Archive for the ‘outdoors’ Tag

Adventures of the Bike-Riding Girl

Wednesday, May 23rd, 2012

Hello to all butterflies flitting through gardens, worms squiggling through the dirt, and cats digging at linoleum floors.

You may have noticed there’s been a long gap between the last blog and this one. I apologize sincerely, but you must know that I don’t take any responsibility for: anxiety attacks due to no new blog entries, costs for psychologist sessions, sudden battles and pneumonia due to wandering around Canada trying to find my house and throw things at my window and scream, ‘YOU TERRIBLE PERSON, WE NEEEEEED A NEW BLOG ENTRY!’

Well, no more worries, Blog-Reader. Everything’s fine now. (Except for the two people in Japan trying to kill each other because they haven’t read a new blog entry in a couple weeks. They might not be fine.)

Anyway, where I live, there’s lots and lots of places to bike. For the last two weeks or so I’ve been in a mad frenzy of bike riding– this year, I’ve absolutely hopped on the bike-riding wagon, and I refuse to stop now. I’ve biked all the way to the south, where the bike path winds along the river and there’s lots of trees to sit in and read; I’ve gone up to the lochs and leaned over the railing and thought, ‘My, I surely do not want to fall in there.’ I’ve biked into the arboretum with all the pretty trees and the ponds, and once I went quite a ways east to my grandparents’ house just to see if I could. I could, but it turns out it’s uncomfortable to walk into Starbucks with your hair all frizzed and sweaty and your earbud dangling out of one ear and your face flushed from the heat just to ask for a glass of water like a homeless person and have a lady look at you like you really shouldn’t be here.

Anyhow. There’s something I really like about biking. You can avoid nearly everyone if you go fast enough, and the distance you can cover is amazing if you know where you’re going– which I never do. The other day I ended up on the wrong side of the canal and I was almost going to be late for my English tutor (oh, NO, THAT WOULD BE THE END OF THE WORLD) but I managed to get back okay. Today I biked around to my usual places, over the bridge, down the canal, around the neighborhood. I stopped by Yaghi’s Mini Mart, a convenience store a few blocks from my house where the one lady always smiles and says how tall and pretty I am, and there’s a cat I’ve named Muffintop for some obscure reason, and he likes to munch on grass while I rub his tummy. I went on the swings at the park for a bit, mainly just so I could get really high and then jump off; I biked down the pathway opposite the arboretum across the water and raced a girl on roller-skates– unbeknownst to her.  I saw a Jewish couple having a picnic in the park, and wanted to take a picture of them, but thought that might be a little impolite. It might be insensitive, but I like their little hats.

Now I’m home and sitting in the basement hoping that my English tutor won’t show up. Fine, I like her, but she talks kind of vaguely and, as much as I do enjoy Shakespeare, I don’t want to marry him like she does. Or at least I assume. Maybe that’s mean– but all right, she’s quite nice. I also do a great impression of her.

In other news, it’s finally warm and pretty in Onceabasementdogville. Yes– that’s what it’s called. The street is all green and the guy who takes care of the property, Julio, was pulling around a leaf-blower for three hours this morning. Jeez, Julio, how many leaves and bits of grass could there possibly be around here? I think he was mowing the lawns just so he could clear off more grass bits.

It’s probably time to go, since my English tutor should’ve shown up six minutes ago. I always hope she won’t come, and just when I’m sure she won’t, she does. It’s maddening, Blog-Reader– just maddening.

Anyway, enjoy your blue-skied spring, Blog-Reader. Until next time, I am yours never insincerely but only sometimes sincerely, Onceabasementdog.

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If I Was A Cave-Person, It’d Be All Right

Thursday, April 19th, 2012

Hello to all long-forgotten jars of pickles at the very back of basement refrigerators, excellent stop-motion animation shorts set to The Shins music, violas, tulips, and quarters.

The other day, I left the Inside World for a while to go to the Outside World. Only because my friend came over and I like him a little bit. So I biked all the way into the southern reaches of town, (and by the way just two days before I set a record for barfing thirteen times in one night due to a *BLEH* rotten chicken sausage, so maybe it wasn’t the best idea in the world), but I wanted to go out. Anyway, I was enjoying myself greatly for a while, until we saw a little blue egg on the lawn. George Harrison picked it up, and determined maybe it was best to put it down again, and then in a startling show of genius I picked it up, was in the middle of saying,  ‘You know, it kind of looks like one of those plastic–‘ When it broke under my fingers and splattered egg juice all over me.

Some of it got on my face. After I spit a few times and washed my hands I laughed about it. Do you know how pleasant it is to still feel sick after a food poisoning epidemic and then spatter bird all over yourself? Not very. Just writing about it now makes my stomach hurt again.

It occurred to me I might’ve killed the bird, but I don’t think so, since it was on the ground and must’ve dropped from somewhere. But there’s no robin’s nest in George Harrison’s tree, so he thinks it was probably his evil little sister who carried it over from somewhere. Anyway, if I was a cave-man, that would be all right, that I broke a bird’s egg– I imagine they probably ate lots of raw eggs, and didn’t even feel sorry about it. But then again, they also lived to be eighteen and didn’t have computers and blogs.

I wish I had more to say, but I don’t. Hm… did you see Lind’s homerun the other night? You know I scored 5,498,930 on computer pinball?

I bet YOU didn’t score 5,498,930 on computer pinball. Yours forever so, so insincerely, Onceabasementdog.