tessie

Every Bostonian that reads this blog will probably understand the title reference. Or they should, if they consider themselves true Bostonians. Especially when it's coupled with this:

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Yeah I know, I said I wouldn't make another one. But I owe Jeremy this kind of maddening, eye-straining, muffled-scream inducing embroidery work, mostly because my bike almost bit off his finger a few weeks ago.
Okay, so it didn't cut it off [it resulted in a puncture-wound-plus-laceration combo, according to Jeremy], but it still weighed on my conscience. I mean, he could have lost his finger over my bike. A bike that, despite how much I love it, really isn't worthy of fingers!

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As I blinked and gaped in shock, Jeremy actually smiled and wished me a good afternoon if he didn't see me before I left as he stepped outside for a few minutes. Everyone else just went about their business. I felt like I was taking crazy pills...!
When he came back:
Chris: How deep did it go in?
Jeremy: Only a few millimeters.
Chris: That's what she said.
...Boys [especially in bike shops] will be boys.
Note: The Heartbreaker contest is still going on until the end of the week!

bosox fever

Good thing I'm not a Bosox fan.
I'm not sure I can take the intensity of it all; and despite the fact that I barely manage to get dressed every day (i.e., that I've completely let myself go), I can't/won't wear the Bosox hat and t-shirt combo. Particularly if the former is pink.
I know that sounds hypocritical, almost. Like I'll unashamedly get every pink component I can get my hands on for my bike but I refuse to wear that particular color. But the pink Bosox hat is peculiar - it's like dressing up a butchy lesbian to hide the obvious from the relatives: It doesn't make anything more "feminine" and it just smacks of [imposed] traditional gender norms/roles.
Besides, I'm not obsessed with the Sox enough to rock any Bosox attire. And a friend should be very glad I'm not.

Otherwise, I would be keeping this, instead of handing it over to one of my first bike friends. And while the hat gave me enough grief to qualify for "I would only do this for a friend I really really really value" type work (and it's definitely on the list of "things I don't think I really want to do, again"), I can rest assured that it's going to be loved (and worn). Enjoy the hat, E!