no concrete boots required

i am a water baby. the happiest you will ever see me is in/on/near any body of water, so the huz knew what he was doing when he picked my christmas present this year: we got to swim with the fishies at the world's largest aquarium! pretty convenient that it happens to be here in atlanta. if you live nearby and haven't visited, you need to get thee to the georgia aquarium, pronto!!

we swam at the surface of the ocean voyager tank with the four ginormous whale sharks -- yushan, taroko, trixie, and alice -- swimming just below us the whole time. even nandi the manta ray (the only manta ray in an aquarium in the US) came up to pay us a visit a couple of times.

of course, we weren't allowed to touch any of the fish (or mammals), so when one of the divemasters saw a visitor approaching, he would signal us all to flatten out and float with our hand straight ahead. naturally, i like everyone to think i'm cool as a cucumber, so the first time our divemaster did this, i didn't think much of it. and then this MASSIVE creature appeared just a few inches below me and proceeded to swim on through. it was completely indescribable, although if i made an attempt, the description would include the word "hyperventilating." you can't tell, but that's what's going on at about the 2:19 mark in the video below (i'm on the right). meanwhile, matt got bumped by not one but two of the whale sharks' tails during our swim. pretty funny. you can see the camera lady get clocked at about the 5:38 mark.

i sprung for the cheesetastic video they recorded while we were swimming (and some of the shenanagins pre-swim), and the huz converted it for your viewing pleasure. no making fun of how we look in the wetsuits, kids. evidently the bikini with the ruffles was not the best choice.

the barbecue song

i'm a blog slacker and this is a rerun from a facebook post (and the creative loafing omnivore blog - love!), but it's still funny every time i watch it. of course i disagree that my south carolina bbq is even a little bit off, but i do agree that alabama's version is freakin weird. their take on florida is dead-on, too (notice the shape of the state: florida, california, whatever... same thing). now i'm gonna go heat up some of the good ole dukes barbecue in my freezer and enjoy. as K would say, nummers! if you're not from the south, make sure you watch all the way until the end, where you will learn a VERY important lesson!!




The BBQ Song - Funny bloopers R us


one more thing: just in case you've ever uttered the phrase "carolina-style barbecue," here's yet another reference guide to set you straight:

mmmmm soup

my home away from home every thursday night, the fabulous souper jenny, has finally published a cookbook! and there's a launch party tonight with wine and s'mores. soup, booze, fire, and dessert on a rainy december night: what more can a girl ask for?

what do iowa, pie, raid, teflon, dextrose, rei, cobra, chlorine, sow, vatican, lebaron, nx, and neri-heka-aset-re have in common?

all names given to children born in georgia in the past seven years. and all names of kids who will be getting the crap beaten out of them on the playground in the next seven years.

except the 46 (forty-six!) named tequila. they'll be curled up in the doorway, uh, taking a nap.

because we kick ass

more reasons to love georgia tech football:

1. acc coach of the year, paul johnson.

2. acc player of the year, jonathan dwyer. (and only a sophomore, too. watch out!)

3. all-american defensive end, michael johnson.

4. they're no dummies, either.

5. a nice, sound stomping of the most-penalized, possibly most-arrested team in college football, the georgia bulldogs. oh, they were ranked #1 in the preseason, btw. (i particularly love this article.)

bonus: see title.

prop 8: the musical

shamelessly stolen from funny or die

what do you call a georgia tech grad who reigns over thousands of georgia grads?

CEO

jimmartinjimpowellsaradoyle

i got another awesome sticker today.

you should go vote. again. georgia's big runoff election (heard about it?) is this tuesday, december 2.

i'm not gonna tell you who to vote for or anything; i'm just telling you to GO VOTE! again.

why bother?

tuesday tuesday tuesday

you may have figured out that tomorrow is kind of a big day. i've already posted on how much i love voting (and think you should too), but don't just take it from me. take it from the people who are willing to give you free shit in exchange for your vote. and i don't just mean that fabulous sticker.

my personal favorite: ben & jerry's. if free ice cream is not reason enough for you right there, i don't even know why you're reading this because we obviously have nothing in common.



second place for all you caffeine fiends: starbucks. they're a bit cheaper than our pals from vermont, and they're only giving away about $1.50 worth of free-ness, but they're going to keep it up all day. many would argue that a free cup of caffeinated water should be number one on this list, but there is really no better free shit than free ice cream. period.




and what better to go with that coffee than a nice, healthy, krispy kreme doughnut? yes, you can get the best doughnut on the planet (again, do not try to argue with me; i am a wee bit opinionated on my junk food preferences) for free with your lovely peach sticker. and it's even cute.


no health food kick is complete without fried things, so shane's rib shack is giving away just that. it's not on their site, but i did read about it in a relatively reputable publication: shane's is giving you a free chicken tender meal, complete with fries and a drink. i recommend fully-leaded coke classic, unless your location serves jolt. if you're going to partake in everything on this list, don't even think about letting a diet coke or, god forbid, caffeine-free diet coke, ruin your streak of healthlessness. sweet tea is acceptable. (this being an atlanta-based blog, we won't even talk about non-coke products. pepsi is sacrilege.)




and if your conscience starts to get to you because, oh, i dunno, you're doing three weeks of boot camp complete with a strict diet where you aren't supposed to be eating any of this crap, i have a great place for you to get some exercise: the zoo! no, it's not free, but you get 1/2 off your admission if you're wearing that handy dandy sticker. what, you think the one healthy thing on this list would be free? sooooo not the way my world works.



there are plenty of other freebies outside of atlanta, including piercings in missouri, tattoo removal in dallas, a vibrator of your choice in new york (no lie)... but we know i'm all about the food. plus, i'm too lazy to post it all here, so just google it. i'm so helpful, no?

now get off yer ass and GO VOTE!

back in the day

i was driving down the connector as the sun came up this morning, trying to see the bright side (no pun intended) of being up so early. and then this little 'atlanta sounds' clip came on NPR.... just add river, fog, & cold and you have many of my early college mornings:


http://www.pba.org/programming/programs/atlantasounds/1654/
Jamie Mellars is the coxswain for the Georgia State University rowing crew. The group practice sessions are held on the Chattahoochee river well before sunrise. Their motto is, "Row Steady State".



another version with appropriate early-am pic (but still the same arms-only boat clip) and a bonus link at the end:
http://www.pba.org/programming/programs/atlantasounds/1831/
Many of the rowing crews, such as Georgia State University and Georgia Tech use and compete on the Chattahoochee River. This kind of competitive rowing has roots that go back to 1430 BC. Records show that the Egyptian warrior Amenophis II was renowned for his feats of oarsmanship. And the benefits of the sport are not just limited to exercise, but can have parallels in how to live a successful life.

root for atlanta

Help bring the largest share of a 1 million-dollar tree-planting grant to your city. You could make an amazing difference in your community simply by using any American Express® Card at participating businesses from Sept 22 to Oct 31, 2008.

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i am a blog slacker.

my mom got a kayak for her birthday. yep, she's 58 years old and got a kayak for her birthday. i think that's awesome. maybe that's the way grownups are supposed to float down the river? we used to just hop in inner tubes.

the edisto has been pretty low this year, and i was pretty disappointed that we weren't able to tube down the river in july. in my opinion, if there's enough water to float a cooler, there's enough water to float my butt.

yes, the cooler is an integral part of floating. you fill a cooler with as much beer, winecoolers, and whatever other nastiness you can get your underaged hands on, wrap a tire tube around it, blow it up, and throw it in the river. tie a string to the cooler and attach it the the wrist of the biggest lush in the group, and you're good to go.

you also need to make sure you have a couple of extra tubes for the inevitable flat at some point. and if you only have one extra tube, one person gets a flat, and you find the cooler's tube is also in danger, well... somebody had better be comfortable swimming.

the weather was beautiful today, and it was the perfect kind of day to sit on the dock and watch the water. but i always lament the end of summer. (okay, i rejoiced when each of my four summers in arizona came to and end, but that's a different story.) i like to play outside, soak up the sun, and find any excuse to be in some kind of water.

the only consolation to the end of summer?

football season.

how 'bout them dawgs?

hehe.

pray the rosary

i posted this on myspace a couple of years ago, and here it is again per liz's request. i spend too much time in my car! (and, reading my last couple of posts, could stand to clean up my language a bit.)

.........................................

a few months ago (around christmas maybe? definitely before boot camp -- see food choice for proof), i was driving back to atlanta from the parents' in south cackylacky. my mom always tries to shove food down my throat as i'm leaving, but i always say no since the whole production of going through the refrigerator to list any and all of the selections, picking something, preparing it, finding other side items to go along with it, and actually sitting down to do the eating would result in my getting on the road around midnight -- no matter what time the whole process began. it's about a 3-hour drive, so on this particular night i started feeling the hunger pangs around the state line, and my little head could focus on NOTHING else besides a mcdonald's filet-o-fish by the time i reached washington road in augusta.

not being all that familiar with the area, i missed the turn and ended up taking a left just a few feet past a traffic light, at a rather nasty little intersection. this truck pulled up RIGHT behind me and stared honking its horn. okay, i thought -- i'll pull up a little so he can go around me. the truck pulled up with me, millimeters from my bumper, and continued to sit on his horn.

now here is where an important lesson comes in: NOBODY gets between me and food. when that blood sugar dips, i am a nasty person to be around, and most people around me know to just administer the IV of fully-leaded, original recipe coca-cola straight to my veins, and soon i will return to human form. straw polls i've taken through the years tell me i'm not the only one like this, and most humans of the female persuasion have similar reactions to low blood sugar crises. dude in the truck did not get that memo.

i wanted to turn into that damned mcdonald's just as badly as truck man did, believe you me. the shining beacon of all things fried and unholy was gleaming just to my left, just taunting me, as all of these stupid cars just kept on coming. and dude just sat on his horn, attached to my little VW bumper. so i did what would be expected of me in this crisis: i turned around, looked straight at him, extended my arm as far as it would go -- with one finger held skyward -- and loudly enunciated, "FUCK. YOU."

and then i turned in to the mcdonald's. everything was going to be all right.

so i gave my order (mmmmmm filet-o-fish and coke), paid at the first window, and looked up to proceed to the manna-distribution window. and there he was. this beat-up, piece o'crap old blue chevy truck, right next to my car. with a nasty, 50's-ish redneck, mesh hat, chewing tobacco, nasty teeth and all, leaning out of the window, STARING at me.

um, okay.

i moved up a little, thinking he'd go away. he moved up right alongside. i kind of sat there between the two windows, dumbfounded. if you can stun me enough that i'm not even going to go get my food, you've really gotten me. redneck dude leaned out of his window, extended that same finger i had shown him earlier, and drawled, "NAW, FUUUUCK YEEEEW!"

holy shit.

he drove away, i proceeded to the food window, and the highschool girl holding my filet-o-fish bag at the checkout was pretty freaked out. she wordlessly handed me the bag, eyes wide, surely wondering what i had done to warrant such a display. i mustered a comment to assure her i'm not as big an a-hole as dude, took the bag in my shaking hands and drove away. i took a sip of my coke, felt my humanity return a little, and figured i should get out of there asap.

i went around to the stoplight (where i now know i should have turned earlier), and who was in front of me but that damned blue truck. so i called M's cell and shakily left the following message: "uh, if i don't make it home tonight, write down this license plate number...". (not even thinking, of course, that that is probably NOT the message that one's fiance wants to hear on his voicemail, but i digress....)

when i looked over and saw that the truck had a bumper sticker. a bumper sticker with a pair of prayer hands that says, "Pray the Rosary."

seriously?!

actually, i think i was over all shock by this point. so i rolled down my window, put my little prayer hands out, and started yelling over and over, "PRAY THE ROSARY! YOU PRAY THAT ROSARY!!!"

like you didn't know i'm going to hell.

i called my friend K, the super-devout catholic with the sick sense of humor, to tell her the story, but that call went to voicemail, too. when she called back later that night, i found out why her phone was off: she was at mass. praying the rosary.

spamalamadingdong

i just deleted about a bazillion spam messages from my email, and some of the titles were just spectacular. i copied a few down for your reading pleasure:

• britney in coma, feared dead
• you are about to get fired [would have freaked the hell out of me 5 yrs ago]
• fill in your life with colors of fun!
• shopping queen loves to party
• michael jackson gives up being a pedophile
• bulgarian diplomat arrested with 0.4kg of plutonium
• oprah winfrey breaks leg in horror crash
• what a stupid face you have there misskelley [personal favorite]
• misskelley is a moron
• you look really stupid misskelley
• slap-up products of fashion
• cling on to budget bling blings
• natural fertilizer for your cucumber
• with such big bolt even statue of liberty will be satisfied!
• flawless narcotic offerings
• i videotaped my mom while she was masturbating [most disturbing of all]

nice, huh? don't those links just screeeeeeam, "click me"?!? i think i'm going to be a spammer when i grow up.

there's a muthaf*ckin SNAKE on the muthaf*ckin CAR!

my family lives in the middle of nowhere, south carolina. in fact, "nowhere" is what lots of the kids i grew up with call(ed) our town. when people in atlanta ask me where my parents live, i just laugh and tell them the same thing. when they press on -- "no, really, is it near i-85? or charleston? what about myrtle beach?" -- i have to explain: seriously, it's not near anything.

my dad lives down a mile-long dirt road he refers to as his driveway. his house is on a river, so close that the porch overhangs the water, and it's surrounded by a little inlet on the other three sides. so basically he lives on a secluded island. if bad things happen that far out in the boonies, you're pretty much screwed, and we all know people who have harrowing stories to back up that point. (mine involves a diving board, lots of blood, mom driving REALLY fast to the hospital 25 miles away, and staples in my 12-year-old scalp.)

way out in BFE, as it's affectionately known, you get accustomed to wildlife being all around you, but there are some things i never, ever got used to. my three least favorite things on the planet earth: snakes, spiders, and shots. shots for when you step on the inevitable nail (i've always loved going barefoot) or bust your head open and need some novocaine. spiders in the woods and sometimes in your house. and snakes near lakes, rivers, fields, and pretty much any other landform surrounding either of my parents' houses. i am scared shitless of snakes. shots invariably contribute to my overall well-being in the long run and are quickly over with in the short run. spiders i can smush (albeit with closed-toe shoes only). snakes, i can do nothing about. i can't even look at them or think about them without making guttural noises of fear, disgust and utter loathing. ugh. no good can come of a snake.

last weekend, my dad and i were discussing the merits of nonpoisonous vs. poisonous snakes. or, he was discussing their merits, and my stepmom and i were proclaiming the need for ALL snakes to DIE. dad's point was that nonpoisonous snakes tend to be quite territorial (according to my bio-major brother), and they keep the poisonous snakes out of his yard. no matter, says tough girl here. if i see one, i'm just gonna KILL IT. yep.

so here i am a weekend later, back at my dad's. we were all over the county visiting friends and family, and i let him use up the gas in his car while my VW and its premium-fueled gas tank sat under his carport for a couple of days. sunday afternoon i said goodbye to dad and headed down the long dirt road to my mom's. i got about 1/4 mile away, past all of the neighbors, and a little lizard peeked over the edge of the windshield on the passenger side. you know how you can sometimes have about a million thoughts in about half a second? here's how mine went:

"hey look, a little lizard. how cute. what's he doing up on my windshield? i hope he doesn't fall off and get smushed. i wonder if i should stop and get him off of there. [lizard gets a bit more bold and comes further onto the windshield.] hmmm, he's got a really long neck. THAT'S NOT A LIZARD. [insert a shocked-as-shit, mind-numbing, gut-wrenching, soul shaking, pants-peeing, shriek of scared-to-death here.]"

no words, no "holy shit." just "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!" at its loudest, wake-the-dead, if-my-windows-were-down-you-could-have-heard-it-in-georgia SHRIEK.

i have never executed a faster, tighter three-point turn in my life. i speed-dialed my dad (from 1/4 mile away): "I AM ON MY WAY BACK TO YOUR HOUSE GOING VERY FAST AND YOU NEED TO BE OUTSIDE WHEN I GET THERE BECAUSE THERE IS A SNAKE ON MY CAR AND YOU NEED TO GET IT OFF!" [imagine clipped-off words streaming out of my mouth in top-of-my-lungs, rapid succession. i mean, super-loud -- even by my standards. every sentence for the next 10 minutes sounded just like that.]

needless to say, i HAULED ASS back to the house, turned off the car, jumped out, slammed the door, ran 20 feet away from it, jumping up and down, screaming, "THERE'S A SNAAAAAAAAKE ON MY CAAAAAAR! A SNAKE! A FRICKIN SNAKE! THERER'SASNAKEONMYCAR!!!!!!" not sure if it really qualified as yelling; i think it was more like a high-pitched, ear-splitting girlie scream. jumping around, stomping, shuddering, and general ridiculousness accompanied all of this noise.

dad had not made it out of the house yet, but the neighbors were in their yard, laughing their asses off. "YOU EITHER NEED TO STOP LAUGHING OR GET OVER HERE AND GET THIS SNAKE YOURSELF! THERE IS A SNAKE ON MY CAR!"

neighbor lady's response? "i've never seen a car fly over that bridge so fast in my life. i thought you must have had to use the bathroom really bad."

she was half right: it really is a wonder i didn't wet my pants.

so dad ambles out of the house, trying (not very hard) not to laugh at me. "i don't see a snake, kelley. oh, well." snicker.

"HE'S STIIIIILLLL THERE! FIND HIM!!! I WAS DRIVING TOO FREAKIN FAST FOR HIM TO'VE JUMPED OFF!"

"how am i supposed to get a snake i can't find?"

"IF YOU DON'T FIND HIM, YOU ARE DRIVIN ME BACK TO ATLANTA 'CUZ I AM NOT GETTING BACK IN THAT CAR!"

"fine. pop the hood."

so, the lovely folks at the VW dealership have been telling me i need to get the hydraulic hood-holder-upper-thingie fixed, but i've been remiss to spend the $150. i never went up under the hood. that was their problem -- sorry for ya. this had now come back to bite me in the ass. so to speak.

"you need to come hold this hood up for me."

uh, i had no intention of getting within 10 feet of that car right then.

but the snake had. to. go.

i stood as far away from the last place i saw that little green head, holding my arm as far outstretched as i could, realizing i should have spent that $150 last month. plus, that hood was heavy.

and there he is.

curled up under the hood, just below the windshield on the passenger side, was a looooong, skinny, black snake.


dad found the back end of a broom or hoe or rake or oar or something and tried to flip the thing out of the car. it didn't work: he flopped back on the car and slithered away. TOWARDS ME.

this is the point at which my father almost lost his arm, but he acted fast enough for me to not drop the hood on him. little snake dude didn't realize that uncoiling himself just made him easier to snag. try number two was swift and accurate, and dad had the perpetrator up in the air, flying toward the river in no time.

i let the hood drop and jumped up and down, stomping my feet all over the yard, screaming utterances of disgust.

i thanked dad, wished him a happy father's day (he had more than earned that $4 card, buddy), made an ugly face at the neighbors who were still laughing, and drove on to mom's. every now and then i would check the floorboards to make sure i was alone, as i kept picturing mr. snake finding his way through the air vents and into the car. once i got on the highway, i turned on the cruise control and drove with my feet in the seat.

when i told everyone at mom's what had just happened (explaining why i was shaking and wide-eyed: no, i'm not on meth; i just look like it), my brother-in-law asked what kind of snake it was.

"what kind of snake?

"a FUCKING SNAKE!!!!!"

seriously, is there any other kind? sheesh.

i am too in shock to think of a title right now

um, yeah.

i'm too in shock to think of witty commentary, either.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/eonline/20080529/en_celeb_eo/091c1140609f_4b0a_86c4_a510c70eaa8c

seriously, how appropriate is it that the woman's name is jaymes?

although please note: "artificial insemination" does not necessarily a couple indicate, people! (further proof: " 'they have been good friends for a long time'." "friends.")



[somewhat unrelated: there is nothing on tv and for some reason i'm watching so you think you can dance. and there's a chick doing rythmic gymnastics to YANNI. please don't ask me how i knew that.]

i'm not *necessarily* high maintenance, but...

not exactly speed racer

i busted out the rollerblades last week.

i was on the upswing of the trend back in the 80's when i got my first pair of rollerblades. my town didn't exactly have a skate park or even well-paved roads, so i could really only skate around on an outdoor basketball court down the street. i knew a girl in college who rollerbladed everywhere, and she eventually convinced me to try my old-school wheels on the mean streets of north avenue -- to somewhat negative results. i have no idea where those skates are now, and even less a clue as to why i decided i would be more successful with new ones over ten years later. let's just say i am a sucker who can be talked into anything.

i've owned this pair for exactly 6 years, and i haven't actually put them on my feet for about 5. i bought them about the same time as my bike, both of which i purchased right after breaking my arm in a freak snowboarding accident. and by "freak" i mean i tried to snowboard and was quickly reminded that i have zero coordination or athletic prowess. so i immediately went out and bought more sporting equipment, duh.

anyway, last monday was a beautiful day and i decided to take advantage of it. once every four or five years, we have an amazing spring here in atlanta. usually it goes from freezing cold (okay, 40's/50's or 60's + raining) to hot hot hot (90's), like, in two days. this year, we have had a bunch of awesome days with temps in the 70's and so sunny that you would be nutzo to stay inside. i spent most of last sunday inside for various (not sucky) reasons and spent all of the next day trying to stop thinking about playing outside.

which led to thoughts of rollerblading.

i'm sure these thoughts were also brought on by my visit to the green(ish) belt on the recent trip, as that was the site where my skates first hit pavement. and, as i mentioned earlier, i tend to see my past with rose colored glasses, so i couldn't stop thinking about how fun and easy and non-life-threatening rollerblading was. hell, if i tried really hard, i could probably remember myself as a kick-ass snowboarder, too, but i have plenty of pictures with me in a cast backing up the contrary there.



and my dad. easter dinner, 2002, with the whole big extended family gathered around the table. i'm in a purple cast. here's how the conversation went:

• dad: A [my older sister] was such a gifted athlete growing up, but she never really cared for sports that much. kelley, on the other hand, tried every sport she could. she tried and tried, but she really never had any athletic talent, whatsoever.

• me: WAIT! i wasn't that bad!

• dad: kelley, you're 30 years old. you'd think you would have accepted the truth by now.

• me: i'm twenty-four!

• dad: eh, close enough. you might as well start rounding.

i think he meant for that conversation to be funny. i was traumatized. still am.

anywho, i have had an athletic bug up my bum for the last couple of weeks. last week it was rollerblading. i dug my skates out of the bottom of the closet, wiped off some dust, and hopped in the car to drive to piedmont park, where i knew there were at least no cars to run over me when/if i veered out of control. i didn't remember how much my skates resembled ski boots. (incidentally, i had decided to try snowboarding on that fateful trip because i suck so badly at skiing.) bad memories crept in, but i had confidence. i strapped those suckers on so tightly there was no way i'd break an ankle. sweet -- one body part taken care of at least.

i headed down charles allen dr., quickly realizing i have NO IDEA what i'm doing. and people can tell. after hitting a couple of huuuuge crevasses in the sidewalk (okay maybe i'm exaggerating) and watching people trying not to giggle as i wobbled all over the place, i remembered why i bought the whole kit of elbow, knee, and wrist guards when i got these suckers. too bad i didn't put them on today. bad idea. baaaaaad idea.

the best looks i got were when i was waiting for the light at 10th to turn green. wobbly chick on narrow strip of rolly wheels, trying not to fall over and/or roll on into traffic, hanging onto a pole for dear life. oh yes, this was a low point.

but i am indestructible (and delusional), so i did not once think of turning back. nope, as soon as that red hand went away, i teetered across the street. only to find an even crackier [is that a word? it is now] sidewalk, covered by little twigs, on an incline, on the other side. greeeeeeaaaaat. at least there were fewer witnesses here.

i headed to the lower loop, the meadow (where screen on the green usually is), since it's smaller, rounder, and basically less scary. plus there were fewer downhills, and i had determined in the first 30 seconds that i was pret-ty rusty on the braking. as in, i couldn't even remember where they were at first. wobbly girl with bare limbs and no speed control. hey, no worries -- i have plenty of grass around to slow me down! yeah, my judgement isn't questionable at all.

but that's okay because i have my trusty ipod and i can tune out all the soccer players, bike riders, joggers, walkers, and bocce ball players who are surely talking about me. i'm not paranoid or anything at this point. too bad the blaring ipod means i can't hear those damned bike riders coming up behind me. yet another obstacle. one old man kept giving me the look of death when i got near his grandkid on his little bike, but dude needs to teach that kid how to get out of the way. i have very little control here, people! on a river, the least maneuverable boat has the right-of-way. that would be me today! the kid decided to park himself horizontally across a bridge on my last loop, but lucky for him i'm a fast learner and an excellent swerver (take that as you please). if grampa won't teach him a lesson, i will. i'm an excellent educator.

in all, i completed four loops (over a mile) before the sun got too low for me to see all the little sticks in my path. turns out sidewalk cracks and bike riders are pretty predictable; it's the flotsam and jetsam that will really eff you up. noooot a good feeling.

but guess what? i didn't fall! not once! did i look like an asshole trying to resurrect a 20-year-old fad? probably. did i take advantage of a beautiful day, get some good exercise, and feel better about myself in the end? definitely. we'll see if that trend continues or if those wheels collect dust for another four years.

i'm gunning for the former. in the last week, i've rollerbladed, gone for a super-long walk with R, spent a whole day painting a house for homeaid atlanta (if you don't think that's exercise, tell my muscles), played 18 holes of golf (yep, me), and spent some quality time in the yard with the fredmonster. not sure what the hell has gotten into me, but this being active stuff doesn't really suck!

the bike (neglected just as long as the skates) is in the shop and will be ready to ride next week. any bets on how many times it'll see the light of day this year? i guess it depends on how long this freakish spring lasts.... bring it on. :)

who will they blow up with no USSR?

the title of this link says it all: