new flood of n00bs arrives.

But then again, I'm sure there's someone out there who views Y.T. in exactly the same light.

- David

PRIRATE BROADCAST

2008-08-11T20:41:00.001-04:00

I was a bit punch-drunk when I made this. Just a warning for all the random crap.

- David

I'm Not Being Sarcastic When I Say...

2008-08-10T07:23:00.004-04:00

...that people can be pretty awesome.

I know I bitch a lot on this blog. I bet if I categorized my posts they would fall into either "Bitching", "Bicycles", "Bitching with Bicycles", or "Random". I don't know what it is but the last two days I've been waking up on the bluebird side of the bed and this morning I feel like giving a big mushy e-hug to the people I think are awesome folk.

Firstly (and most recently) my friend Sam. Today he woke up early and drove me into work just because he's a good guy. After we were on the road he told me he'd gone to bed after 3:30 this morning, and he was at my house at 6:15, exactly when I'd asked him to. Also last night he bought us pizza and let Kasey and I relax on his couch while we watched a movie and I had a few beers. Sam is barely twenty-one and he just finished his first week as Store Manager of a Starbucks out in Suffolk. He's the man. Besides always offering to help and being a ton of fun to hang out with, Sam is just awesome. And so cute! Cheers to Sam.

Kasey's dad is also awesome. He's put more time and resources into Kasey's car this year than some people would put into their own children. He works more than any rational person should but still makes time for us no matter how tired he must feel. He always has pop and some kind of sweets for us to eat when we go over to his house and watch sports or Nascar. He's one of the genuinely nicest guys I know. He loves his daughter and takes care of her, which I'm really rather partial too. Cheers Kenny!

Speaking of great Heights (ha!) Kasey is pretty wonderful. I imagine that it's not always pixie sticks and slip-n-slides living with Y.T. What with the math retardation and constant leg humping and all. I do talk a lot of crap about things she is only mildly interested in simply because it's me doing the talking, which actually is very sweet when you know how Kasey is. She worries about me consuming meat and meat by-products whenever we go somewhere new to eat, and worries I'm eating enough in general. (Although between you, me, and the firewall (oh I'm so witty) I probably could cut back on the munching a bit.) We may be opposites in a lot of ways, but the parts of us that come together are pretty fantastic (and wet!) and we get each other. Plus, she has a great caboose. Cheers Kasey!

My friend Kurtz is a cool guy. I gave a shout out to him in my recent Commuting Anniversary post but I'll say a bit more here. Besides being a dedicated spandex-free cyclist he's intelligent, darkly funny, and honest almost to a fault. Last night Kasey described him to a friend as being anti-establishment. I'd never thought about it before but in a way that's totally true. The man is well-learned in the art of sarcasm and conversations with him are never dull or short on laughs. He likes the same movies I like, and in my way of thinking that's almost like being in the same cult or something. Despite his rough and tumble exterior he cares a lot about his friends. He's also the only man I've ever seen steal a cross and get up in the middle of a movie to pop next door for a drink (it was the Rocky Horror Picture Show but still, it was sweet.) Kurtz, cheers!

I'm going to combine two peeps here cuz in my mind they're always penetrating each other anyway. My brothers from anothers mothers Aero and Nano are my oldest friends and comrades. While I've met Aero only once in real life I'm set to be one of his groomsmen in his upcoming wedding, which is pretty damn cool. I put both of these guys down in the one-thousand page application for my security clearance under the section of "People Who Have Known You The Longest That Are Not Your Family And Still Like You, Somewhat". Aero and I have our own kind of language when we talk online, which is a mix of Spanish, 13 year-old girl AOL speak, l33t, and other shit we made up. While our opinions on movies does differ wildly at times, I feel we respect each other's film savvy enough to bow heads and shake hands and agree to leave the dueling pistols in the box. Now this may sound weird, but if either Nano or myself had been lucky enough to be born a lady we would totally be that couple people hate but secretly envy. Nano and I have one of those strange friendships that somehow bloomed almost instantly into something deep and lasting even though while I lived in Phoenix we hardly saw each other and don't talk much now. Cheers Nano and Aero!

Even though he's a punk and moved away I'm still going to mention Jeff. Jeff, I know I owe you an e-mail! It's coming, I just have to steal some Internets first. Jeff was the bridge between my solo cycling and the poor sods I currently bug on the Portsmouth side of the river. Without him I wouldn't have joined up with the Saturday riders (which I haven't done in months, but I will again soon) or gotten my clipless pedals as soon or as cheap. Which may not sound like a lot to you, but it is to me. Those two things helped cement cycling as a Big Thing in my life. Always upbeat and mindful of doing right, Jeff makes Jesus proud. And I'm not being patronizing or sarcastic in the least. If all Christians were like Jeff the world would be much better off. Always entertaining and fun to be around, P-Town misses him! Cheers Jeff!

I'd also like to say cheers to my bike Jenny for helping me get so totally buff that if I squat to tie my shoe my pants and underwears rip like I was Lou Farrigno from the waste down. Also for getting me around on the cheap and allowing my body to partake of it's natural biological processes. She's never broken down on me and even though she gets left out in the rain, locked to fences in questionable areas, and manhandled by a clumsy, sweaty guy she still looks good. Cheers Jenny!

If I left you out, you're still probably awesome. Unless you're a dick. And if so, eat it.

- David

Ketchup

2008-08-08T10:45:00.003-04:00

Macaframa from MACAFRAMA on Vimeo

I love Macaframa. At the beginning of the above video I figured some kind of bunny hop action would happen, but I should have known it wouldn't be that simple. I'm totally gonna try this now (and eat shit in the process.)

Speaking of surprises on bicycles, I had a few good ones this week. I dunno if it's the weather or what, but people are being assholes again. For a while there I wasn't getting honked at, yelled at, gestured at, nothing. When I first started cycling I got yelled at weekly for about a month or two. This could very well be due to the fact that I was just starting out and I wasn't doing shit correctly or smoothly. But also, it was this time last year that I started, so maybe it is the weather.

At any rate, yesterday I was slowly partaking of the sidewalk to get around a mess on Granby (which is a narrow two-way street in downtown Norfolk) caused by a power company truck blocking one lane and a city bus trying to get around it while on-comming traffic tried to decide if it was going to stop and let it or not. I was rolling along at about jogging speed or slower and I came upon your typical teen/twenties guy: Backwards fitted baseball cap, long shorts, and t-shirt by some bad that probably sucks. I was preparing a line to go around him when he turned his head, saw me, and moved over well before I was near him. I appreciated it and said "Thanks!" as I rolled by, but before the word was even out of my mouth he says something like, "...the fuck where you're going." Ooookay. I'm already gone by the time I register what people have said to me so I just ride on. Maybe I startled him and he was trying to compensate.

On Wednesday when I decided to take on the hill I've been avoiding lately, I had the pleasure of getting gassed by a pickup truck spraying mosquito poison. It had a sign on the back that warned people to stay back 100 feet and here I am, out in the world, not surrounded by my own little bubble of AC and filtered air, getting sprayed. The scariest thing somehow was that the cloud of whatever it was coming out of the back of that thing tasted slightly minty. Luckily after a few blocks the truck turned down a side street. Then the hill came. I was all jazzed to stand up and get some good burn going and had just started to do so when I noticed a cyclist in the bike lane ahead of me. A second or two later I realize he's coming down the hill.

One of the things I hate more than anything are cyclists who don't know what the fuck they're doing riding on the wrong side of the road. I'm not even going to wait and play that game where we hesitate and then both move into each other's path again. I start looking over my shoulder to see when the SUVs and rice rockets in the lane directly next to me will be gone so I can get over. Finally an SUV from Idaho gets over for me and I'm able to get out of the path of the angry black man barreling down on me.

Now, in my mind I'm going, "Fucker, you're on the wrong side of the road!" but we're going too fast and I don't like to be a dick unless it's part of some role playing me and my girl are currently enjoying, so I don't say anything. However as we get close he raises his fist and yells in my face "Get the fuck over!" Right. This doesn't even bother me like the kid on the sidewalk sorta does because obviously I did get over and I'm 100% in the right here. Which is really what people care about above all else. In a world run by rules I dictate, he would have said "Thanks for getting over!" because he had no where to go but into direct traffic or somehow hop up over the tall curb and onto the sidewalk.

Not all surprises were bad however, as I randomly ran into someone I knew while we were both on bikes. This may happen to a lot of you cyclists out there, but for me, it never does. I guess I'm always going a specific somewhere instead of "hanging out" and that lowers the probability of a chance encounter. As I waited for traffic I saw a guy named Wes go by, who's pretty much responsible for Critical Mass here, and decided to chase him. I caught up with him after a few lights and had to yell to get his attention as he was listening to music. We chatted a bit navigating through Downtown and then parted ways as he was on his way to work. It was weird to see him on a bike that wasn't his tandem or attached to a trailer with his kid in it.

On my way home a guy on the sidewalk asked me how much my bike weighed while I waited for a light. He asked if I was a messenger (I did not have my bag, so there) and I of course said no. But man, that would be pretty awesome, if for no other reason than I love riding bikes, it's fun to be outside, and sitting on my ass all day in front of a computer is getting old. Maybe one day. I wouldn't turn it down.

- David

Salsa

2008-08-03T13:42:00.002-04:00

To my handsome, sexy, benevolent, virile, and intelligent loyal readers this post will probably feel more like my normal writing then the recent stuff I've put out. Why? Because once again it is spurred by boredom at work.

It's Sunday and I'm seven hours into a ten hour shift. Today marks the start of my pemenant schedule of Sundays through Wednesdays, 7:00 AM to 5:30 PM. (As an aside, for someone who takes pride in being a grammar and spelling Nazi I have no idea how times should be correctly written out and am too lazy to check. Everytime I write out a time I think of that.) In seven hours I have taken three calls and my Average Talk Time is six minutes, fourty-two seconds. It's fantastic. I have all this time to read away from televisions, chores, dogs, and girlfriends who need some attention from Y.T.

The downside is I'm a bit sleepy. My new book The Tao is Silent has kept me awake and entertained thusfar, but getting up around 5:30 catches up with a person. I'm over one hundred and seventy-two pages in and just now read the back cover to find that the author is a mathematical logician! I don't even know what that is but I would never have guessed someone with "mathematical" and "logician" in their title would be able to write with such humor and spontenaity. Which is how I like my learnin', especially about philosophies of which I currently subscribe.

Walking around today trying to find cream and sugar for my office coffee I spotted a strategically placed co-worker napping. Strategically placed both in location and position as he was away from the bulk of traffic and slumped just out of sight behind his quarter-cubicle partition. Attempting in my own subtle way to practice Taoism in my daily life I decided to take a nap too. The Head Resting on Hand technique did nothing for me as my apparently unbalanced head kept falling off my arm everytime I passed a certain point of unconciousness. I opted instead for the Laid Back school, resting my head on the back of the chair.

Success! After waking up a few times to find my mouth hanging open and stifling the rising fear of drooling I even managed to have a little dream in which someone was debating me about marshmellows. I awoke fifteen minutes later or so, refreshed and energized, just in time for two tech leads to walk by looking for magnetic letters to stick up on a whiteboard. To you this may seem deplorable, unprofessional, and irresponsible but to me it makes perfect, natural, sense: I'm sleepy, the beeping phone would wake me up if there was a call, and if you could get away with it at work you'd do it too. Plus, all last week was a shit storm of varying degrees so I'm owed a slow day. Or at least I'm prepared to take full advantage of one.

Kasey's car is busted, still. Turns out it was the alternator or something. Her dad is currently in possession of the White Talon, a tow truck having picked it up yesterday afternoon in literally ten seconds. I have never seen anything so efficient involving one vehicle, let alone two. I hope that guy get some kind of recognition for being able to back that truck up, lowering the crucifix-like tow arm in the process, hooking the front tires, and lifting it up all with perfect precision. A bowling trophe with an abandoned car on top instead, perhaps.

One of the fun things that happens to me a lot in life is that things work out nicely all by themselves. For instance buses don't run Sundays but one of the guys I went through training with is on nearly my exact schedule, so I car-pooled in today. I'm now working Sundays and out of the blue Kasey gets offered to switch schedules for one that would includes Sundays for her, too. This type of thing happens so frequently, it seems Kasey is even to the point where it's no longer remarkable.

Okay, I'm off to locate some sugar for my instant grits while I take the last break of the day. Or maybe I'll try some more of this napping thing in the Quiet Room, which is really just a restroom with a locable door and a plastic chair.

Happy Sunday.

- David

Mobies

2008-07-30T16:46:00.004-04:00

I like movies. I like seeing movies in theatres. Some people don't like to pay for movies when they can download them for free, but I like the experience of going to the movies. Even though they take a (Coca Cola-)red hot poker and jam it into my ass with ticket and concession prices. As long a your girlfriend doesn't throw it away (and I'm looking at you Kaseyfacey) that movie popcorn lasts forever anyway.

Recently I've seen The Fall and The Dark Knight. Twice. Once in IMAX. Suck it! The Fall was beautiful. I'm at work and shouldn't be blogging anyways, so I'm not going to go all hypertexty on you guys. Look it up yerselves. It was mostly everything I like in a movie. Beautifully shot, with purdy people, and a little girl with chubby cheeks and no front teeth. Did I cry during this movie? Yes. Was it because of Charles Darwin? Yes. I wish I could see it again but it's one of those movies that only stays at The Naro for a short time. I'll just say a few things then move on: Lee Pace is a handsome, handsome man. You don't need special effects to have a visually stunning movie. Sugar pills are not funny to some people.

Now. The Dark Knight. I love this movie. The action is fantastic: well done but not over done, exciting, and imaginative. The writing is very un-comic-book-movie. You forget you're watching Batman; it's just a movie. If that makes sense. And the acting: Christian Bale, I like you. I really do. But your Batman voice in this one was duuuumb. I liked your fighting style better though. Gary Oldman, nothing less than I expected. You are the man. Aaron Eckhart, you sure are handsome. Too bad you didn't get to bang Katie Holmes again! You definitely have the eyes for Two-Face. Am I forgetting anyone? Oh. Right. Heath Ledger. Heath, you make me so sad. You played the best Joker anyone could ever play. I want to be The Joker's friend, even if he does scare me sometimes. And he did. But I also love him. That's hard to do. You gave me chills. Both times. As Kasey put it, watching The Joker is probably the most bitter-sweet movie experience I've ever had.

IMAX actions scenes of the Dark Knight were breath taking. My definite favorite is when they're transporting a certain someone and a certain someone else comes and messes shit up. Then someone else comes and messes the second guy's shit up too. The entire thing is sweet and contains the only action sequence to make me literally sit up in my chair and speak some kind of expletive. Go see it.

Also seen recently was a re-release of Blade Runner. Lordy is that movie long. But I like it, and it looked really good. I watch it regularly while I fall asleep. Sean Young is hot in a kind of bitchy way and (young) Harrison Ford is the man. I'll say this: I'd rather watch long-ass Blad Runner than the new Indiana Jones. That's for sure.

Okay, I'm outie for now. I'm tired as balls and twice as ugly so I gotta conserve my energy.

Keep it real, dawgs.

- David

It's Not Like In The Movies

2008-07-28T16:55:00.001-04:00

It never is. It's never as simple or clear-cut. It's never as resolved.

I'm too much of a softy for my own episode finale.

- David

A Year of Bike Commuting

2008-07-28T15:42:00.002-04:00

Sunday, dear friends, marked my one year bike commuting anniversary. Woo! Apparently I set a calendar reminder and totally forgot about it until a text showed up proclaiming the event.

It's not a big thing, but I am proud. The only things I'm really able to continue doing for an entire year is your moms, so this feels like a real, albeit subtle, achievement. Kinda like, "Oh, I've been coming to this same bar for a year." If you've know me personally for any decent length of time you're aware I'm not a big goal setter. This just happened, and I'm glad.

Let's do math! This is going to be so horribly generalized that it's nowhere near accurate, but so what. It's my party. Before I got let go I was commuting 6.5 miles each way. I worked there for about nine months, if I remember correctly. So that's 2,340 miles right there. Then for months and months I was doing 24 to 35 miles every Saturday with the Portsmouth gang. Let's say I did that for... six months at an average of 29.5 miles. There's another 708 miles. All together, 3,048 miles in less than a year strictly going to work and riding on Saturdays. That doesn't count the few races, numerous store runs, and general daily dicking around I do on two wheels. Hells yeah, that's a lot of miles.

Even though it's vaguely unrelated, the recent truck-ectomy I've undergone makes my transition to the dark side feel complete. I do still drive Kasey's car on occasion but if she ever found my collection of questionably-legal "reading material" I'd be four-wheeled vehicle free. Concerning the aforementioned removal of my truck, I would like to say I paint it cleaner and prettier than it actually was. I do like being bicycle-only, but I don't like the way it went down, and I apologize to those that had to deal with it.

As other peeps online (see the Stalk Others section, stage right) have already said, it's not really about saving money or the environment (which are both good) although I admit to resorting to charts & graphs regularly when attempting to convert non-riders. Cycling is a huge complex of simple pleasures, beauty, and logistics all working smoothly together to produce a phenomenon that's just good. I feel dumb trying to name it so I'm done. Just try it. Twice. Even if it hurts the first time. ;)

In celebration I rode My Girl Friday, recently retrofitted with a front brake, into work yesterday. I want to take her out more, but she's like the hot teen-aged daughter I hope to never have: I think everyone wants to take her away from me and do horrible, horrible things. I see them eying her as we go by, leering like construction workers. Jenny is the tomboy, I don't worry about her much. We'll see how it turns out.

In closing, I'd like to thank Kasey for putting up with my ever-increasing bike dorkiness, and my friend Kurtz for being the first car-free guy I know and showing me it could be done with style and a hefty drinking schedule. Also Google Maps for only steering me wrong once out of a million routes, and all the guys at Cycle Classics for fixing my shit and giving me a place to hang. And God. Because I feel Him in this blog tonight. But not Jesus. Jesus can suck it.

- David

Vain Davey

2008-07-24T17:48:00.002-04:00

I get off the bus. I'm already wearing cheap rainpaints rolled up to the knees over my jeans, similarly rolled. Two thin neoprene toe-covers are stretched over the first half of my scuffed black and white sneakers. My helmet, huge and red and hated, is already damp from being left outside all day. A tight black cycling cap under that. Sleeveless wool undershirt, white cotton t-shirt.

Waiting for a break in three lanes of commuter traffic. LEDs blink brightly (one hopes) in the heavy raincloud light. One foot shoved into a shiny metal toe-clip with a cheap strap. Looking over my shoulder at the white lights of oncoming cars it begins to drizzle.

Cutting diagonally across the moistened black road thunder cracks so close and loud I duck over the handlebars. Behind me a smattering of cars approach as they float down the bridge. The wind can't decide which direction to blow. The air is cool. I'm behind a line of cars, waiting to turn onto a more quiet street.

The light changes and we're off. I consciously tell myself "Drop, drop, drop" as I drop the weight of my body down on each falling pedal, trying to let gravity boost my acceleration and save my knees. I try to rotate my ankles just so, spreading the point of pressure over the axis of the pedal. There are as many different ways to pedal as there are variations of people's walks.

Cars pass me, hissing rain under their glossy tires. I eye every parked car's door suspiciously as I skirt the line between giving the cars that pass enough room and keeping some for myself. The rain has picked up a little. A fucking SUV pulls out of the curved intersection in front of me, accelerating faster than average, scurrying out of my way.

Rainfall ramps up smoothly but dramatically in a few minutes. I pull over to the empty parking spaces along the two-way street. No decent trees. I lean my bike against some sign I can't read. Sliding my bag off, I remove my hat and helmet and pull the now transparent cotton t-shirt over my head. My shoes are already soaked through. Unrolling the red rain jacket from my bag and replacing it with the wet shirt I smile ruefully, making for my eyes an overhang of my brow against the rain. A different SUV pulls into the side street in front of me, stops, reverses, and heads back the way it came. Jacket donned, I replace my headgear and squish my shoe into the toe-clip. It's raining so hard it feels like hundreds of heavy fingers drumming on the flat of my shoulders.

No traffic. Kicking off the sidewalk and onto the pavement, alive and fuzzy with the downpour. The rain is hurting my face, tiny disintegrating stones that threaten to split my lip. I bare my teeth in a maniac's grin and the reduced surface area of my lips catch fewer blows. My mouth tastes like I've lost a tooth. Warm salt water, pain, and metallics. I pass a ponchoed figure getting into his Jeep Liberty and he yells "Woo!", grinning and holding his hood as I go by. Woo indeed.

I grudgingly talk myself into pulling in to a cantina parking lot, crossing the rivered gutter. My mouth tastes so salty I'm sure something is broken. Spitting into my palm I see nothing. Again, nothing. It hits me: The collection of salt in my hat is being rinsed out into my face and mouth. Back on the road I spit to my right for a few blocks before it stops. I half wish it was blood. There's no angle that allows me to shield my face and see at the same time.

Ridiculously, "This Is How We Do It" plays over and over in my head as I fight the wind and what must surely be torrential downpour. There's no voice telling me to pull over, wait it out. That voice died in infancy a year ago.

I love this. This is the heart. I'm a red blur of… I can't name it. But it's in your face, jeering with a confidence and a finality that you've never known. Racing down one side and up the other of an underpass at over thirty miles an hour, you wish you were me. Peering out of your minivan window with envy at my freedom. I don't even see you. To me you are a metal cube that may be out to get me, and you blink out of existence as anonymously as you entered it the moment you're out of my personal bubble.

My wheels glide like salmon through puddles so deep the water swamps my feet with every revolution. I'm laughing. Part of me is already speaking these lines. The largest part is effortlessly rotating the sphere of my multi-layered perception in al directions, taking in detail and danger. Exiting an empty parking lot I lock up my rear wheel with my legs and slide across the matte blacktop, barely even slowing down.

Downtown. I run a stop sign that's there for no reason. No one honks. Moving through traffic and construction the natural grace of my movement overtakes me and I become the smoothest motherfucker you know. I'm God, I'm Jesus, I'm your misspent youth well spent. I'm Clive Owen in Sin City. I'm everything you want to be. I'm a bright and burning reminder of all the things you've done wrong in your life, looking down from your office window. Look at me. Now look at yourself. At this moment, I am magic.

A tree branch has fallen over my path. I tilt my head back and to the side like I was peering around cigarette smoke as I speed towards it. Everyone is huddled under the overhangs of buildings; my way is clear of pedestrians. I'm panting so hard nerves in my shoulders are being pinched. After a time I learned to welcome this as a good sign.

Alone save an impatient office worker atop the river ferry I look out at the five tall cranes that service a dry-dock shipyard. If I were any wetter I'd be twins. If I were any more calmly content I'd be enlightened. I'm spent. The beauty that only comes with this physical exertion overtakes me and I turn to sit on a bench. Removing my glasses and pressing a hand towel to my face I sob hard four or five times, my torso jumping each time.

Thus finished, I replace my rain-dropped glasses and watch the water roll away beneath me.

Well, I got my phone...

2008-07-16T18:19:00.001-04:00

Well, I got my phone turn back on finally. This is only like the second call I've made with it since. I'll be calling my family soon. Just let those of them that read this blog know. Work is going pretty good, this is my last week of training so we've been taking call in all this week, haven't been doing too bad. I think I'm actually getting a hang of it so I feel pretty good so far. listen

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Chacha cha cha cha

2008-07-12T11:01:00.003-04:00

Don't you know I love you baby?

I survived the weekend, mostly unscathed. Only got rained on once or twice, only almost fell out of my chair once or twice (lack of sleep), only had to sneak my way onto the ferry once or twice.

My training is nearly complete at work. I just wrapped up a ton of classroom time and now I'm fairly confident in my abilities to answer a phone and document it. From what I can gather, I have another week of shadowing or something, and then it's full on worky jerky. I'm only resisting the inevitable a smidgen.

I've grown comfortable enough with the public transit system to have devised my own route. Every day this week my regular bus has had a full bike rack before even getting to my stop. Luckily I can wait thirty minutes and take the next bus and only be a few minutes late, but that won't fly after training is over. So I did a little research and discovered an alternative route through a different tunnel that yields on-timeyness. True, it involves two and a half more miles of cycling in the morning, but the bus was mostly empty and the rack certainly was.

I might have a fun video to upload later today. The front desk is empty, the gym is open, and I have a video camera. Stay tuned.

- David

Exhile

2008-07-09T16:07:00.004-04:00

Woo! This is my 500^th blog post!

Sorry I ain't been around more. Four weeks of finding a job and then two weeks before my first paycheck has taken it's disabling toll and now I have no phone and no Internet. Although for the time being I can still receive calls. Six days 'till payday! Hopefully that means six days until the restoration of my communication services. I'm lightly considering pilgrimages to the local coffee shoppe to partake of their Internet only.

Things have been okay. I'm trying to be a better Buddhist. What does that mean to a whitey in the big city? Reading my old teacher, mindfulness when I remember (ha!), and meditation on the bus. Apparently I'm full of bitter anger and despair. Who knew? Beneath this Peeps-ish exterior lies something not as sweet or fluffy. I'm working on it, it's a road not a destination, it's all in the process, etc, etc, ad naseum.

I finished The Road. It was awesome. Did I cry? Yes. Was it worth it? Fo sho. I highly recommend it.

Be safe, the weather seems weird all over.

- David

4th o' July

2008-07-04T11:59:00.002-04:00

Twitter and BrightKite are awesome free services where you can keep track of friends (like me!) as they run around doing whatever it is they do.

Have a safe Fourth!

- David

This is a test post...

2008-07-03T13:02:00.001-04:00

This is a test post from Jott. Calling it in on a cellphone so I don't know how it's going to look when it's posted, but I might be making posts like this regularly cause I don't have access to a computer like I used to where I can hop on the internet whenever I want. Let's see how this comes out. Take care. David. listen

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GOOOAAAAAL!

2008-06-27T09:05:00.003-04:00

This guy is awesome, and he has balls. Of both kind! I love the victory run he does. Maybe every time I successfully make the ferry on time or eat shit on my bike I'll do that run.

Today is Friday. My sleep schedule is fuuuucked. I've been so physically sleep-deprived lately that my body is sore. For some reason my brain, which usually gets tired first, is up and active but my body is the one protesting. Yesterday I accidentally took a nap on the couch for an hour and a half. That's bad when you get home around Six, sleep until almost Eight, and have to go to bed at Eleven. I think I fell asleep around One and had to get up at Five-thirty. Ugh.

I got up late but somehow made it to the bus on time showered, dressed, and packed up with My Girl Friday underneath me. Nothing wakes you up like a quick bike sprint twenty minutes after coming awake. It's probably an evolution thing. Anyways, I made it on time but the bus rack was already full. I'm glad the public buses have them, but two muh-fuckin' spots is not enough. And as gas prices rise it's only going to get harder to get a spot. Yesterday there was three people with bikes waiting for the same bus, and I had to do some serious covert hovering to make sure I got my spot.

So I waited for the next bus. If I'd been riding Jenny, I may have left her. Maybe. But My Girl Friday is too purdy and I would cry a little inside if something happened to her. I walked up and down the line of idling buses, asking each driver if they were going into Norfolk. No luck. Thirty minutes later the next bus came, and after sitting across from a girl obviously bound for an office job (that I swear was staring at me) I caught the next bus and settled in for a relaxing ride with Rilo Kiley. "Salute My Shorts" (the song, not the show) made me feel a lot better this morning.

I got stopped again at the gate this morning, and after pulling my bike up onto curb and producing some paperwork I was allowed into the base. The police officer advised I had to keep my helmet on at all times in the base and added amicably, "You're saving gas money... going green." I pulled a sweet one-handed wheelie off the curb and manualed all the way to the stop light. Actually, I battled with getting my pedal flipped over and my foot in the toe-clip. Damn things.

Training is back on, have a good weekend if we don't speak again.

Piece.

- David

Love/Hate

2008-06-25T13:36:00.002-04:00

I love Tom Waits. I hate that I won't be able to see him this time around. Anyone have some quick money they can float me?

Tom Waits is my religion.

- David

Watch the whole thing, the end is great.

Pussin' Out

2008-06-23T21:47:00.002-04:00

Macaframa from MACAFRAMA on Vimeo
Seriously. Today I was pitiful on a bicycle. Unlike any of the fine peeps you see in Macaframa videos.

Perhaps my suckiness was due to getting up ass-balls early, or the lack of any water for the entire day. Bad diet? Poor constitution? The heat? It doesn't really matter. In the end, it was just plain horrible.

Hampton Blvd suuucks for bike traffic. But unfortunately I have to take it for a few miles on the way home for work. It's an unsafe road, especially during traffic. And I'm used to traveling along Virginia Beach Blvd! But in the week I've been taking Hampton I've had more angry buzz-bys than in months of my old commute.

So I've opted for a kind of shortcut. I catch the bus for a few miles until I can get on the calmer, gentler Colley Ave and then bike from there. I could argue that I'm being safer, but a small part of me feels like I'm copping out. Whatever. It makes my commute more enjoyable.

Anyways, today I missed the bus by forty seconds. As far as this little piggy can tell they come every thirty minutes. I couldn't decide if I wanted to wait until 5:15-ish (traffic was looking really backed up, which is also why I was late) or just suck it up and bike it. I reluctantly decided just to pedal home, not wanting to get home super late. Also, I was antsy and didn't want to stand around in the heat.

Head wind + three lanes + full traffic + angry commuters = So Not Fun. I can taste the exhaust most days. A few miles in I pulled into a parking lot and decided to just wait for the bus. I was cranky and didn't feel like dealing with people's roadrage bullshit.

While I was waiting and staring disdainfully at the constant stream of traffic, what did I spy coming down the lane but a thick woman on a bicycle. "Motherfuck," I thought. There I was admitting defeat when this lady on a commuter with panniers, biker shorts, and a bright green jersey is sticking it out like a pro. Sigh.

So I manned up and got behind her. I think she was probably a little put off by this kid on a fixed gear following her for about six miles. And not only that! After a few miles I tried to get in front of her to take my turn blocking the wind (in the industry we refer to this as "pulling") but she either didn't want to keep up or misunderstood my intentions.

I get a good distance between us as I (attempt) to sprint up the bridge and then the fabulous traffic on Hampton decided not to let me get into the left lane so I can get into calmer seas. Fack. I take the next right off of Hampton so that I can catch a light or something and navigate a break in the traffic to get to my road. But wait! There's a god damned grass median in the way! Lordy.

After sprinting through a short hole in the line of motor vehicles barreling across my path I hop onto the median and wait for another hole in which to complete my maneuvers. And here comes my friend again! In the correct lane! Hitting the green light perfectly! Smooth as butter. Siiiiigh. Now I'm in behind her again, trying to keep a respectable distance but still use the power of numbers to keep traffic at bay. One cyclist: Angry, disrespectful drivers. Two or more: At least a safe distance.

Finally our paths separated and I yelled a friendly goodbye to try and show her I wasn't a freak. She seemed to understand, at least enough to smile and say goodbye back. Then I navigated my inefficient path through Ghent and finally home. Hot, sweaty, and annoyed. Probably one of the worst commutes I have in memory.

But still, I wouldn't give it up for anything. Tomorrow will be better. Oh yes. Tomorrow will be better.

Rant over.

- David

Car-ectomy

2008-06-22T12:33:00.003-04:00

This morning a guy named Loren who works for my dad took off for Idaho in Misti, the truck I've had for about three years.

She's a good truck; I just haven't been able to afford her for some time. She's going off to my dad's farm where she'll probably work harder but get better care. I'm slightly terrible at taking care of vehicles.

It's kind of like I had this pet elephant. Or perhaps a donkey. Yeah, pet donkey is better. She was handy, and a good worker. I'll miss her a little, but I'm not sad she's gone. I just wish it would have happened under different (less damaging) circumstances.

Anywho. Kasey's dad was able to come through in a pinch and get her car all fixed up and street legal for us (thanks Kenny!) so as a couple we possess internal combustion, but as an individual the only transportation I possess comes from chains, gears, thighs and calves. Vroom vroom.

Speaking of trans-poor-tation, I've been taking the bus in the morning to my new job at the naval base. Getting up at 5:30 in the morning? Shitty. The bus ride itself into work? Pretty nice, actually. I listen to music, I sit in a clean, air-conditioned bus and relax for an hour before a short mile or so bike ride into the base and to the building I work in. Then after work I change and bike the 8.5 miles back home so I can still keep my girlish figure. If I can get access to a shower on the base, I'll bike in as well.

For the next three weeks I'm in training from 8:00am to 4:30pm, then I get my real shift. I'm hoping for something good. It's always a worry when your department works 24/7. A night shift can jumble up your whole life, and being on the opposite schedule as 99% of the world is very strange. Although it can be fun. For a while. I think four ten-hour shifts would be pretty sweet. Here's hoping.

Welp, it's gym time. And then shower. And then errands, and then, who knows? Have a good Sunday.

- David

I'm alive, just not in

2008-06-20T09:50:00.001-04:00

I'm alive, just not in front of a computer I can blog from all day long.

New job seems fine, pending a few concerns. More later.

- David