constants

It's good to know that some things remain consistent. Like the schizophrenic weather.
Oh, New England, why is the weather here as fickle as a slightly overweight BC undergrad in unfashionable Uggs and leggings? It was in the 40s a day ago - and now this. More snow.
I stubbornly rode in today, and rode home, patting myself on the back the whole way about how foolishly lucky I was to buy the first single-speed bike that came in my size which just so happened to be a 'cross bike. Seriously, the bitch can take anything.

Well, almost anything. When my tires got clotted with too much snow, I ended up having to walk some of the way. A nice gentleman even rolled down his window and slowed down his minivan as he approached me, and asked,
"Which way to BC main campus?"
...
Yeah I guess some things - like Boston drivers - remain consistent too.

bike hat redux

She will consistently fail you when you need her the most. Or at least when I depend on her the most.

She whispered in my ear that everything was fine - good, even! - while I spent sweaty hours at my sewing machine figuring out what worked for the hats and what didn't. She assured me that this was the best way to make the brim, or line the hat, or whatever. She told me everything I wanted to hear.

And then, like most relationships, something happened. I didn't believe in her enough. She didn't want to keep up the endless moral support. She pointed out everything that was wrong with the construction of the hats. I pouted furiously because they just confirmed all of my suspicions and hated her for her dishonesty.

Confidence can be such a fickle bitch.

But a few more frustrated sweaty hours in front of my machine at least gave me some new ideas, and the promise of a better product. The brims are better; hopefully sizing won't be such an issue, and just between you and me, I have some high hopes.

So fuck Confidence. I can roll out new (and better) hats without her.