Spring Biking: Further Indignities

This year, spring is a mean drunk. It's here, it's not here, it's dumping rain on you like it's trying to start a fight in a bar.

Well, no dice spring. I'm not going to fight you.

I'll just ride my bike anyway. 

I was on the chariot today, even though the rain was cold and bitter, while the wind threatened to blow me into every delivery van on Spadina. I even rode it last week - or was it the week before? - when it unexpectedly snowed, icing up my rear brake. However, you really only need 50% of your brakes, when you have Nature's Brake - the foot. 

The brake has since returned to working condition, at least to whatever degree anything is ever working on the Silver Bullet. As I've already complained on Facebook, the Bullet has declined to the point where unicyclists are passing me on my morning commute. This happened on Tuesday. I want to defend myself by saying that he had fenders a fender on his wheels wheel, and therefore was a professional at this unicycling thing, but still. Simple arithmetic tells me I should have been going twice as fast, right?

I have to do something about the Silver Bullet this season. Even though I've been commuting by bicycle since last summer, I still don't know what to do with a bicycle except ride it. I can't even put air in the tires, or grease the chain. Though I bought lube just a few days ago, which is at least half the battle, or even three quarters if I'm feeling generous with myself.

The physical form of the Silver Bullet doesn't invite tinkering. It's a big knobbly mountain bike creaking behind the sylphlike Linuses of the streets. There are bar ends and shocks and more gears than I probably need. Sometimes I wander through bike stores just for the thrill of imagining one of the sleek, colourful city bikes is mine, and that I wouldn't look out of place upon its Brooks leather seat. But the Silver Bullet works. It's cheap. And I sympathize with it. Though not pretty, it's reliable, and I can always trust that I'll find it chained to the ring and post where I left it.

So, the Silver Bullet stays, but with a few tweaks. Step one: pry off the bar ends. Then we can move on to step two, which is either figuring out how the air pump works, or greasing the rusty chain. I'll never have the stomach to do anything about the shocks though, so step three will be: 

Facebook Official

Yesterday marked exactly one year since I first met Dan, aka The Suitor. We marked this momentous occasion (the longest relationship either of us has had so far in the following ways:

1. Dan bought me flowers
2. I bought Dan a vegetable peeler
3. We had dinner at the same pub as our very first date
4. Then we played trivia, because it was our regular trivia at Dave's, so it was convenient as well as cute
5. I finally changed my Facebook status to "in a relationship"

Anyway, we placed but fourth at trivia, which I hope isn't a bleak sign that the good ship MarDan is headed for the rocks. 

The Facebook relationship update, on the other hand, was very well received. Last count: 42 likes. The interesting post on gentrification I posted hours later? Two likes! Maybe my friends just felt awkward that they were checking their Facebook in a bougie cafe that had displaced a Colombian social club. Still, there is a striking difference between how Facebook handles relationship stuff, and how it handles any other sort of life event. 

Relationships, engagements, marriages and (I guess) break ups: "life events." All other things: mere "status updates." You get a big star on the life event posts, along with a little photo montage of the parties concerned. I dodged that bullet thanks to Dan not being on Facebook, so now it just looks like I'm delusional. 

Of course, I know I haven't hit "peak like." There are at least two life events and one status update that could still top this occasion. I could:

1. Give birth
2. Get married
3. Win some sort of major, international award (debatable)

Maps and Bar Legends

I just spent three hours playing geography quizzes online. This is, shamefully and honestly, more time than I ever spent studying for my one high school geography class. 

And what's it all for?

To do better at bar trivia, of course. It's not about bettering myself. It's about doing better than the three middle aged guys who always sit at the bar, Pinky and the Brains (formerly God's Particles.)

The trivia questions come from PubStumpers, an outfit that's clearly run by boomers for boomers, so the Brains have a natural advantage. They were all alive when Falcon's Crest, Dallas, and Dynasty were on; they can make meaningful distinctions between those shows. I count it as a victory that I can list them. My knowledge of celebrity trivia and eighties pop songs is no match for their lived experience of Dad culture.

I need to improve in other areas. Starting with geography, because Andorra... is not where I thought it was. I would have guessed the Caribbean. It's in Europe, of course. 

This is marginally less embarrassing than when I thought Guyana was a small island in the (again!) Caribbean. I don't know why the Caribbean has become the go-to destination in my brain for when I'm unsure of a country's location, like it's a global junk drawer and I'll find Andorra there next to some orphaned pen caps and a spool of kitchen twine. 

But there it is. So I either learn more about the world I live in, or I go to plan B: catching Pinky and/or a Brain in my honey trap. I'll excite them with my youthful energy, turn them into a double agent, and make them ID Marla Maples on the photo round so I don't have to.

Multiple Z's

I don't know why, but I have been TIRED this month. It's why I haven't blogged much at all in April. I just couldn't bear to think of a topic.

BUT.

I am getting a good sleep tonight and I have the day off tomorrow. I'll hopefully wake up rested, rejuventated, and ready to write something that's not just "Me so sleepy."

Oh hey, it's a March resolution wrap-up

Hey. Does this thing still work? Hello?

I would like to say that I was off doing exciting things this past month, but not so much. The weather took me down, I think. Another endless slog of grey days and cold nights, the occasional nice day only serving to give false hope because it would be snowing the next day.

Frugality also doesn't do much to gladden the spirits.

So on this, the last day of March, a recap of how my March resolution went: it was a minor success. Three out of the four weeks I was quite frugal, and I felt guilty enough on the fourth week that I think it counts. I never quite mastered the art of only spending the cash I had taken out on Friday for the whole week. But I did bring my lunch to work far more regularly, and cut down on the socialization.

Well, by like one day a week.

Of course, travelling is not conducive to saving money. And I am travelling. After three years away, I've returned to Victoria for a week, but my wallet was out even before I left the GTA.

(It's amazing how reasonable getting the eggs benedict at the -sigh- airport Casey's can seem when you're still hungover from the night before, and have a five-hour flight coming up.)

But, I've made some other, wiser choices. Instead of paying for a hotel, I'm crashing on a friend's couch. I have instant oatmeal for breakfast, and hummus sandwiches for breakfast. It's a slow process. But I'm getting there, and eventually my bank account will as well. 

March Resolution, Week 1: Are we ready to be RESPONSIBLE?

First, let's check in on my February resolution reset. Was I able to knit a sweater in two weeks?

OH HELL NO.
But there's been progress. I've made it to the part where the sweater transforms from being a tube of enjoyable mindless knitting, suitable for subway or lunch hour distraction, into a collection of stitch holders that feels like wrestling a sea urchin.

I'm sure it will be finished by the end of the month, if I don't run out of the decades-old and impossible to trace yarn, at which point the sweater will become a vest. And I will cry.

So, onwards to March. I've successfully completed one (1) week of frugality. Lunch was brought from home four out of the five days of the week, carousing was kept to a minimum, I ignored the cute skirts and dresses in expensive boutiques, and bought two (2) pairs of pants from Old Navy. They were already on clearance, and a sale meant I received a further 50% off, so I spent a whopping $8.40 for two pairs of pants. I have spent more on one (1) cocktail at a bar.

Uncomfortable questions were raised by this purchase. I was proud of my frugality, but also ashamed. When pants cost $45, it's easy to ignore the chain of supply, demand, cheap labour and pesticide-grown cotton that brought them there - more difficult to do so when two pairs cost the same as a combo meal at McDonald's. I saved money by buying my pants this way, but I wondered if I was being cheap instead of wise.

Go West (For a Week)

Big news: I'm finally going back to Victoria. And I mean it this time - the flights have been booked, though the rest of the trip remains unplanned. Where am I staying? Quite possibly in one of the many fine bus shelters of Victoria! Where am I eating? Er, Hernandez at least once, the rest from whatever is conveniently located within walking distance of said bus shelter. Entertainment? Books.

THANK GOD THE BOOK LIST IS ALL PLANNED OUT AT LEAST.

So, prepare Victoria. I'll be arriving, with my books and possibly no living arrangements, on March 29. 

Domestic Thursday: Plowman's Progress

My sweater knitting continues. I'm still behind, but catching up. As you can see, I have a few repeats of the body pattern finished already. I'm attempting Laura Chau's Thermal from Knitty Winter 2006, with a fuzzier yarn and looser gauge. We'll see how it goes.

I also have another slouchy beret ready to be mashed upon my head (and rained and snowed and slushed on.) The yarn was a gift - one skein of Manos del Uruguay, in a delicious blue-green shade. Only one skein though, so it had to become a hat. After poking around on Ravelry, I decided on the Star Crossed Beret, and it turned out just fine. It's a little poofier than I had hoped, but not too ridiculous.

And, as always, I've been drinking while knitting, because something has to dull the pain of this weather. (Update on my previous drinking story: the bill was no fake!) Here's the Plowman's Ale from Grand River. It's a good beer to drink in large quantities or with big meals. More malty than not, there's no real bitterness until the end, and then it's very manageable. It's just beer. Simple, delicious beer when the weather is awful, and you just want to sit and knit.

Never Shop Drunk

I was going to do a book pile for my post, but then the most absurd thing happened to me tonight and I figured I would share:

My brother's a busy guy, but we were finally going to spend some quality spending time together last night. Since he's an East Ender, we had picked The Only Cafe to drink in, which only takes cash. Fresh out, I found a TD and withdrew $60. Broke one $20 on booze at The Only, and another on food at Square Boy. These two places are like night and day. Literally. One has neon lights that shine bright as the midday sun on a fleet of cranky Greek man of indeterminate old age, and the other is black as pitch with two young'uns pulling pints behind the bar.

Now in a slightly inebriated state, I went home, but stopped off at the grocery store first. I picked up a green pepper, some hummus, tortillas and fruit juice. Dropped the green pepper in line. Gave the cashier the split green pepper anyway, telling her I'll take it since it was my fault. Feeling pretty classy, I hand her one of the $10 bills I have in my wallet.

"Uh, I think this one's fake," she says.

This knocks me out of my stupor. Fake? Really? I handle the bill. It does feel kind of weird, and as I would later discover, is completely missing the holographs, though it does have the braille pressed on it - glad the counterfeiters care about accessibility!

"Oh weird," I say, "I just got that in change from somewhere."But I have my suspicions. Between the lights and the combined century+ of counter service experience, I doubt it was Square Boy. The Only, on the other hand? I probably wouldn't have noticed if they had returned a $100 bill instead of a $10, it's so dark. (though it later turned out to be genuine - see note below.)

I hand her my other, acceptable $10 and she hands me a bag.

"Don't take it into the bank," she says, "because they won't give it back." Weird, I hadn't asked for a bag, and doubly weird, why should I keep on trying to pass off a fake bill? Should I go to the cops or the bank? Would they care about a fake small bill, or should I just tear it up? These are the questions that keep me occupied all the way home.

So occupied that I don't notice how weird my bag feels. It's only when I'm almost at my house that I look at the bag and realize what's gone wrong. Either the cashier forgot to give the person her second bag, or she left it behind, because the lady in front of me had the multiple cartons of oat milk I noticed on the till, but instead of my tortillas, green pepper, hummus and fruit juice, I had:
One pack of bacon.
Another pack of bacon.
And a whole package of sausage.

So, I'm out $10, and my groceries. But I do have one thing:

MEAT

2/20 UPDATE: The bill was not counterfeit! The police said so. However, the ill-gotten meat remains in my fridge.

February Resolution, Week 1 Version 2.0

So, the frugality thing didn't exactly happen this week, nor will it happen this month.

This is my gentle way of saying that my attempts to save instead of spend experienced a hiccup on Monday, thanks to trivia night, with a bit of a stutter following on Tuesday, before the whole enterprise finally descended into a full-on Hindenberg fireball on Thursday, when I charged a ridiculous lingerie purchase and realized there was no salvaging the resolution for this month.

But, in a way, it was a wake-up call. I didn't spend a ridiculous amount on fancy bras because I wanted to. Instead, I fell in love with the 3 for 2 deal, didn't check the prices of the individual bras, and felt awkward about saying anything at the till. Oh well, I needed bras, and the stiff, backhanded reality check the whole experience provided.

I have learned that I need to become a smarter consumer, and I'm giving myself two weeks to practice before attempting the resolution again in March.

Instead, I'll be attempting to knit a whole sweater in the next two weeks. And since the great failure and shameful reorientation, I have... a bit of a hem:

Crap. February is a cruel month.