Learning, Learning

May was Bike to Work Month in Seattle. The Cascade Bicycle Club sponsors this big hoopla--t-shirts and water bottles and smack-talking online forums--and I unwisely volunteered to captain a team at work. Have you met me? Have I met me? This was extremely out of character. Not the captain (boss!) part, but the part about, um, exercise. BLECH. I hate to exercise! Who wants to exercise when you can be reading cookbooks? Or watching The Biggest Loser?

Each team member is required to make the trek to work on two wheels at least five times during the month. Today is May 31...I made three trips. Pa.the.tic. But I did make three whole trips, which is something. It's progress, right? And now I will share with you, fellow butterballs, the massive list of excuses I concocted this month. Chow down.

May 1: It's too hot (high of 75).
May 2: It's too rainy.
May 3: I hopped in the car and didn't even think about biking until I got to work! Oops!
May 4: My asthma is really flaring up today.
May 5: I couldn't remember the combo to my bike lock.
May 6: It's the day before my birthday.
May 7: It's my birthday!
May 8: I'm recovering from my birthday.
May 9: My husband broke my bike lock.
May 10: The trail has sooooo many bumps in it from all those rooty trees.
May 11: Crime is up in the U-District.
May 12: I don't know where to park my bike at work.
May 13: My team will carry us (this happened, because we won the contest).
May 14: My team will not notice (this did not happen).
May 15: Flat tire!
May 16: I'm running late.
May 17: I RODE TO WORK! Dustin dragged me to work on Friday night. This counts.
May 18: Helmet hair is not appropriate for volunteer interviews.
May 19: I'm heading straight to my therapist after work.
May 20: My husband needs a ride home.
May 21: I'm bringing cookies to the office, and they'll get squished in my messenger bag!
May 22: My messenger bag is missing the cross strap.
May 23: It's too hot (high of 70).
May 24: Cramps.
May 25: I might be pregnant.
May 26: I am so traumatized by that pregnancy scare.
May 27: I feel guilty that it's the end of May, but not guilty enough to ride.
May 28: I RODE TO WORK! And it actually felt incredible.
May 29: I RODE TO WORK AGAIN! Got v. sunburned.
May 30. Sounders game.
May 31: Helping friends move=biking failure.

Here's to grand delusions!

A Personal Matter

Today I was eating a popsicle on the patio at PCC in Fremont, just loving the fact that my job on Fridays includes exactly that sort of thing. Popsicles. And small children.

My darling Gabs, who turned two on Saturday, was sitting on my lap when I felt the need to, um, break a little wind. I figured there were lots of people walking by chatting, cars vrooming past, dogs barking, and the usual Fremont hubbub of activists and clipboards. No one would notice my indiscretion.

So lo and behold, the child hears my (very minor, very ladylike) toot, and says, "Ooooooh, Holly. Poopy! Poopy diaper! Change your diaper, Holly!" And she is not at all timid in screaming these accusations. The kid is loud. And she isn't a mumbler either, every single bike commuter within earshot turned to look.

Of course I chuckled along and said, "Gee! What a bummer. You have to walk all the way home with a poopy diaper. BUMMER."

She looks at me, sees straight through my cover story, and scoffs, "SICK."