Commuting

So in the past few weeks I have taken up to commuting to work in the morning and home in the afternoon. Back and forth to Chinatown. Well, to say the least, it has been interesting. Mostly this is because of the interesting people that I always encounter on my way. People on fixies, single speeds, brand new Colnagos, vintage bikes, the works. But most of all it is how unhappy they are on their way to work. No one says "hi" or "good morning" or anything. Even when I say hello to other fellow commuters, they look at me like I am crazy! It's kind of weird, especially when the rest of the bicycle community is so friendly!! But nonetheless, commuting has been interesting.

A normal morning happens like this: I head out of the house with my Cal Cycling Timbuk2 bag over my shoulder and my helmet and gloves on. I make my way down the driveway, out to Monterey, and the breezy ride down to San Jose. Then down Valencia, which is always interesting, considering the double-parked cars in the suicide lane, the people wandering around looking for their first Steel Reserve, and the endless construction always going on. After a right and a left, a little jaunt down Folsom and then Dave drops off to go into work. That leaves me to join the ridiculous amount of commuters, and a five lane change to make a left on 3rd. This is where the bike lane ends, and nearly getting hit by a bus, right-hand turner, or a car who hates bikes beating them to the light. This continues until North Beach where I turn off of Kearny and go up to work. Then all my kids hoot and holler because they love that I ride a bike!

But of the all the ways to get back, I have definitely decided that the part of my commute named so aptly "The Wiggle" is my favorite. It is this certain part of my ride that "wiggles" through a part of the City that normally is up one way and down the other. Instead this ingenious little path, "wiggles" around all of that and instead just is a nice comfortable ride, almost completely flat, takes me from Market St. to the Panhandle with little effort. It is pretty great! All that is left after that is the climb back up to the house.

So to say the least, commuting in this City is nothing but bunch of laughs, dodging a lot of cars and making sure no one tries to run you over because you can dive through traffic and they can't.

Living in the Living Room

So this week I have been living in the living room, in other words on the couch like a true college student. Why do you ask have I left the comforts of the downstairs apartment? Well, the neighbors daughter is getting married tomorrow and her soon-to-be in-laws (that's a lot of hyphens) are staying downstairs. But this is not my point, not that there needs to be one. My point is more closely related to the little thing we all call the remote control.

You grow up, if like me in a large family, clammering for the remote at every possible turn, wrestling down siblings, tackling, biting, pleading, bartering, for that precious little bit of control over the afternoon's television choices. But as you graduate from the school of kick your brothers' and sisters' asses for tv control, you grow older, wiser and more civilized about such things, but more importantly, you get your own tv. Gone are the days of yesteryore when life was at the hands of that dreaded sibling, only to be later relinquished by a parent, or higher being such as homework or food. You are finally able to choose between over 500 channels of absolute crap or spend hours surfing through On Demand, only to second guess yourself when you finally chose a movie. But nonetheless, it is all yours.

So now that I am upstairs for the week I am stuck with Dave's choice of television...in other words: sailing, which is nice, but not for hours, StrongMan competitions, kung fu, bizarre films and weird off the wall choices. Alas I return to the days of being at the whims of others. Yes, there are little bits of tears forming at the edges of my eyes. I must go before I begin to truly relapse. Good bye! And I hope you have your own remote control story, and it is better than mine. Tear. Tear.

Blogging is so much fun!