I am so fucked.

Update: i'm so tired i could throw up.

This broken rib has led to a suddenly (often unbearable) awareness about the amount of laughing I do. I'm proud to conclude that for being such a grump, I lead a very happy life.

And I've got some pretty great company.

Best Friends:
bed snifters
binds fester
biters fends

Broken Rib:
biker born

Zeldabones:
blazed nose
sleaze bond

Thanks everyone.

I always have this fear when I'm doing non-bike things in my bike shoes that my cleats are going to cause me to slip in some way. Wet brick stairs? Marble corridor when I'm dripping wet? Descending a ladder? Climbing into a grainer?

Last night I was leaning over into a dumpster when, finally, it happened. My cleats slipped on some greasy nonsense, ( Read more... )

Last night she said "Come," and he drove through the night for her. They loaded the truck. They will drive safely to Ogden. He will take care of her.

I guess the Bucket will be different. And a lot more quiet.

When I'm really disappointed or unmotivated, I always look into the future for a sense of the Foreseeable Awesome. Sometimes that thing is irrelevant, like looking forward to your train coming when the hood you're staying in starts to feel too tough. Sometimes it's pertinent. Right now, it is both ( Read more... )

Feelings are still dumb.

Waking up to fog is a marvelous thing. I wonder why no one else wakes this early. Sometimes I imagine that fog is when millions of moths have exhaled their last dusty breaths or that perhaps this is what going blind is like. The process of going blind is the memory of softness, when only images in their most stripped down and essential state are ( Read more... )

I didn't not have fun last night playing bar games and stumbling about. I barely remember what happened during my solitary walk home except that I made a dumpster exit ("ah, man, i jumped, like, 20 feet") so gracelessly that I terrified someone coming out of 24hour Fitness. New friends are okay, I guess.

Not dissimilar to my dumpster exit, as I fell ( Read more... )

Yesterday my new roommate Amanda sat down at the table with her whozits when suddenly Dallin exclaimed, "Auww, gross!"

"What?" I asked, looking up from my shabangerang.

"You were just picking your nose!" Dallin accused, extending his arm and pointed finger at Amanda.

"I was not. I had an itch," a smaller defensive voice cried from my right.

"No, there ( Read more... )