Why?

I have the most difficult roommate in Silicon Valley.  He continually messes with my stuff, much to my dismay.  I just went to turn my, MY stereo on.  He had unplugged it.  Sometime between last week and today, he unplugged it.  To save power, I assume.  Every time that happens I have to re-program the damned thing and it annoys the sh*t out of me.  He's re-programmed my coffee pot before too.  And he's unplugged my stereo before.  Despite my repeatedly asking him to STOP TOUCHING MY STUFF, he does it just to be a prick, I swear.

I think I should unplug the stove.  And the microwave.  And the garage door opener.  He has no TV any longer or I'd unplug it too.  

WTF?

The final nail in the coffin...

I'm moving next week. And after today, it's one of those things where I have no doubt that I am making the right decision.

I was scheduled for a pre move-out inspection at 4 p.m. today. I needed to be home for it, so I busted my ass to get out of work at 2, so I could go ride and be home by 4. FAIL. I wasn't able to leave work till 3. I can do the ride later. Well, the wind is crap and my allergies are bugging me, so indoors it is.

However, it's 4:32, and still nobody has shown up for a "move out inspection". I just called the office and they are "sending someone over". I came home for this? Not that I'm not glad I'm here and not at work, but this is a bunch of hogwash.

Let me go down the list:

- My appliances are about as old as God.
- The refrigerator randomly freezes things - haven't been able to put eggs in the egg holders in the door since I moved in (last May). It's only stuff on the top shelf of the refrigerator too. Everything else is happy and unfrozen.
- The pipes have started knocking in the walls, bad. Whenever my upstairs neighbor flushes his toilet or runs water in the bathroom, knock, knock, clunk, clunk. For like 5 minutes after he shuts the water off. When I mentioned it to the office, "Oh that's normal.". Uh, not in the real world it's not.
- The washing machine is so rough on my clothes that 2 of my favorite tank tops are FULL of holes and in tatters. They were fine when I moved in last May...
- There seems to be a severe allergy to picking up your dog's crap around here. Good thing I get allergy shots.
- Speaking of dogs, everyone has dogs (plural, most have 2). And everyone's dogs bark. It sounds like a kennel around here. My dog is quiet, and all the barking prevents her from getting her 18 hours of beauty sleep each day, and prevents me from working at home. Especially when the gardeners come with the leaf blowers.
- Speaking of which, the gardeners with their arsenal of leaf blowers haven't been here to mow or blow leaves around for like 3 weeks. Maybe the bill didn't get paid?
- There are small gangs of pre-teenage boys everywhere, on skateboards. In the parking lots. Umm, isn't that the equivalent of "go play in traffic"?
- I have a leak in my apartment. And not just any leak. A foundation leak. Awesome. I found this out during the recent wet weather when the carpeting was really damp around my BR window and I hunted around looking for the leak, and was unable to find it, other than it was coming up from the floor. The office's solution? They came in and shampooed my carpet. Yeah, that'll fix a leak every time. When I explained that I think I found the source, I was told, "Oh, experts have looked at this. They know what they're doing.". Yeah, been told THAT ONE before and didn't believe it. I don't believe it this time either, but I don't give a crap, because I'm moving out.
- My guests never are able to find a place to park anymore. Why? Because everyone has 2 or 3 cars, and we are allotted ONE parking spot.
- Speaking of multiple cars... I just found out that the management actually allows 2 adults and THREE children to live (max occupancy) in each 2 BR 1 BA apartment home. Are you kidding me? That's the same one I've been living in, alone, for the last year. If I had to share a bathroom with another adult and 3 kids, there would be an unhappy ending.

It's 4:55 and the guy just left (at least he's nice and was honest, or at least I think he's honest. He's always been a cool guy...). He came at 4:40. The office told me my inspection was at 4:00. They told him: 4:30. UGGGHH!!!

End of rant. I can't wait to move next week...

Beware - there was another sale on crazy pants*...

* Many, many thanks to Megan Guarnier for coining this phrase. I swear that it's the only way to think to keep things in perspective with so many asshats out there "acting out".

Last night, one of my friends and I went for a ride. It was a lovely night. Warm, sunny, a bit windy, but felt really good to be out. As we were riding across Arastradero, we heard a car honk behind us. In the process of moving over, the car pulls up next to us, and proceeds to "lecture" us about taking up too much space. Honestly, I didn't hear a lot of the conversation, as my teammate was actually in between us, but I heard something about "in the middle of the road" and "dangerous" and "holding up all these cars behind me". I yelled, "No, YOU'RE holding up all the cars behind you by being trying to educate us and driving in the middle of the road on a winding road with a crapload of blind corners!" At which point more words were exchanged (my blood was boiling and I heard very little), except the final, "What if I were to put you in the ditch?". WHAT? Are you effing kidding me? We BOTH yelled at him, "GO AHEAD! I'll call 911 right now and you have a TON of witnesses behind you! GO AHEAD!". My teammate said something about "you can buy my next education, and I think I want to go to LAW SCHOOL!". The guy even had the nerve to tell us that he was a cyclist. My ass he was a cyclist. I've never been so angry at a cyclist that I would threaten to "put them in the ditch", even in jest. I guess when you get really old, as this guy was, you feel the need to spread your "many years of wisdom around". Yeah pal, you can kiss my butt.

We got through most of the rest of the ride, but I was still pretty mad. In Redwood City, we had a SECOND encounter. This time it was with a fat, middle-aged woman. We were riding side-by-side on a deserted street when we heard a car. My teammate rode ahead and over into the bike lane, but we had to go around a car parked in the bike lane. Unfortunately, fat-ass decides to pass us at the same time, on a slight hill, with a pretty big blind spot - the down hill (and subsequent stop sign) at the bottom of it, which was pretty close to where we were. As I was cresting the hill I heard the screech of brakes and saw that the woman nearly went through the intersection! I kind of chuckled, thinking that she wasn't paying attention or something, because let's face it: 99% of CA drivers cannot be bothered to drive AND pay attention. But that was only part of it. Naturally, it was OUR FAULT she almost ran the stopsign. Again, I missed the bulk of the exchange because I was further back, but the woman made sure to slow up enough so that I could hear it too (I was honestly trying to stay the hell away from her when I realized she was serious). But I clearly heard: "This is why you guys are always getting killed. Riding in the middle of the road and blah blah blah." I was too stunned to even say anything. We weren't "in the middle of the road".

This is what makes me want to get a camera for my bike. It's been awhile since anything like this has happened to me, but it's so rare to encounter such rude, vile people. I'm still pretty upset about it today. In both cases, it was completely and utterly unnecessary. Sort of makes you wonder WHY someone would be so pissed off and so miserable with themselves that they felt they needed to pick on random strangers to make themselves feel better.

People, don't fall for the crazy pants sale! They're not worth it!!! And if you get the chance to get someone like this out of their car? Yank their crazy pants off!

Sometimes people are SO stupid...

Metering lights... When the light is red, you stop. When the light is green, you go. When nothing is lit up, the meter is OFF and you go. Seems simple enough.

I can only speak for a few on-ramps, but I know that those metering lights turn off at 10 a.m. After that time, wheeee! Anyway, I was running a bit late this morning and hit the on-ramp around 10:30. No metering light, right? Most would think that because, well, IT'S REALITY. About the time the curve of the ramp straightens out, most normal people are accelerating to merge into traffic at the speed limit. There were 2 cars in front of me that were sort of dawdling. A maroon Tercel (or some variation) and the black Mustang convertible in front of me. All of a sudden, the Tercel slams on their brakes at the metering light and the Mustang plows into them. Fortunately for me, I was well aware of my surroundings and able to move around them without having to brake much.

Ummm, who stops for a non-lit metering light? Okay, who in their right mind stops for a non-lit metering light? No, they weren't elderly.

I still feel a bit bad about not stopping to offer to be a witness, but dang. I've always thought that the time between Thanksgiving and New Year's was the worst time of year to be on the road, and it seems to hold true every year.

Hold onto your butts. We still have a few weeks till the madness is over...

Grow up and vote.

Tonight, I left work early to go to the gym. It was raining lightly, and everything on the radio stations was saying to "drive mellow". Lots of spin-outs and accidents due to the rain. I saw a few driving like morons, as usual. Tailgating and such. You just know that those people wouldn't be able to stop in time in the rain, and I always pray some *sshat like that stays off my tail.

Around Marsh on 101 North, I saw a caravan of automobiles, all with signs, in support of Proposition 8. I have my own feelings on the Proposition, but it's a free country. Tomorrow is election day, and everyone has a right to express their viewpoints. Out of nowhere, a silver BMW comes flying past me on the right, and darts into the caravan. I think, "Jeez, plan ahead... it's raining, can't you think ahead for a few seconds and plan your exit safely?". A few seconds later, the BMW darts out of the caravan towards me, speeds up and then darts back into it. I was so shocked that it hadn't occurred to me exactly what was taking place until a few moments later. The BMW veers out of the caravan and back towards me again. I get a good look at the guy: white, male, late 30's, silver BMW 5-series, 4-door sedan. He speeds up and darts in front of me. Now I'm mad. I lay on the horn and the jerk slams his brakes on. Hi. What the heck is your problem buddy? I probably aggravated the situation by telling him he was "#1", but I'm sure he already knew that. That prompted me to call 911, as I felt like he was endangering a whole lot of people, just because he disagreed with a caravan of people, expressing their rights to free speech.

When I finally got through to the 911 operator, the jerk had darted in and out of 101 and onto the collector distributor lane before the Holly Street exit (I'm well aware of the irony here). I was so shook-up that I was in tears trying to explain to the nice 911-operator exactly what took place. I couldn't get the fool's license number because it all happened so fast and I was unable to follow him with his erratic driving. I was able to explain what had happened and what had so obviously set him off, and a description of him, and the car, but no plate #. I have no clue if he exited at Holly, or darted back onto 101, but it was likely the latter. Both the 911 operator and myself got a good laugh when I had to give her my location and name (no pun intended).

I can't believe I was the only one that called and turned that moron in. And I'm ashamed that I too oppose Proposition 8, not because of what it is or represents or what I believe in, but because that jerk just made everyone who opposes it look like a homicidal maniac to every single supporter in that caravan. Thanks, pal, thanks a lot. It wasn't so much that he was darting in and out in the rain, but he was DIVING. Turning his steering wheel HARD and directly in the path of those cars. Endangering people just because they disagreed with his thinking (and people like myself who weren't even involved). What kind of Neanderthal douche-bag does stuff like that? And I'm not saying that all BMW owners drive like a-holes, but why is it so many of them DO?

It made me start thinking about how polarizing Prop 8 really IS. I mean, think about it. Nobody will win. Regardless of the outcome, nobody really is going to win. If it passes, then there will be another prop in a few more years to re-vote. If it fails, same thing. It will be like a bad penny and keep coming back again and again. And what will it do for *true* voting? Will people try to vote multiple times just to make their point? It's just ugly any way you look at it, unfortunately.

Back to the douche-bag on 101 tonight... Jeez dude. Don't endanger people just because they don't see eye to eye with you. Just grow up, and go vote.

We have TWO butt gasket bandits!

I was sort of glad to have caught the one last week, but on Friday, I caught a 2nd one. God. Both women have kids. And homes. And husbands. And the 2nd one, even has a cook, so I presume she thinks that someone should just pick up after her.

Wrong idea, sistah!

Anyway, with some input from some nice people who left comments, I'm doing the following: I've created a funny checklist, which I'm going to hang up in each stall. It's printed and all official, and not hand-written (since my hand-writing sucks). And this way, if someone gets pissy and tries to take them down, I'm just a button click away from printing 1 more for each stall.

I tried to be realistic, cover ALL the bases and still have a sense of humor about it, so that it can be fun to learn. Jeez. Now if that doesn't work, the founder's admin is going to help me out and the both of us are going to go talk to both of these butt gasket bandits.

Here's the note, in case someone else needs a copy for their own work-place bathrooms (note: here at work, they hang up official notices in the bathrooms called "Testing on the Toilet". Since I'm not interested in working while I'm taking care of bizness, I pretty much ignore them. But I lifted the title for my own signage):

TESTING ON THE TOILET
Before you walk out of the stall, do the following:

1) IF the toilet an Auto-flush toilet, did it flush?
IF YES
good, proceed to step 2
ELSE
push the button and flush it
IF NO
surely you remember how to flush a normal toilet. do it.

2) Did everything get flushed?
IF YES
good, proceed to step 3
ELSE
go back to step 1

3) Is your seat liner still on the toilet seat?
IF YES
for God's sake, push it into the toilet bowl and go back to step 1
ELSE
good, proceed to step 4

4) One last check of the seat, did you leave any drops of "bodily fluids" behind?
IF YES
Does your Mother work here?
IF YES
don't burden your Mother! you're old enough to clean up after yourself
ELSE
wipe off the seat
IF NO
Do you see a full-time attendant in the bathroom who'll clean up after you?
IF YES
clearly, you're lost and in the wrong building
ELSE
wipe off the seat
ELSE
all of the women of 1055 Joaquin thank you - you may now exit

Busted! But now what?

For the past few months, some twit at work (or maybe I should say twat? It's more fitting...) has been leaving seat liners (aka: butt gaskets) on the toilet seats. Not making sure the auto flush toilet flushes all their junk away. And the lamest infraction: walking away from the handicapped stall leaving both the butt gasket AND their junk behind. Hi, the handicapped stall is the ONE toilet in our bathroom without a heated seat, or the auto-flush. And I really thought I worked with smart people. I guess smart does not translate to: neat or tidy or un-lazy.

Anyway, I've been DYING to catch this woman. DYING. Curiosity has been killing me and I've made so many trips to the bathroom, just hoping to catch this twit. Alas, she has always eluded me.

This afternoon, I rolled up into the bathroom to find TWO stalls, already occupied with the used butt gaskets on the seats. NASTY! I'd lost all hope. However, when I decided to use the bathroom later this evening before heading home. Someone was in the far right stall. Nobody in the other 4, and no used seat liners. So I used my favorite stall and noticed that the other person waited till the toilet flushed, then washed their hands. In the middle of washing their hands, I was done and walked out of the stall. I didn't really make eye contact with her, but as I was reaching for the paper towel after she'd already walked out the door, there it was! The used butt gasket left behind. UGH, not only did the b*tch leave it behind, but she left a smear of blood on it. That's so revolting, I just can't even believe it. And the offender? OMG, someone I'd never imagined! She's an engineer! She's got 2 kids! And a husband! And probably the most disgusting house in Silicon Valley. Jesus. Bleah, bleah, bleah, bleah, bleah! I'm just grateful that I never have to work on projects with her, but Christ.

Now what do I do? Do I confront her and bust her out? Do I start leaving butt gaskets on her chair? Do I send out a company-wide email (jk)? I can tell you one thing: I'm going to think twice about touching any surface without a paper towel or tissue in hand while at work. Even though she DID wash her hands, that's really, really disgusting...

Why I hate to ride my bike in Burlingame

Our sponsor shop is in Burlingame (Summit Bikes). Periodically, I'll ride from home over to see them. As it's been hot, I'm trying to ride in the heat to acclimate, so I headed over yesterday around 11:30. While riding along the gutter line on California Avenue (4-lane road) a car came within inches of me with their mirror. I was a bit miffed and raised up my hand like "what the hell?", especially since the other lane was completely devoid of cars. Well, unfortunately for both of us, the car hit the light red at the next intersection. I rolled up, not looking for a confrontation, but wanting to just say, "hey, you got really close to me, please be careful.". Oh, that's so NOT what I got... Me: "Hey, do you know how close you got to me back there?". Psycho woman driver: "It's YOUR fault. You swerved out in front of me!". Me: "Umm, no I didn't. All I'm saying..." PWD: "IT'S YOUR FAULT. YOU SWERVED IN FRONT OF ME! HAVE A NICE DAY! HAVE A NICE DAY!!!" Me, "Look, lady, do you understand..." PWD: "HAVE A NICE DAY! HAVE A NICE DAY!" The more I tried to say, the more she interrupted me. I should have known that on a day close to 100, with all her windows rolled down, that her brain was probably pooched from the heat, and that trying to reason with a psycho is a moot point. Sort of like, jumbo shrimp, military intelligence, etc. I was so shook up that someone could have such little regard for another's safety that I just yelled at her (over her still screaming at me), "Nice, well, it's obvious that you're a psycho. Have a nice day!" and rolled forward.

In hindsight, so many things come to mind. Like, if I really wanted to get hit, I'd not mess around with a car, and I'd go and "swerve" in front of a bus. Or does it not imply the motorist isn't morally obligated to avoid hitting a cyclist, even if the cyclist swerves a bit? For the record, I didn't even twitch. I can ride a line without wavering for a very long time. Then there's always the stuff you think of saying hours after the fact. Like, "It's nice the mental institution lets you out for the weekend, but you really SHOULD go back before someone gets hurt.". That would have been a fun comeback. But likely, the way she was acting, she probably did it on purpose, and then was mortified to hit the light and then, on top of that, be confronted. Well, if you endanger me, and I can catch you, I WILL confront you. I don't regret confronting her, but I regret that it kind of consumed me for the day and that's such a waste.

Not more than 45 minutes later, after stopping at Summit to get COLD water and visit, I headed back towards home. Checking out the course for the Burlingame Crit next Sunday. On my second pass, as I was getting ready to get out of the madness of downtown, some asshat in front of me (I was a safe 4-5 bike lengths away, but we were doing close to 20), decides to SLAM on his brakes to let a pedestrian cross (not in a crosswalk). Holy sh*t. I slammed on the brakes and missed slamming into his bumper by about 1/2 inch. God, I was furious. And you know what? HE NEVER EVEN SAW ME. The pedestrian did, but not the motorist. Wow... I decided that I couldn't get out of there fast enough and there was a huge blockage at the next intersection, so I stopped (full stop) and then proceeded through the 2 cars blocking the entire intersection, only to be nearly pegged by someone turning right. I hit the brakes again, they let me go (I have no idea if that was my fault or not - I was pretty shook up by then). I got out of there as fast as I could, in tears.

I have had more "near death" experiences in Burlingame than I ever have in San Francisco, Los Gatos, Redwood City, South City or Foster City. All places I consider to be more dangerous than Burlingame. But I've been proven wrong again and again.

All I can say is that I felt safer than I have in ages on the bike path yesterday. And my SRAM Red brakes work REALLY well.

So I'm not a jerk, my co-workers are just lazy slobs

This time, I taped it to the top of the mirror, since all of the big paper clips have mysteriously gone missing. The worst part, in using the long piece of tape to grab the butt gasket off the toilet, the end of the butt gasket dipped into the toilet. EEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!! Too bad the picture didn't come out better...

If I can catch this person, I think the funnier thing would be not to confront them, but to silently put a butt gasket on their desk chair. This was suggested by a co-worker and I think it would be awesome!

I'm on a mission now...

Sometimes I can be a jerk

A funny jerk, mind you. But a jerk. I have this pet peeve at work: women who don't bother to see if the auto-flush toilet actually flushes their junk down the toilet, women who drip all things unholy on the toilet seat and then leave it for some unlucky bloke, and women who leave the butt gasket on the toilet seat. Jesus. I work at Google for crissakes. Some of the brightest minds work here. Supposedly. Yet these women (I've been trying to catch the culprits for months, because I can shame them like no other... and I've been bleakly disappointed to not catch a one of them) expect someone else to clean up after them.

A few months ago, someone left a butt gasket on the toilet. Incensed, I went and got a sticky note and a red Sharpie and left a note, with a brand-new butt gasket taped to the mirror. "You left this behind. I thought you might want it." I ran out of the bathroom trying not to laugh. A few hours later I went back in and it was gone. Bummer.

Earlier today, I went in, and there was a butt gasket left on my favorite heated toilet seat. UGGGGH! So I used a different stall. Tonight, when I went into the bathroom to change for my ride, there it was. The used butt gasket was back in my favorite stall. Even though I had to use the "big stall" to change in and go to the bathroom - I couldn't help it. I found myself digging through my backpack for a Sharpie and scrap of paper. I left a note: "Please take this with you next time. Nobody wants to sit on a USED seat liner. Gross!!". The cleaning staff leaves a couple of gigantic paper clips in the bathroom to use to prop the door open, so I grabbed one and used it to grab the butt gasket off the toilet. I then grabbed the note and somehow got part of the butt gasket in the sink, setting off the automatic water faucet, which washed away part of the used butt gasket. By this time, I was almost crying from stifling the laughter. Using the end of the clip, I attached the entire thing to the tampon dispenser, took a picture, changed my clothes and got the hell out of there before I got an aneurysm from holding back the laughter...



I sure hope it's still up in the morning, although I'm afraid to go look!

WTF is up with the weather?

How can I possibly acclimate to the heat when it's 50-something on my after-work rides? 2 weekends (Madera and the Wente Crit last Sunday) I've puked in my races. Both times it was well into the 90's.

At Madera, it was in the TT and at least I could back off a bit and recover, while only losing a bit of time.

But shoot, Wente? I'm in a crit. How the hell do I back off without getting dropped? Answer: I followed an attack (after puking, mind you), which of course, blew me to smithereens. But hey, I'd rather go down, guns blazin' , than be a puss and just drop out. Yeah, I puked again after that, but whatever. And with the crashfest that ensued, my dropping out of the race was a blessing in disguise. And from the looks of this pic (thanks Garrett!!! Go check out Garrett's photos at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/garrettlau/), I was already dehydrated well before the race even started. Nice white mustache. That's what I get for having a super-stressful work-week (I have GOT to win the lottery...).

Back to the weather. My thought, after suffering like a dog on Sunday was to start riding mid-day, to acclimate to the heat. Bloody hell. It's been like 30 degrees cooler ALL WEEK. I haven't bothered riding at lunch, because it's only 60-something degrees. I still need knees and arm warmers in that weather. Maybe I should wear a space suit, or plastic bags or something, but with all the wind, it would be deafening! And I might actually get blown off the road...

Mondays

So how was YOUR Monday?

Mine started off innocent enough. But then I took the dog for a walk. I have some new neighbors. They moved in about 3 weeks ago. They have a dog. A yellow lab. A normally docile creature. Not this one... 2 weeks ago, he was off-leash in the courtyard and he came after Bette. Luckily, I just reached down, picked her up and held her overhead. The owner was yelling for the dog to come. He totally ignored his master and the guy had to come and drag him away. Nice. I said, "WTF? Where's his leash?" "Oh, he's a nice dog." "My ass. Where's his leash?".

This morning... no owner. Just some girl who lives here and insists on trying to be everyone's new best friend. She's now been hanging with the new neighbors and taking the yellow lab for short, windy walks. Except this morning, he was off-leash again. And I didn't see him. And I had an arm-load of mail and magazines from my over-stuffed mailbox. He ran around me, in front of me (effectively cutting me off) and got into Bette's face. I kicked at him to nudge him away whilst trying to pull her back, but he came at her again. Now she's cornered in the bushes and defensive, and I don't blame her. So she jumps at him to push him and he comes unhinged and attacked her. I threw down all my mail, lost my slippers and was screaming and crying and making noises I've never heard come out of my mouth. He had her neck in his mouth and wouldn't let go. I yanked his collar: nothing. I broke and bent fingernails back, yanking at the scruff of his neck: nothing. By this time, the neighbor girls was there, doing something, although I couldn't tell you what. He doesn't listen to his owner, why would he listen to anyone else?

Somehow, Bette got loose and they ended up behind me. I'm on my hands and knees, on the concrete, scrambling to get my dog loose. Around I go, and I wanted to kick him in the
head, or punch him in the head, but with her neck in his jaw... All I could think of was to pry his mouth open. This wasn't working, so I stuck my left index finger into his eye. And I kept pushing, while using my left thumb to pry his upper jaw open, and my right hand to pry his lower jaw open. I got bit, a couple of times, but he let loose and I was able to scoop her up while jumping up and got both of us in the house. I collapsed, sobbing and checking her over. Amazingly, she only has a bit of road rash on her chin. I have road rash on both knees, lacerations on my right index finger, broke half the nails on both hands, and broke off the ring finger nail on my right hand about 2 mm into the quick. I almost passed out when I cleaned it and put hydrogen peroxide on it.

I was so angry that I called the apt office and filed a complaint. I was then urged to go to the urgent care, where they filed a report with the SPCA. If this was the first time, I'd still be pissed, but this dog has come after mine TWICE. In three weeks. Both times, he's been off-leash. No excuse for that. I hope to God this never happens again, but I think if it did, I'd have to choke the attacking dog. Maybe if it didn't have oxygen, it would let go sooner. Christ, I don't know. It was scary as hell and happened SO fast...

The dog is sleeping away. I'm typing like a 3rd grader with the bandaids on my fingers. But here's the damage. It's black and blue around the knuckle and sore as all get-out! The photo is blurry, but it really feels much worse than it looks...

Payback's a b*tch

I hate when people steal things. Two of the last three Saturdays, I've had to leave early, before my paper arrived. One of the Saturdays, I didn't get home till around 4, so it didn't really matter. But last Saturday, I got home around noon. No paper. WTF? I think I'm the only person in my building that gets a paper, but people, please. Buy your own effing paper! How much are they, like $0.50? If you can't afford your own paper, then maybe you should move to a more affordable neighborhood, no?

As I usually do, I opted not to get mad, but to get even. I swear to God, if my front porch were made of wood, I'd nail the paper to it, but then again, my paperboy must be sleeping in on Saturdays. Last Saturday, I left at 6:30, no paper. Dude. 6:30!!! So, I kept a paper from Thursday. And of course, I keep the little blue plastic bags they come in, because they make awesome poop bags! Tonight I doctored up that paper.



I lay it on the kitchen counter, opened and filled each section with flour. Not a ton, but enough to make a mess. I put the entire paper back together as it came to me, put it back in the plastic bag, and it's lying in the hall. I plan to leave in the morning, grab the *real* paper and switch it with the flour-filled paper. Muwahahaha! I hope that whomever is stealing it gets that sh*t all over themselves and all over their apartment. It will absolutely serve them right.

If you wonder where this comes from, it comes from my Grandmother, Ruth. My Dad's Mom. She was my rock. Greatest cook in the world, and a fabulous mother-figure for me. When she was working, she'd put her lunch in the company refrigerator. Someone kept stealing her sandwich. So, one day, she got even. She made a sandwich, with some Ex-Lax in it. Put it in the refrigerator just like all the other days. And sure enough, it was stolen. I remember how funny she thought that was, and you know, I get it. I really do. If you steal, then you deserve what you get!

Don't get mad, get EVEN!

Cyclists, Woodside residents and the Sheriff

Who'd of thunk that a large, fast-moving group of cyclists could create a roadblock for more than a few moments?

The residents of Woodside, of course.

This is my 4th year of racing. For FOUR summers, I've been wanting to go on the Wednesday night Valley Ride. But I've been afraid. Afraid of being dropped. Afraid of the rumors of sketchy riders. Afraid of looking like the dreaded "Fred", well, maybe "Frederique". My coach finally talked me into it. "Just try it" he said. So I decided to just try part of it. "Be sure to get a good warmup in". So I did a couple of 10 minute efforts to get some intensity into my legs. I knew I'd have to blend in from nearly a dead halt and append onto the back of the pack, and that was going to be tough, since I'd planned to join in from a slight downgrade section.

I went about my business warming up, and then waiting. Waiting whilst rolling around. Finally, the group arrived, and yup. Had to join from a dead halt. The entire group passed and then I sprinted to latch onto the back of the pack. And they just sucked me along. I moved up and whoosh, whoosh. It was fun! Over a slight crest and then back down again. Whooshing along. Didn't seem sketchy to me, at least not last night. Over another crest and then damn. I had to use my biggest gear so I wasn't spinning my brains out. I don't think I've used that gear in a very, very, very long time. And then we turned, it were going down a long, section of gradual rollers. On an uphill roller, I eventually blew up and popped off of the group. I worked pretty hard to catch up to a teammate, and then we rolled along to the re-group point. I figured the group could just pull me along, back to where I'd parked, and I'd be good to go. So I waited. Once we pulled back onto the road (Kings Mountain Road) and started heading towards 84 and Roberts Market, there sat the Sheriff. I heard voices saying, "Single file! Everyone ride single file." which I tried to do. But others were passing. Then we spread out again as we approached the stop sign at 84 and Kings. The first group got through the left and the rest of us had to wait for traffic. Finally a nice motorist stopped and motioned us to go through. This is where it gets weird. There wasn't much room between the motorist and the head of the group of cyclists, but somehow, Mr. Man (the sheriff) drove through it. I felt like he'd endangered us, but I already know that as a cyclist, my opinion does not matter. Not in Woodside. He cut us off and then parked sideways, in the middle of 84, just to get out and lecture us and make a huge showing for the motorists. I'm thinking to myself, "Wow, what a jerk". He proceeds to lecture us about taking up the entire lane and riding 5 abreast when there's no bike lane, and how he'd gotten FIVE calls already about us. This is where I have to call bullsh*t.

I know this group, and I know the route. The group is traveling at the speed limit for cars. This is why it's so damned hard to stay on the ride. It's FAST, and if motorists are angry because they can't get around, then that tells me they are speeding. And due to the speed, the entire group is present in Woodside for maybe 25 minutes. Tops. I caught the group out in Portola Valley at 6:25. I was back at my car in Woodside at 7. I got popped at 6:35, in Woodside, and part of the route is going up the backside of Kings Mountain to Huddart Park. So for those 5 or 10 minutes, the group is not in the vicinity of any vehicular traffic. Five calls my arse. The whole lot of us would take things more seriously if the door swung both ways. Where was Mr. Man 45 minutes prior when a dark gray Mitsubishi Eclipse passed me within about 2 inches out on 84. I was over to the right as far as possible and there was no oncoming traffic. The driver was just being an a-hole. Where was Mr. Man last week, when I was again, as far to the right as possible, and one of his beloved Woodside residents blew past me in a HUGE, white pick-up truck, with a BBQ strapped in the back of it, on Kings mountain road, missed me by an inch or so (again, no oncoming traffic) and then turned into his driveway? Where was Mr. Man 4 years ago, when some stupid woman ran me off the Kings Mountain descent and I crashed into the ditch, breaking my helmet and denting the sh*t out of some residents fence (said fence kept me from falling down the ravine). 8 out of 10 times I ride in Woodside, I nearly get pegged by some jerk-off motorist, trying to MAKE A POINT. As cyclists, we don't really bother filing complaints, because we know nothing will be done.

But if you're a Woodside resident and mad because some horde of cyclists makes you sit behind them for about 1 minute or so, watch out. The Sheriff's got your back.

Me thinks I'll start spending my Wednesday evenings at the track, where there are no Sheriffs or rich, angry residents with nothing better to do than bug the cops and prevent them from tracking down the speeders, stop-sign runners, drug dealers, meth labs, pimps, prostitutes and bank robbers plaguing the community at large.

S t r e s s and stupid people

Tomorrow is a big day. Tomorrow, is a court hearing for a man, a drunk, a total f*cking idiot who ran over my former teammate whilst riding her bike, on the day before Christmas Eve. I received news of her accident that evening, while in Seattle for holiday. I felt so helpless, being so far away, and being able to do nothing. I promised her husband I'd be there for the court hearing, as it was the day of my return. Naturally, my flight was delayed, but I made it anyway. The hearing was postponed. Till tomorrow.

Mind you, she is a strong person. The strongest, most stubborn individual I've ever known. I knew by listening to her husband (a doctor) that she would be fine. Her husband setup a website to keep all of her friends, family and the cycling community apprised of her progress. You can see it at: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/maryannlevenson . It's really great, and he updates it daily.

Now here's the kicker. The granddaughter of the "accused" (and I say this loosely, since he was actually detained by witnesses, arrested and spent the night in jail), had the audacity to post to her caringbridge web-site. WTF? Oh I'm sure she was sorry, but my guess is that she is sorrier her grandfather is being painted as a drunk, than the fact that he seriously injured, and nearly killed a human being, wife and mother of 3 rambunctious boys. My favorite line is: "Changing lanes is dangerous." Of course it is, especially when someone changes 2 lanes and then rolls into the bike lane, and then it's really fricking dangerous for a cyclist in said bike lane. My 2nd favorite line in the post was that Walter Sorensen (drunk, old fart, stupid man, and yes, I hope he and his lame-ass granddaughter find this, read it, and then I dare them to contact me) mistook a living, breathing, MOVING human being on a bike, IN the bike lane, for an "inanimate object" lying in the road. I wish that someone would explain to me how one is unable to distinguish between a person and an inanimate object. God, how bombed, or old and feeble is he that he can't figure this sh*t out? Damn. Maybe he shouldn't be driving any longer, hmmm? I don't know, call me crazy. Good people take responsibility for their actions. Bad people just make excuses.

Hopefully, by posting this rant, I can behave myself in court tomorrow and not embarrass MaryAnn, her husband, their boys, their attorney and the rest of my cycing community. I think I can. I hope I can!!!