Friday, February 11, 2011

Mourning

I'm in mourning.

Yesterday, I came up with the fantastic idea that I would bike into boston. Good idea, as I've been eating too much and not exercising enough.

I've winterified my bike as much as possible, wore as many clothes as I could and still look-well if not awesomely well put together-decent enough for being amongst other people (it included long underwear and a fleece).

Biking in was great! It was still sunny, traffic wasn't the pits. The bike lanes were hilarious-I'd be in one for about 100 feet and then it would veer into a snow bank.

No thank you, I don't want to crash my bike into snow. No cars hit me, I am still whole-except for my right hip, which is slightly sore.

Anyways. I was downtown at this event called "Dating While Feminist, Part Deux" which was a really neat panel/small group discussion about the issues that come up in dating someone, expectations and what life is like as a feminist dealing with people who are a)pseudo-Feminists-using the name but not actually feminist b)proto-feminists-refuse to use the name...but are way cool Feminists despite that c)Unconverted-those people who haven't really had interaction with feminists and feminist ideals beforehand d)sexist pigs-UNTOUCHABLES! AHHH.***

But yeah. That's not really the point of this post.

Let's go back to what I first said. I'm in mourning. I started biking home last night ~9:45. As you can imagine, we're not on the South Pole nor is it June 21st. So, it is completely dark at 9:45. Except for all those street lamps. And headlights. And store lights. Perhaps I should rephrase that? There is practically no source of natural light. So it's kind of dark.

I had a head lamp and a red flashing light attached to my backpack for safety. My father made me a holder for the bike light, as I managed to break the strap off the original holder when I was trying to get it off my old mountain bike onto my new, spiffy commuter bike. It was this giant square metal/plastic thing that screwed on to the handlebar of my bike.

Unfortunately, I don't have the headlamp anymore. Its parts and batteries are bits of smooshed litter on Mass Ave, somewhere in Cambridge at this point. I feel awful, contributing to litter.. But would you stop to pick up pieces in the middle of a busy street with a T bus right behind you? No? I thought not. Moral of the story? Buy a head light that doesn't slip easily and don't break the strap off the original holder.

But bike at night. It's great fun.

***Seriously. Don't pay attention to what I'm saying. It's all made up. Well-the definitions are real enough. But not the terms. I made those up. Don't repeat them!

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