Wednesday, July 18, 2007
'cause you got strange powers...
Up there, that's the weather today. Doesn't look so menacing in thumbnail format, but it was downright hostile during the latter part of my a.m. run. Golly, w/ less than a mile to go, I figured I was good as homefree, no matter the rapidly darkening conditions overhead. But hey, what fun would that've been? So yeah: crack went the sky, down came the wet. The first 30 seconds: completely tolerable. Thereafter: Heavens to Betsy! I'm sure I've said it before, but I don't think I've ever run through this kind of wet. A solid sheet, it was. W/in a minute, my shorts were sticking to my legs like Fruit Roll-Up on plastic, my contacts swirling about my corneas like ships lost at sea, my ponytail whipping my cheek like a belt against an unruly child's bum. (Not a proponent!) Bedlam! Seriously, I couldn't see w/o shielding my eyes w/ both hands, and even then times were rough. I did get an offer for a ride home, which I promptly refused. ("Hardcore! You're the best!") Anyway, I was so close to home, and any opportunity at catastrophizing, I'm hard-pressed to turn down.
Speaking of running, it continues to go mighty well. The bouts are still very short, but I've been plugging along at sub-8:00 pace, which feels faaaantastic. I love flying down Third Ave., stride long, sun on my forehead, shoulders thrown back (forever working on the posture thing), while red brick buildings w/ faded lettering pass by on either side. I'm pretty into my street routes these days, favoring the clanking and rattling of auto shops and mattress factories, the shouts of Carhartt-clad workers, the smell of deli coffee and toasted bagels, to the rustling of trees in the park. Running in industrial settings makes me feel like I'm in on some secret, adding to the magic of the sport.
Mine mine mine! I cannot overstate the immensity of my latest crush. I'll never date again, 'cause w/ this hot little number around, who needs a heartbeat? Really though, so much fun, not sure why I waited so long...
He who has yet to be named (currently taking suggestions--must evoke images of manliness, brute strength, hardcore demeanor...) came into my life by accident, sorta. I was supposed to ride home a modest personality available via craigslist, but he (or she, considering the metallic purple frame) amounted to a sorry pile of garbage. Was it the rusted-over chain that would've cost me $70 to replace? The gears that stuck hard w/ each click? The inch-thick coating of dust that suggested several decades spent in retirement? Yeah. Said the owner of the bike shop located just down the street from this lady's Bay Ridge apartment (upon seeing the shop while trying out the bike, I hauled it in for a quick opinion): "Don't do it." I didn't--instead returning to said shop for a look around and, in the end, a crazy-good deal on the sweet piece of a*s you see above.
Since riding it home from the shop, I've taken it out twice, and I cannot believe how hooked I am. So far, I haven't fallen off, nor have I gotten run over.
Not cupcakes. Not a baking pan, but a roasting pan w/ corners snipped for maximum flattening effect. The dough itself was pretty conventional, save the inclusion of every kind of M&M found in a three-mile radius of my lair. Regular, peanut, peanut butter, dark chocolate, Reeses, almond, crispy, the color-themed ones associated w/ all the Pixar characters... I drew no lines. [Hmm. Vaguely reminiscient of another catch-all, albeit much zestier, concoction.] What a mistake this was. Upping the 'chips' quantity in order to accommodate everyone, I wound up w/ dough that transcended baking. I can only assume it was the candy-to-batter ratio that was wildly off. Especially problematic were those damn peanut bits--so plump they left nothing behind w/ which to lock them in place. In some instances, the things took up half an entire cookie! Hogs.
Basically, a failure.
T paid me a visit over the w/e. This is my block. We're eating lunch.
Coney! T & M.
I told them, warned them all. Imagine, then, my dismay when one of them held me accountable for his "stiff back," his "achy neck," his "feels like it's broken!" knee. Whatevs.
One trippy Ferris Wheel. The compartments not only turned circles and rocked back and forth, they scooted laterally. Didn't ride.
Someday I will caption this fully. For now I'll leave it at: wrong on so many levels.
Hello.
Bumper cars! We rode them twice--my first time behind the wheel in almost three years.
So close to swimming, but... nah.
In addition to that pictured above; a swing through one of several C.I. arcades (basketball! Let's Make a Deal!); a paralyzing stint at the Nathan's stand; and a troubling episode involving B's questionable humor, my cellphone battery, and a rather large gap in the promenade, there was a trip to the aquarium. Now, it was smooth sailing (sorry) as we oohed and ahhed over a pair of kissing gourami, a little clown fish batting at some anenome's tentacles, a frisky sea otter, rays--even a Japanese crab--larger than my apartment... But then the darkness set in. To illustrate, here's a rough transcription of a recent call I placed to the aquarium's P.R. department:
Me: Hi. I was at the aquarium yesterday, and some of your animals were looking pretty dead. Just thought I'd call...
He: Oh? Which ones are you referring to?
Me: Well, two in particular: an isopod [note: check out this big guy] and one of those gigantic sea turtles. The turtle was floating at the surface, never budged, all the others were kicking around all over the place... Then the isopod--you know, the cockroach-looking thing--he was flat on his back, legs up, also unmoving...
He: Really. Well I can guarantee that all of our animals are checked in on routinely--at least every couple of hours. If there's a problem, staff catches it quickly.
Me: Hmm.
He: And actually, I'm sure everything's fine. That turtle, I'm pretty sure I know the one you're talking about. She was a rescue--ran into a boat--and is probably around 80 years old. She just requires more air than the others, that's all.
Me: Hmm.
He: And the isopod--I'm sure that what happened was he climbed up the wall then fell, landing on his back. Those guys are really tough and can hang out in that position for some time. I'm sure it wasn't long before our staff came by and flipped him rightside up.
Me: Hmm. But no part of him was moving, and he looked shrivelled compared to the others.
He: Well, I can assure you, if there was a problem, it's been addressed by now.
And there ya have it.
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