sniff, roll, cough

These days, a cough, sneeze, or sniffle is enough is send me running. Preferably outdoors.
Like trains, buses, and crowded public areas, classrooms are cesspools of bacteria and germs. I made a vow this year not to get H1N1. Not so much because I heard that it sucks more than having your impacted wisdom teeth torn out of your mouth without anaesthetic, but because I simply can't afford it. November means my sights are set on the goal of finals. I don't have time to have sickness derail me.

Of course, even with all the time I spend indoors, away from people, apparently the internet can carry diseases too. Because when Competitive Cyclist reported on his "lung-clotting cold" and mentioned me in the same breath, I somehow started to sniffle. And sneeze.
Okay, that girl in my class who was hospitalized with H1N1 and double pneumonia might have had something to do with it. As well as the guy who sits next to me in tax class and probably doesn't shower on a regular basis. The end result is, however, the same: I am sniffling my way through intervals on the rollers. Total suck.

And because these things are quite contagious, the Bianchi hasn't been feeling much better. Crusty brake pads, rims coated in a layer of grime, and a chain that's as stretched thin as my sanity these days. Being a negligent bike mom, I hadn't addressed my ailing two-wheeled wonder until last night. Rims finally got wiped down, the underside of the downtube de-crusted, chain lubed, and the saddle even got some Proofide treatment.
It was like dirty therapy. Hands oily and black, I couldn't be happier. Or feel more productive.
Apparently a clean bike didn't do much for my cold, though. I'm back to clutching my cup of tea as if that's going to make this runny nose go away. But hey, I'll at least look good biking to the ER if I do end up with H1N1...

the birds and the v's

As pathetic as it sounds, if you had asked me last year if about Deep V rims, I probably would have assumed that you were talking about either a) some new sex move I hadn't heard of, or b) a porno.
I still sort of weird myself out every time I think "wow, I want a pair of Deep V's." It's only slightly better than my absolute dread at saying the word "lockring" in public because I know something else is bound to come out and I'm going to look like a total freak.
That hasn't kept me from wanting them though. It's sort of made me want them even more, in a perverse kind of way. I mean, how awesome would it be to get people to say "woah, look at her Deep V's"?
Okay I take that back, that sounds kind of gross.
But guess what came in the mail a few days ago?

Pretty in pink, it's sitting out in my tiny hallway, waiting for hubs, spokes, and yes, nipples. It's strategically placed so it's the first thing I see when I open my front door. It's better than the cat I wanted a few months ago to alleviate the sheer depression of coming home to an empty apartment, or the tv I've been wanting for over a year.
So when a friend asked me last Friday what I was up to after class, I naturally told him the truth:
"I'm going home to lick my new rim."