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n. infantile pattern of suckle-swallow movement in which the tongue is placed between incisor teeth or between alveolar ridges during initial stage of swallowing (if persistent can lead to various dental abnormalities) v. [content removed due to Bush campaign to clean up the internet] n. act of nyah-nyah v. pursuing with relentless abandon the need to masticate and thrust the world into every bodily incarnation in order to transform it, via the act of salivation, into nutritive agency
Saturday, October 07, 2006
portals aligned to windtunnel strings to subatomic...
it's just that time of my life again.
You know how I know? Well, here's how I know:
1. I've got some really great titles.
2. I bought a bike Saturday, and she is Wonder Woman. You know, the amazon. Her major downside is that her seat was built out of cement and channeled into something the size of a vibrator but not nearly so much fun, but certainly as bruising, perhaps more. And so, for a couple of reasons I will add to shortly, I've decided to name my bike "Bruiser Bruiser the Battle Cruiser."
Bruiser is a backroads bike who's replacing the mountain bike I had stolen (from me) the first month I was here. I've managed to find Bruiser just in time for perhaps the last sun in Chicago until spring, and just to highlight this fact, I heard on the radio today that on Thursday the temp's not supposed to get out of the 30's. But right now: it's 70s and such. So, I bruised my thigh region today by roaming around on my new bike and thinking how it's so much a better investment in anger management than powder donuts with cherry filling. I love Bruiser and she loves me. At least, I think she loves me.
She flirted with me right away, and this is how I knew I had finally found that lasting relationship I've been wanting: real quicklike, Bruiser added to the statistical data indicating I'm mostly attracted to bitches. Bruiser, within the first 10 minutes of our meeting, bucked me over my handlebars, thus damaging my paw-pads (shown in the pictures right and above).
Yeah. She loves me.
But going on into the whole predictable, "but I deserved it" bent, I have to point out that it was my fault. A friend who-shall-not-be-named suggested Friday that when I went go to Working Bikes to get my refurbished babe, I should not only get there at noon on the nose, but also check the brakes, "since they don't always work in mint condition." So, I checked the brakes.
They work. (Especially the front one).
I love Bruiser. I am convinced that merely loving Bruiser in the soon-to-come 30 degree weather will somehow fill me with great happiness and a sense of achievement. She completes me. Makes me whole. I know a few girls actually who have a club called the "Bruiser Bruiser the Battle Cruiser Makes Me Wet Club." Me too. (oy).
And I'm not lying about this: I biked around very happy today and felt confident of my brakes, and less confident of my skill, and yes that seat hurts, but that bike rocks.
Then, because it is one of those days like I said before: the cap I have on one of my front teeth (5th-grade soccer on cement) fell off in fear of Bruiser and the approaching alley. Which in the past has made me look so much like a hillbillneck that I've made sonic booms on my way to the dentist. But it's the weekend, and I guess I'm going to have to wait. I should mention that it looks worse than the photo might give you the impression of. Much worse.
3. And a line here or there that rocks out.
4. I am addicted to sudoku, House, and many many other things. Sigh.
5. I'm not in my teaching panic failure mode any longer. I spent quite a bit of time and rearranged a few parts of my syllabus and approach, and am now taking the time for more conversation and articulating more about essay-writing in worksheets instead of lecture. I think it'll smooth out for awhile, and then we'll see.
6. Leaves turning, moon fool, sore ass.