high and dry

I have the worst luck in the world. I will manage to leave just when it starts to pour and arrive at my destination as it starts to clear up, usually end up with the worst exam schedule on the face of the planet, and will consistently get thrown under the bus for things I have absolutely nothing to do with.
Yeah, it's totally awesome.
The most recent episode of incredibly shitty luck involved an incident which occurred on a weekend I was away. That's right; I was about 200 miles away from Boston and somehow the whole thing twisted around to bite me - a completely uninvolved, neutral party - in the ass. The pressure of throwing around the unpinned hand grenade that is my law journal only exacerbated things. And given the luxury of a warning this time around, I was bracing myself for the damn thing to explode in my face.

Surprisingly, it didn't. Which is a good thing, if only for the fact that I can continue to keep my bike in our law journal lounge.
But of course, the weather never wanted to stop screwing with me. Clad in underarmour, wool socks, and a raincoat, I left my apartment yesterday in legitimate rain. Water found its way between the vents of my helmet, soaked the Mengoni hat I'm ridiculously proud of, and dripped down the back of my neck. Drops of rain clung to my socks and seeped into my Sidis while gloves got soaked. And just when I rolled up to the front of the law school, the sun peeked out. The rain stopped. I was still drenched. Awesome.

I secretly hoped that it would rain more later in the afternoon, mostly because I brought my raincoat. I felt more and more cheated as the sun shone increasingly brightly outside, and save for a 5 minute downpour that I gleefully watched and took pictures of, the rain vanished.
The road was mostly dry by the time I got home.

Just my luck that, when sticky social situations seem to be easing up a bit, the weather manages to royally fuck me. Actually, it didn't fuck me, it essentially built up some hype and left me high and dry, so to speak. Which feels somehow worse.
And yes, those are going to be famous last words.

storming through

There were some crazy thunderstorms this morning. Like the kind where lightning flashes blindingly bright followed by a shaking crash of thunder and you wonder if the world is ending.
It's funny how the weather reflects your mood sometimes.
Although the thunderstorm this morning is more reflective of yesterday where everything seemed to go wrong. I locked myself out of my apartment by accident, headed to work late as a result, and battled two paragraphs of a gigantic appellate brief for...8 hours.

It was the first time I nearly cried at work. I know how cliche [and consequently, lame] that sounds. I managed to check the tears, but ended up spending three minutes [three whole minutes] with arms crossed, pouting furiously in the bathroom.
And when 5pm came around, I was completely worn down. But on the way home, someone drew up alongside me, and surprise, surprise, it was Mr. Croth. I hadn't seen him in forever, and chatting while riding with him [my first time, ever] definitely lightened my mood.

It was a hint of a much better end of the day that I was hesitant to anchor a definite hope on. But like the currently clear skies after the thunderstorm from hell, riding out to run some errands, I ran into two people who I only know through this blog [I ran into one twice!]. Which, of course, made me smile. And finally arriving home, I shrieked a little in joy when I found a slim package waiting for me, from Portland.
But that's for tomorrow. For now, I'm out to get coffee while the skies are still a little bit clear.

pedal, interrupted

Not enough sleep. Not enough motivation. My two persistent problems this week.
Last night I blocked off time slots for studying. 8am to noon on Saturday is for Con Law, Tax, and Evidence. 12.30 to 5pm for outlining, reviewing, etc., etc., etc. It felt organized and good; at least it looked good on Google calendar. The unorganized mess is actually executing said plan.
And said plan is already being derailed. I woke up this morning and couldn't wait until 4.30pm - because when it's this warm out, I'm definitely leaving the library early, taking the long way home, and stopping at a few bike shops along the way.

I even had a post planned - well, half planned - about how gorgeous it is outside today and the fact that my gigantor thighs are no longer wrapped in Underarmour. I was then going to go on and say boring and mundane things about spring and how everyone should go out there and ride their bikes. Yeah, notice how I said "half planned." I am emphasizing the "half" here.
So with this weakly formulated post, I figured I'll try to boost interesting-ness with good pictures. Something nature-y, so people see that Boston actually has seasons other than "bitterly cold winters." Something that doesn't consist of the shots of Comm Ave that I love to take. Somethi-

W. T. F.
I screeched to a halt, just managing to wrench a foot out of my clips as I fumbled for the camera conveniently nestled in my pocket. With one foot still clipped in, I hopped/dragged my bike closer, zooming in on the turkey that decided to show up in the bougie streets of Newton. Seriously? I mean, I know this happens, but it's 8.30am and this is Comm Ave...! I almost reached out to tug the sleeve of an invisible friend and finding none, was left to sort of look around in amazement.
So, yes, I saw a wild turkey this morning. That means that, at the very least, it's going to be a good day [but with bike shops involved, how could it not be?]. It also means that everyone racing Battenkill tomorrow is going to have an awesomely good time.
Good luck, guys - I'll be there in spirit, eating a turkey drumstick!

perfectly dreary

Spring might have finally arrived in Boston; and I, always fashionably late, am just trying to start this whole "training" thing.
It's probably sort of misguided, having only 1.5 bikes, both being fixed. There's really no way I'm going to be able to keep up with anything with gears. But, I figure, I might as well try.
So I'm adding a few miles here and there, sprinting as hard as I can for as long as I can [or until cars and potholes force me to slow down], and trying to perfect the Lance Armstrong method of climbing mountains/owning everyone around me. All mostly because the thought of seeing two friends from school all kitted out is way too good to pass up. And if I'm going to get any pictures of them while they ride, I better be able to keep up.

Of course this means that I've been forgetting to take decent/good/interesting pictures these days. I'm blaming the weather for today - it's dreary out with light rain showers sprinkled throughout the day. That's not conducive to picture-taking.
Still, any window these days is distracting enough that I'm choosing to study in the dank darkness of the library basement. It might be dreary out, but it's perfect weather for riding. Warm enough to make me feel guilty about not riding enough, and just the right amount of cool wind to keep me from being a sloppy, sweaty mess by the end of my ride.
Man, I can't wait to get back on the bike today...!

bend over

My finals are going to kill me.
There, I said it. No more deluded denial. It's now published and therefore a reality I'm going to have to face. Never mind that they're in May, but 4 law exams nearly back to back...that's sort of like having your brain put through a blender while you simultaneously get raped by an elephant.
When we got on the topic of finals, and it finally started to sink in how much my finals were going to fuck with my life, a friend gave me a sage bit of advice:
"Bend over."

At this point, that's pretty much all I can do. And I have been...just not at the library [yet]. With spring finally making its way to Boston, I've been bent over my bike, chin nearly touching my handlebars, and pumping my legs like my life depends on it, while my inner Rahm Emanuel screams in my ear [the infamous], "Don't fuck this up!!!"

Yeah I should be applying this mentality to my classes, books, outlines, briefs, whatever. Yeah I should just start sleeping in the library. Yeah I should work more efficiently.
But honestly, who gives a shit when it's this nice out?
[Happy St. Patty's Day to everyone!]

red light means go

A predicted high of 45F today - yay for warm weather!
Yeah, I never thought I'd think 45F = "warm" but I'm so ready to peel off my Underarmour and fold it away until November. Snow isn't even pretty anymore, just slightly annoying. The gross brown heaps that it eventually turns into [and then gross brown water that cars like to splatter at me] doesn't really help make Boston winters any more appealing.
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for deferred gratification...just only when it applies to a goal that I can actually see. Desperately hoping for nicer weather that doesn't involve shards of ice flying in my face, enough layers to make me feel like I'm in a fat suit, and that embarrassing fogging up of my glasses whenever I enter a warmer room...is getting old.

I'm trying to be optimistic though; and even with all the snow yesterday, by early evening it was clear out. The lights strung up on the trees along Comm Ave were cute and pretty enough for even my beer soaked self to appreciate. I didn't get a picture though [I know, I really should have!], probably because I had no idea what I was doing at that point.
I ended up praying for a red light on my way home, hoping for an excuse to stop. I only hit one, and by the time I stumbled into my apartment, my face looked like a tiki torch.
I think I might have to train a little more for the beers + bikes shenanigans I'm mentally planning for the summer...