Monday, February 28, 2011

102 Miles? Here's A Bed Sheet!

About two weeks ago, Lance Armstrong (name has been changed to protect the privacy of my husband), Alberto Contador (name has been changed to protect the privacy of my brother in law) and me (no name change necessary) decided to head down to Palm Springs and ride in a small century. To be honest, I wasn't a huge fan of the race. Why? Well, one, the first ten minutes of the ride consisted of pushing my bike with one foot through a series of stop signs and biker congestion. Had I known that the race was actually going to be a scooter event I would have brought my trusty Razor. Two, the first feeding zone, which mind you is quite important, looked like a refuge camp during World War II. Honestly, picture open trucks of supplies, workers throwing water and food at a tired crowd of people and men with no legs crying for their mothers. (Okay, that last part was sort of an exaggeration.)

Anyway, after grabbing some M&M's and glucose water, Lance, Alberto and myself decided to pick up our bikes, trek through a field of sand, cactus and grown men going to the bathroom in order to get out of the mess of people. I will say, once we escaped the war zone the race actually opened up and I became a fan. Oh but wait, there's one more complaint - aren't I just a crabby old woman? I would say my last criticism is a toss up between the ridiculous amounts of lights we had to stop at (did no one mention to Palm Springs that a race would be taking place in their city?) or the fact that when I crossed the finish line I was offered a XL t-shirt. Really, I just rode 102 miles and you are giving me a bed sheet? Why not punch me in the quad and say, "Congratulations!"

Okay, I'll stop. It was actually an awesome day and here's the pictures to prove it.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

My Testimony

Two weeks ago, the man and I went down to our garage and found our bikes had been stolen. Words cannot sufficiently or accurately describe the anger I felt. One, who goes into a locked garage and steals bikes? Does this person also kick old ladies in the hips and steal their dentures? Two, why did they have to steal my bike? I mean, I actually use my bike every day. Why couldn't they steal the motorcycle that causes my apartment to vibrate every time the moron decides to go for a morning ride on Saturday? Or how about the three SURF boards that were still sitting there just mocking my bike's absence? How come my thieves had to have such discriminating taste?

So, let me just say, to all the thieves out there. You know who you are. You are the ones that broke into my car in high school and stole my sister's Oakley sunglasses. It was 1999 - do you have any idea how cool my sister was with OAKLEY Sunglasses?!! Do you know that you not only robbed me, but her of sheer coolness. And to you, the punk in college who stole the jacket I stole from my sister, who stole from some chick in high school, who probably paid good money for it - you are a terrible person. And to the jerks who broke into my roommate's car twice. Yeah, twice. Lay off the Honda civic and the idiots who constructed those easily popped locks. And to the little a-holes who shattered my man's car only to steal my 2003 Ipod and some CDs - we hope you have gotten into a terrible accident.

So, to all of you who think it's cool to steal things let me just say - there is truly, truly a special place in hell prepared for you. I know and hope this with every fiber of my being.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Act Natural

I know, this will come as a shock to some of you (my husband included) but I don't have the greatest "inside voice." Somewhere and somehow, I convinced myself, that if you talked at a normal octave about the person right next to you they wouldn't suspect you were talking about them. I mean, who talks about someone while they are sitting right next to you? I know, this sounds like a ridiculous statement, but the key is to not point, not look in their direction and not lower your voice. Any of these missteps can instantly turn a nice dinner observation or a friendly talk with a friend into a rather nasty situation.

Might I also add that when you talk about someone keep them at least in your peripheral vision. Turning your back or a quick corner can lead to a disastrous outcome. For example, today a customer of mine decided to bring over his check to me while I was putting in an order at the computer. For some reason, he decided, as he dropped the check next to me, to make a loud kissing noise in my ear. Immediately, I thought it was one of my co-workers messing around and I said, "Thanks doll." However, as I turned around to see my co-worker, all I saw was a strange looking Asian man sipping his coffee. Now, I'll admit I was slightly rattled from his "sign of affection?" but that is no excuse for breaking one of my cardinal rules. After about ten seconds of thinking about his ridiculous smacking lips, I said out loud to my co-worker, "The strangest thing just happened to me. Some idiot brought over his check and made this disgusting kissing noise in my ear." And then the mistake. My co-worker asked, "Which one?" and I said, while turning, "He's this creepy Asian..." and there he was...right behind me.

So remember friends: act natural, keep them always in your sights, don't point and judge away.