Hells' Awaitin'

What will send you to hell faster?
A. Wearing a thong to a church.
B. Saying ‘shit’ in church.

M…I think you better get packed potty mouth!
I guess, logically, you could debate both sided of this issue, and be very committed to your stance on which might be more damning, but consider these facts before deciding.
No one knew about the thong.
Everyone heard you say shit.
‘nuff said?
Perhaps to play it safe, we should both stay completely away from Holy ground. At least till we’ve read the Ten Commandments on church etiquette…there must be a book on that right? You would think?
And for those of you who think M and I went there to be ‘saved’
You do know better than that …don’t you?
There is little hope for us, we know that.
We are still on what seems like a never-ending quest to find a home for our guild. Our homeless guild. Our very talented, yet homeless guild.
And lately, it’s been taking us to churches.
Maybe God is sending us a message?
He sure is teaching us how to handle rejection well. Altho, one might argue…it is not Him rejecting us…it’s His people.
We got people too.
One wears a thong…and the other says ‘shit’ in church.
I still think the fire’s gonna be alittle hotter under your ass M.
It’s much cooler in a thong.

She says…come see this…you wantta see what a dead cricket looks like?
NO!
And as I am backing towards the door…she decides she’ll stroll over…to save me the trip I guess…so I can get a good look, at this long-dead… decayed…giant …gross cricket. Thanks M.
And then she finds a big ass spider…must be a black widow she says. I caution her that if she comes near me with it…she will be workin’ alone the rest of the day.
What was she thinking!
If there is anything that can make me scream like a girl…it’s a bug. I know I am a girl…but I’m not 5…which is exactly how old I appear at the sight of a bug. It ain’t pretty.
Truth be told. It’s pathetic.
But it is what it is.
It is also one aspect of biking that I had not for a moment considered. I bike in the wood.
Bugs live in the woods. Lots of bugs. And it turns out….many other kinds of creatures.
It has been interesting to say the least.
With the big storm that blew thru last week, my bike paths were left in a disaster, trees blown down across them in a dozen spots. I have been force to climb over, duck under or detour around them. And silly me…I am not thinking what will happen should the rest of this tree let go while I am under it….or what if that one lets go while I am precariously balanced on it…with my bike in tow…not thinking of that at all. I am too busy thinking how many bugs there must be on that thing…and how many of them are going to end up crawling on me. Far more dire a situation than having a tree fall on your head.
See…told ya it’s pathetic.
And the snake grass I detour through….OMG I even hold my breath and shut my eyes…cuz that will help ya know... being short of oxygen and unable to see where I am going…big help…yup…can you say LOSER!
I really don’t know if there are snakes in there…have not seen one, not likely I will with my eyes shut tho is it. Snakes are right up there with bugs for me. If one ever wraps itself around my leg…I’ll rip it off with my bare hands…the leg that is…not touchin’ the snake.
I am reminded daily that I SHOULD be afraid of the fact I bike alone in remote areas.
Maybe. But the bugs still scare me more.
And I SHOULD be afraid of the other ….not so docile wild life I meet on my way...like the fox and the deer.
Maybe. But the bugs still scare me more.
And I SHOULD DEFINITELY be afraid of the potentially ferocious Bare-Assed White Man who lurks in the woods.
Maybe. Yet…the bugs STILL scare me more!
I am way too focused on what could possibly end up landing or crawling on me to worry about a rabid fox or an angry mother deer or even a freakin’ Bare-Assed White Man.
I’m not right in the head am I?
I have no idea why I am so phobic. My mother wonders who’s child I really am.
This is a woman who, should she find a wayward bug in the house, picks it up and carries it back to the wilds….and I have seen her squish an earwig with her bare hands. Bare hands people…no gloves…no big stick, no Raid can… notta! On a good day…when I’m a real spitfire…I’ll throw a shoe across the room (not MY shoe of course) at a bug and hope to kill…or I will successfully stifle the urge to have a complete mental breakdown …even if, in truth, I’m sceamin’ like a banshee inside and then… congratulate myself on my bravery. Hello! No need for therapy here is there?
Pathetic!
And for those of you who think I have just given you the perfect ammo with which to torment me. Don’t go there.
Remember…I ain’t right in the head.
I’ll plead insanity
Trust me…they’ll belive!

Back In The Saddle

So, the biking thing is going well!
No spills…yet!
No crashes….yet!
No pulled or strained anything…yet!
Unless you count the very spot, down there, where the body meets the bike seat…I’ll admit….that’s been better!
I am so lovin’ being back on a bike!
And I broke down and got my own!
I gave B Boy back his bike last week…sorta at his insistence. While he never came right and said…”get off my damn bike”….he kept hinting it was time I got one of my own. And realizing how un-cool it must be in his eyes, to have his mother riding around on his bike…I bit. I traded the little orange number for a lime green one. Yep I got a thing about colour. It doesn’t scare me at all.
Back in The Day…I was an avid rider.

Never bothered to get a driver’s license, I had my bike. When I moved to the city, Calgary to be exact, I found it much easier to have a bike than a car. No parking hassles, no traffic jams, no expenses like gas or insurance…shit back then…we were not even bright enough to realize we needed helmets! I could go anywhere… at any time. I. Loved. It!
My Grandmother ended all that.
Ya know how…shall we say…older people… get things stuck in their craw? They get a thought or idea and be damned if you can shake it outta them.
She decided it was unsafe for a girl to be riding a bike in a busy city…all hours of the day…and what if you were run over….you live alone…who would know…if you were laying dead in the road… who would go to the morgue to claim you…and how would we get you back here to bury you…and you’re so young …and your life would be over cuz you were riding a damned stupid ten speed and you’re a girl….I insist on buying you a car.
It went on for months.
I got this same phone call …two…three times a week. I stopped answering.
She then assumed I was out riding the damned stupid ten speed some more.
So she started on my mother.
Who was soon begging and pleading with me to buy a car…before she lost her mind.
I so didn’t want one. I so didn’t!
For the sake of sanity, and the return of harmony to my family, I agreed to go look.
Be damned if the car lot wasn’t beside a motorcycle shop.
I found my ‘car’.
A Honda.
V-65 Magna to be exact.
I called my Mom to tell her it was that or nothing. She could decide…that or she listen to my Grandmother…it was my best offer. I held the phone as far from my ear as possible, I was sure there would be screaming.
Only silence.
Then I hear….”you must never tell your Grandmother it’s a motorcycle, You must tell her It’s a car…a Honda…she will think it’s a Civic.”
I said I couldn’t lie to my Grandmother.
She said “you can …and you will. She is an old woman…she doesn’t need to know this…I promise…I will worry enough for both of us.”
So the deed was done.
Not that easy.
My grandmother, of course, wanted to know what kind of ‘car’ I had chosen.
A Honda I told her.
Two door or four door she asked?
Two door I replied. (since in fact, you could get on it from the left side or the right side….that I reasoned, would qualify it as a two door.)
What colour is it she asked?
Black….all black.
And how much money do I need to send you she asked?
$6000.00 I said.
That was almost the deal breaker.
She decided it can’t be much of a car for just that little and probly no safer than my damned stupid ten speed and maybe I better keep looking.
UGH!
After much assurance that this was a perfectly good ‘Honda”…and I had had it checked out…blah blah blah….she relented.
And the deal was done. I agreed not to ride my damned stupid. ten speed in the city anymore.
That was the end of my biking days….on a damned stupid ten speed anyway. I used my ‘car’ for transportation after that.
I’ve missed those days and how!
I’m really happy to be back on a bike.
A damned stupid mountain bike.
And yes.
My Grandmother went to her grave thinking she had bought me a black, two - door Honda Civic.
My mother made me!

Au Contraire!

So I bet by now, you were thinkin’ the Ride killed me?
Au contraire my pretties!
Not only did we complete the 5K’s ...the original length this Ride was designed to be, we went one better…or actually about 8 better. This little band of Rag Tags complete a 13K ride.
And everybody lived!
It was a great day. And we’re very proud of ourselves! Too proud really.
We all arrived on time, which is a small miracle in itself, considering a couple of us have some serious ‘time’ issues, ( and while I could so rat you out here and now…I’ll save it…you can thank me later!) but for once, it seems everybody’s clock was in sync. We got our gear unloaded, helmets on, last minute wardrobe checks completed and 15 varieties of Lip Gloss packed….one must always be prepared….I’m told…but for what…I’m not sure?
We made our way to the starting point, towing our cheering section of ONE behind us. It seems M was the only one of the WHOLE ENTIRE STAFF OF JHS who could find the time to come and support us…even if all they had to do was sit on their sorry butts and looked like they gave a shit….apparently still too much for some! (And NO…I’m not the least bit bitter…nothing therapy won’t fix anyway.)
It turns out our first mistake was not to arrive with a Press photographer…it seems like everybody else had one, and I suddenly felt maybe Miss J had left something out. Was this a 5k Ride to Work Event…or something of much greater importance…like the Start of World Peace??? Why all the cameras? (Remember the lip gloss…and being prepared….I finally got it Miss J!) Not to be outdone at any rate…we quickly made M pull double duty…official Press Photographer for JHS AND cheering section. With her usual style and grace …she made the transition seamlessly. ( I am not entirely sure she is ready for her Very Official Press Photographers Pass yet, she appears to have this slight obsession with ass shots…but we’ll work on that!).
The plan was to enter the race at the back of the pack…but as usual luck for us Rag Tags…we unwittingly positioned ourselves so we would have to be out front. Now that was pressure! Much harder to dilly dally when there are 15 people waitin’ for you to move your ass. We let Mr. Computer Man lead…he was after all, the star of the team, if only because he can actually ride a bike and okay…so he’s in shape too…so what. Snow and I pulled in behind…and Miss J at the last…mostly I think to make sure Snow and I did not veer off into the woods…never to be found again.
Lovely trail it was too…apart from those annoying 90 degree turns around cement pillars on a three foot path with nothing but God to keep you from landing head first in the friggin’ river. Let’s just say…we were but mere inches away from a combo Ride to Work/Wet Tee Shirt Contest and you just know…I could never have won that!
It took like no time to do the 2.5K and reach the turn around point. Most of the team looked like they had pedaled for hours, this is councilors and and the like after all…and they specialize in sitting and bullshitting so…not shocking that this was probly their first foray into exercise world. I was however, quite impressed with the speed they generated on their hunt for snacks…which were apparently waiting for them there in the woods.
Then I heard it.
“Let’s keep going to the Lake” I heard. “It’s only about another kilometer away” I heard.
(Note to self: If Someone has serious ‘time’ issues…odds are they have serious‘distance’ issues as well).
The only ‘no’ I heard was the one screaming in my head.
So off we went…and went …and went….4K later….arriving at the lake.
I seriously think the girls should have taken me up my offer to throw Mr. Computer Man in the lake. Seriously. It is the least I coulda done. Seriously.
And the return trip…OMG. Someone turned up the wind to gale force…and apparently I suck as a wind break. We battled it the entire way back…and man those hills got a lot bigger than they were on the way down. Snow’s knee deserted her about half way back …and oh ya…half our team deserted Snow and I. Nice! Good thing we are not as directionally or time or distance challenged as some other people we know, we’d still be lost in the wilds of Oshawa.
But we made it. Much to the relieve of M, who had watch the original group return without us…fighting near hysterics when even the senior citizens came in with still no sign of us, and pacing frantically as she watched paramedics pull up and go down the path. She was sure we’d crashed landed into a big heap somewhere deep in the woods!
Au contraire M…we’re just over-achievers.,,,slow over-achievers.
And of course, we did what any good team of athletes would do after pouring their heart and souls into a morning of serious physical activity.
We found a good restaurant and ate like pigs.
Because we’re dedicated like that!