the good, the bad, and the horrific

the good: i’m bike riding. i’ve gone on two rides. pretty decent rides, too. i like biking and swimming as forms of exercise, and i’m really happy about the biking. i can tell i get all out of breath and stuff, but that’s the point! hopefully, as i get more stamina, i will go longer and further. but last night, i rode for an hour, so that’s cool. i probably would get less out of breath if i weren’t singing to the music i was listening to. riding at night is awesome, though. silent, sleepy streets with no one on them. i was sort of not being too cool last night, because i don’t have a light and i currently don’t have a helmet. last time i had a bike, i had decked it out: light, odometer, bell, rack, mirror, kickstand, etc. i wasn’t helmeted, but i had all the bells and whistles. the first time i had a bike, i wore a helmet. now, i’m going to get a helmet again. i’ve heard about way too many crazy-ass accidents where people get majorly injured. and i’ve seen these super cool helmets with little visors on them. tres cute. biking good. plus, i really feel like i’m getting somewhere/doing something. literally.

the bad: i was in denver recently, and my friend sent a car to pick me up (v. cool, he said that he recently had kofi annan in the car), and while driving home i saw these big fences. i thought, “these are to trap tumbleweeds.” and i asked, “do you have tumbleweeds in denver?” and they (he had the woman with him who was there to hold up the sign that had my name on it) said, “yes.” GASP! oh no. my mortal enemy. i told them of my fear, and predictably, they sort of laughed. whatevah. i know their evil powers. but they told me the fences were for snow. oh. still. i was glad they were there to stop any errant tumbleweeds. gah.

the horrific: cicadas. people are obsessed with them, and some to intriguing levels. that is, they aren’t afraid, they are eager to see them come. what? aaaaah. we talk about them quite a bit over at chicagoist, and i am so scared. i fear i’m going to spend the bulk of summer wearing my 14-hole doc martens and carrying an umbrella. blah. i’m somewhat in denial, saying “they won’t come to the city, they won’t come to the city.” but my neighborhood has PLENTY of trees, yo. plenty. sigh.

tumbleweed on a bench by nogwater
adult cicada with wing by happy monkey

****dude. do you see the scale of that fucking tumbleweed that person took a picture of? see?!? and people wonder why i’m afraid of them. and do i even have to TALK about the cicada? where in the fuck is hilary swank, people?

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