one bike short of a biker

New York City is in my near future so I'm trying to prepare. Apparently the trusty Sunfire won't be making the trip, so I'm looking to invest in a decent road bike. At first I wanted to get a hybrid bike because I want something that's fast, but I hate road bike handle bars- it's so uncomfortable, and I feel much less stable, but maybe that's just because I've been mountain biking for years and years and years and years, and it's hard to imagine a serious bike with such an unfamiliar posture. However, I've been informed that hybrids are kind of the worst of both worlds- not that fast, generally kind of heavy, and really not that versatile at all... but at least I'd have the handle bars I like. There is one commuter bike I have my eyes on that I really like the looks of, even though it's a little bit more expensive than I'd hoped; the Scattante Roma. When I first saw it a few weeks ago back at Performance Bikes in Atlanta it really caught my eye, but now that I'm seriously starting to look around for a bike for myself it seems to have become the standard against which all other potential bikes are measured. It has a sleek frame, high handle bars, quality gear components, and it even comes with a rack preattached to the seat- how ideal.

Anyhoo, I have a birthday coming up, so maybe I'll have some birthday cash to put toward it. I was really hoping to find a cheaper one or a used bike that was decent because this really isn't a want, it's more of a need. I WANT to take the car, but since I can't, I NEED a bike. (I really dislike roadbiking). Peter and Jamie have both really gotten into roadbiking lately, and I'm nothing if not a band wagon jumper on-er, so maybe I can learn to like it. At the very least I foresee it being a very handy way of getting around the city.

From snozberries to the USMLE

The past four days have been insane!

I spent Friday night with my sis Jamie in my favorite city within the continental United States, Athens. It was my first sleepover (sans males) in a looooooooooong time. I think the event can be summed up accurately with one word.

Snozberries.

You'd have to visit The Winery in downtown Athens to fully understand what I'm talking about. The most notable player of the event was the insanely persistent overweight Asian man who, after being told twice that we (none of us) were interested in dancing with him, proceeded to come back in an almost Night at The Roxbury style, not once, but two more times. At first I was really polite, just dancing with the girls, "not interested, thank you" but later it started getting ridiculous and became more like, "NOT INTERESTED!!!!!". Like a goldfish who runs into the side of the glass bowl, forgets five seconds later, and runs into it again. Maybe he thought I was drunk, and would forget that I'd said no four times before.

Then, on Sunday, Peter and I loaded up the car and headed down to the worst smelling city I've ever been in, Augusta. Paper mills...blech. It smells so bad, and it's like once the smell is in your nose you can't get it out. We drove a good bit out of our way to find a hotel that was outside the stink cloud that engulfs most of the city. But the smell is beside the point... the whole point of the trip was (drum roll, please) Peter's United States Medical Licencing Exam. That's right folks- it's finally over. I've been praying like crazy that he gets a good score on this. His entire career is dependant on this one exam... seriously. We should know in a couple weeks how he did... till then it's just pins and needles and really focused prayer. It's rare that I ask for particular things in prayer... it's usually just praise, guidance, blessings, safety, etc., but these days it's specific and focused, and even more constant than usual. Peter has worked so hard- the past few years have been extremely difficult for him. I really want this to work out for him.

seriously serious

I woke up bright and early this morning so I could go to the house where my dad's parents used to live and helped clean up the blackberry brambles that had taken over the back yard. I haven't been there in years. After my grandma died it was hard to go there. You could fill it up with people, but without her it always seemed kind of empty. My Grandpa rented the property, after he moved out and remarried, but the renters were horrible- they actually tried to bury their garbage in the backyard instead of hauling it to the dump. among other things. So weird.

Anyhow, after the work was done I wanted to take a look around the place I had spent so much of my childhood.

It was hard to believe that it was the same place. Aside from all the damage the renters had done, everything was still in the same position. I remembered weekends sleeping in the living room in a sleeping bag next to my cousin and sister, but how did we fit? The space seems so small now. The windows were curtainless but didn't let in the sunlight that used to fill the living room. Even though we're constantly changing I think we expect things we leave behind to stay the same. I think today was just the culmination and realization of a feeling I've had ever since I got back- it's true- you can NOT go home again. The second you leave it's no longer home. When I think about the journey between where I was in the place that I was remembering and where I am now, the road seems incalculably long. I guess it's unfair for me to expect things to remain constant, when I myself have changed in every way.

A couple weeks ago I was contemplating the choices which brought me to where I am. It's like we create our own butterfly effect within our lives; decisions I made in high school that seemed fairly minute and unimportant turned out to have a life-altering effect, whereas things I thought would be life or death turned out to be not so important. For example I can look back now and see that a football game in 7th grade has had much more of an impact on my current life than my S.A.T. score ever did.

I guess what I'm trying to take from all this is that I ought to live more intentionally. It's impossible to say what small thing could determine tremendous future events, so it's important to take every decision seriously, even small ones.

Anyhoo, after I spent the morning wrestling blackberries and strolling down memory lane I went to the library and checked out some more books. I want to learn more about business, so I am going to take the next few weeks to read every book I can get my hands on. I've always found that when it came down to it, I could teach myself things just as easily as I could learn them in a classroom. First read: I picked Small Business for Dummies, because you have to start somewhere, so why not start with "small business... and I'm a dummy :)

recycle.able.

I was going through some of my old junk in my mom's basement the other day, and I came across an old box of clothes from my childhood that I always loved too much to throw out, but no one NO ONE would ever wear, so I've decided I need to craft some softish things. I went to the library and got a couple books of ideas. I haven't sewn in a while so I thought it would be good to have a look at some basic patterns before I dive in to my pile of fabric with some scissors. I like some of the basic patterns, but I'll have to crazy them up some.

Most of all, I like the thought of giving new life to loved things. It's like saying, "welcome back pink cardigan I ripped a hole in climbing a tree. Nice to see you purple flower print dress with ginormously puffy sleeves. I can't wait to see what you'll become."

He thinks his tractor is sexy.

I know part of it is because I've been "on island time" for the past few years, (meaning that nothing ever seems urgent, and deadlines are always vague or nonexistent) but the past month has seemed absolutely breakneck. I foolishly signed up for 3 maymester clases, meaning 9 hours of class monday through friday with 6 or 7hours of homework on top of that. Insane... especially for a non-academic femme like me, but somehow I managed to cross the semester finish line with a 92, 94, and 87. So woot for school!
A little less woot for art. Not much of it has been made this month. Even less of it has been sold :(
After my whirlwind of education I spent a few days at my Grandma's House in Dawsonville Georgia- a totally backwoods backwards place where many of the residents seem to be unsure of whether the civil war ended and if so, who won. I love it though. I also love helping out with Vacation Bible School at the church I grew up in. When I wasn't doing Vacation Bible School, I painted her house to make it easier to sell. (Nothing fun, just a warm neutral almost yellow color... blah)> I think it's already starting to work though, because while I was still there with brushes and rollers loitering all over the place a guy stopped by. I had such a hard time keeping a straight face talking to this guy. He was the kind of person you really only ever meet in places like Dawsonville or maybe the backwoods of Canada idk. Anyway, he was like, "I got me a house in Roswell, but now they got these codes and they come and say I can't keep my tractor on my lawn no more, so I got to find me a house somewheres folks stay out of mine and my tractors' business." He asked if the rotting trailor on the edge of the property was included in the price and I was like, "it sure is!" and he was so psyched. He said it was "the perfect place to store all of my dead momma's stuff" I told him, "be careful- it's full of mice and sometimes snakes" (and various oddities that the childhood version of myself left behind). But he just pulled his pants up to his chest and trekked right in. He spent hours out in the hot mid day sun wandering around the property, so we think he's pretty interested. He's coming back next week with his son to get his opinion, so it may be him who really decides if he buys it or not.
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