embrocated guilt

I've been taking the long way home these days. From Newton up through Watertown, through Cambridge, Allston, then back to Brighton.
The route manages to pass by all my favorite bike shops too. When I dropped by Cambridge Bikes the other day - my future riding/training partner had promised to be there but had called in sick - Kip told me how he liked that I posted pictures of scenery and the outdoors.
Despite all the added mileage I've been doing, though, this week has been severely lacking in any pictures of the outdoors. It's a poor excuse, but going as fast as I can while dodging potholes and cars is making the whole "picture taking" thing sort of difficult. Add to that a hectic week at school and I've mostly been blogging off the weekend...for a week.
But never fear, I have my readers' best interests in mind! Because it would be downright criminal not to share this:

That's right. It's a Rapha-Indy Fab bike. Chris King headset and hubs. Pure deliciousness in bike form, it walked in with some choice members of the Embrocation Cycling Team this past weekend as I shamelessly stuffed my face full of cookies at IBC. As soon as the team parked their bikes, we gathered around them shamelessly, pointing, taking pictures, and ooh-ing and ahh-ing like a bunch of pimple-faced Star Wars nerds around the newest Princess Leia figurine.
Okay, we were a little more suave than that. I actually managed to form words when I spoke to the team, not that red faced googly-eyed stuttering I usually do...okay, there may have been some stuttering. But seriously, can you blame me? Do you have eyes? Can you see these bikes???
Jeremy of Embrocation Cycling Journal seemed to understand what I had to stutter out, and even gave me a tip to save the Embrocation poster hanging up at IBC. Using the ever-useful Facebook, I called dibs on the poster and asked friends who are real employees there to save it for me. And because they are all kinds of awesome, they obliged:

I'm still kicking myself for not making it out to the party [I'm really sorry, Jeremy!]. I blame my Constitutional Law reading: after two cases on partial birth abortions, my uterus decided to scream in terror and started spitting out chewed up placenta in protest. Yes, that's right, I just put that out on the Internet. I even bolded it. And yes, that is my lame excuse for not going to the Embrocation party.
But think of it this way. I'm confident that there will be many, many more Embrocation parties. And even if I can't keep my stuttering under control, I definitely plan on being there.

aftermath of an afterparty

I woke up uncharacteristically late this morning, half fully dressed.
I do remember what happened last night, despite the fact that I finished off a whole beer [even chugging the last quarter of it]. But that's mostly because I haven't really slept.
But sleep is for the weak when Cambridge Bikes puts on an alleycat and throws an after party at a super secret location, complete with free beers, boldsprints, and great company.

As usual, I didn't race, but cheering on friends while meeting new ones is always a good time. Add to that getting to see friends that I hadn't in a while, and I didn't really need that quickly-turning-warm-because-I've-been-nursing-it-for-over-an-hour PBR to get my fun on.

So much fun, in fact, that I chose to shirk my blog duties and didn't take many pictures. I even stumbled out of the party not even knowing who won my hat. Irresponsible, I know...but hey, Natalya will definitely be posting some amazing photos soon [I even got to take a picture with her super cool camera!]. In all, a successful party/race/start to the weekend.
Now if only this coffee stuff will actually start working and get my brain functioning again...
[Also, some more pictures up on Flickr]

longing for yesterday

Biking through snow today after a day in the high 50s, getting splattered by a good number of cars on my way in, with only the promise of [bad] coffee at the end of my commute to make me feel sort of better...I'm seriously missing yesterday.
It was my first semi-lazy Sunday in a while, where I got to blow off everything for at least half the day. I even managed to blow off my own plans! Lazy won out over Sense of Obligation to go to the Bike Swap and Not Be an Anti-Social Hermit, resulting in me not getting any farther than Cambridge Bikes. And staying there for...over three hours...

In my defense, a lot of things got in the way. First, I met the spectacular RMM. Then, we got on the subject of ice cream cakes. And as everyone knows, you cannot peace out on a conversation involving ice cream cakes. It's just not allowed.
Okay, said conversation also involved strip clubs, butt acne, and cookies. Which is, you know, enough to keep me interested...but combine that with shiny, pretty, [pink] bike things, and it's a wonder I wasn't blatantly drooling.

I did get close though. All this talk of Bartley's in Harvard Square [which I keep saying I'll go to but never do because Veggie Planet always seems to win out], and watching Tom devour a burger a friend of his brought for him actually had me craving cow meat [despite not having eaten red meat in ages]. Right now, the thought of ground-up, masticated cow on a bun has my stomach audibly growling in the library [and it's not even close to lunch time yet].
Maybe hanging out [for hours] at Cambridge Bikes is not such a great idea always a good idea.

unproductive

Reasons why I'm currently being spectacularly unproductive:
1. It's gorgeous out today. Like I was sweating when I got to the library. At 9am when it opened. Shoot me now.
2. Five hours of sleep. I'm blaming Cambridge Bike's hat from hell for this one.
3. The idea of working in on my legal note all day. And being unable to motivate myself to work any faster.

4. The realization that I shouldn't be in the library/working/stressing out this much when I'm supposed to be on spring break.
5. That voice in the back of my head that's telling me that I won't be able to blow off all of Sunday, and that I'll be racing to get everything done.
6. Shitty coffee.
7. Oh, yeah, and Facebook.
[Note: I am looking forward to the Bike Swap that's happening tomorrow though. If you're in the Boston area, come check it out!]

guilty panic

I'm currently on spring break...and there just aren't enough hours in the day to get everything done.
I have more than a few deadlines coming up, along with the list of things I should be doing [but am not], the things I have to do [which I'm scrambling to get done] and the things that I'm forcefully making time for [which I don't have to do per se but I need it to stay sane].
And I'm still feeling guilty. I woke up today with this to welcome me. More guilt. It's not finished yet [clearly].

Those four letters took a few good solid hours of straight work. I love the challenge, and anyone that can come up with an interesting, really complicated idea will always get my attention. The whole design for this hat - being made as a prize for the Freddy v. Jason alleycat sponsored by Cambridge Bikes next week - is going to be suh-weeeet.
I just need to get it done. Neurotic worry and guilt are fueling the too-late-night sessions that only end when I realize it's well past midnight and I need to be up and functioning in less than six hours. What can I say, I like to keep my promises. Or, more accurately, I abhor the idea of being considered flaky.
It's too early to worry about this already [hat work starts after dinner]. Still, I'm terrified that the rest of the hat's not going to work out, or I'm somehow going to fuck things up.
And then I sometimes worry [when I'm stressed, moody, and tired...like right now] that no one really gives a shit. Yup, that's right; all you're hearing from me today is "wah wah wah." Which means it's time I got off the Internet [at least for a little bit] and go on a bike ride.

tractorino

Meaning "little tractor" in Italian, it's also a label you stick on a certain type of girl [according to a friend's Italian boyfriend]. You know, the kind that probably can lift as much as the guys and likes to play rugby. The kind that's usually really nice and down to earth but you'd sort of think twice before inviting her out to anything that might require her to wear a dress.
Ever since I learned about the term, I've applied it to others, and avoided the obvious.
And then someone pointed in my general direction and said "tank."
I laughed, awkwardly [while thinking "thanks, now please stfu"]. Okay, granted it wasn't directed at me, per se, but more at the [coincidental] Italian I ride. The tractorino. I mean, it's true, she is a tank/tractor, but she's always been straight, clean lines and sexy curves in my eyes. Being able to ride her over babies, mounds of snow, and most of Boston's potholes without feeling a thing doesn't categorize her as a tank; at least not for me.

But in weather and snow like this, I'm almost glad to be riding a tractorino, rather than the foppishly dandy Brit I'm working on building up. She's tough and reliable, with the added plus of balancing me out. And as the sheer number of fat people with those tiny network laptops at my school has taught me, balance is an important thing.
I think most people passing Cambridge Bikes would also agree. A few weeks ago, Natalya of Pedal Power Photography approached me in the shop and asked if she could take pictures of me "commuting." This involved me pedaling on ice-covered snow [hence why one foot isn't in the toe clip], slowly. I actually stumbled off my bike about 3 seconds after the picture was taken, although Natalya's photo skills make me look a lot more competent than I really am.

I still look ridiculous in my knee high wool socks and shants, but that tractorino's working overtime dealing with ice, snow, and my winter pudge, while simultaneously not looking that ridiculous underneath me.
I call that an impressive feat.