Whipped

I wonder if anyone else in the office thinks about doing whip-its when they open the office fridge and see a bottle of whipped cream??

Nostalgia

A wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one's life, to one's home or homeland, or to one's family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time

A bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past.

longing for something past

A bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past.

a wistful or excessively sentimental sometimes abnormal yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition

Homesickness; esp., a severe and sometimes fatal form of melancholia, due to homesickness

Nostalgia

I wish I knew back when how important the kindred spirits I had met along the way were to keep in my life. I wish I had known that those type of people are hard to find and even harder to replace. Thinking of a few today and wondering.

I did a lot of walking in New York City. I trudged 3-5 miles a day, usually with my knapsack attached to me carrying any necessities I might need- an umbrella, my journal, a travel book, a map, extra scarfs and headgear to keep warm. I felt more tired from walking with this knapsack than I do from an hour of cardio at the gym or at least more sore, but in a bad way. I took baths in the afternoons to relieve the soreness and it felt luxurious. I explored Greenwich Village, the Upper East Side (5th ave mostly), Nolita, Noho, East Village, Soho. It all looked the same to me and I wasn't crazy about any of it. On Thursday afternoon, it rained too hard to walk around and I spent the afternoon in a bookstore and later at a midday movie. It felt so good to spend the day away in this manner!

We found a restaurant that we liked (http://nymag.com/listings/restaurant/cornershop/) and we ate there 3 of the nights for dinner. They had good salads and some interesting things like plantains and vegetable kabob. The decor was quaint, the place small and dimly lit with a heavy red velvet curtain at the entrance. It felt like a lot of the time was focused on food - where to eat, what to eat, when to eat, etc. I did ok the first few days (no sugar or gluten) and then on Wednesday, after a portabello and mozzarella salad for lunch in the East Village, I wanted something sweet. We essentially ended up having chocolate for dinner here (http://www.maxbrenner.com/home.aspx). They have a 14 page chocolate menu (crepes, pancakes, chocolate pizza, hot chocolate, desserts, etc). It was pretty impressive, but nauseating. Oh well, I guess vacation is about eating. I ordered a crepe and I couldn't even eat 1/2 of it. It had peanut butter and chocolate in it, caramel sauce on the side, a small scoop of ice cream with chocolate one it, a few banana slices in toffee, and some hazelnut crunch on top of it. Talk about a lot!

Later, I went to a craft store and bought some colored pencils and a blank book and when we went to hear some jazz music I drew and colored designs in my own little world. I need that a lot (my own little world). A couple of nights, I journeled at the bar (It felt good to write!) while Lisa drank wine. Luckily she's laid back and doesn't say anything about my anti-socialness.

I spent some time in Central Park. The first time I went, I didn't have a proper map and tried with no luck to find the Strawberry Fields (a tribute to John Lennon). I went back the next day, map in hand and just as I found the Fields, it started raining pretty heavily. I was eager to take a picture of the Imagine Circle but my camera phone died. It didn't turn on again until I was almost back at the hotel. I went again on our last day there- map and functioning phone in hand, but I've got to say, the picture I took was pretty crappy and I didn't realize it until later.

One cold frigid day, I was walking down 5th Avenue and had just passed St. Patrick's Cathedral and noticed all of these people going in so I followed suit. It turned out it was noon mass. It was pretty wild as I've never been to mass before. Later this afternoon, I met a homeless man named Spider and his dog. I stopped to chat with him and pet his dog. They both haunted my thoughts for days.

We went to Macy's and saw the ball that drops in Time's Square on New Years Eve. We went to Rockefeller Center and saw the tree and the ice skaters. We saw the Cirque du Soleil (the best part of the trip) at Madison Square Garden and then strolled around Times Square. We checked out the windows at Macy's and the shops, tree and more ice skaters at Bryant Park.

It was good to get out of Boston for a while, take time off of work, get out of the routine. It was also good to get back into the routine and anticipate the next vacation.

Cold Weather Blues

Life is so complex and moves so quickly- people make choices, get married, have kids, buy property. Something about the permanency of all that scares me. I can't do it. Its way too much commitment. I keep thinking that maybe someday my attitude will change- the right condo will come along or the right person but so far- nothing. I don't know if its perfectionism or fear or just the way I'm built but it seems so odd in comparison to the rest of our society.

Lately, I'm not so happy with my work life. It's 8:30 in the morning and I log onto the computer, start working. Next thing I know, its 1 in the afternoon and I'm going out to get lunch then a blur until I stop around 4:30. It feels like "where did my whole day just go?" I don't think this is how I was designed to live.

Lately too, my energy is zapped. I feel blah, flat. It's a cold weather thing, I think. I have little energy to be around people. It takes a lot of energy to interact, mostly because I'm introverted by nature. I hate making plans. There have been people who I've never made plans with and still spent a lot of time with. We had a lot of last minute dinners and movies and art events. It was good for me that way.

The good 'ole days

It was thanksgiving sometime in the 90's', 1994 perhaps. My parents had just gone through a 5 year all out war of a divorce and money was scarce. The house sold and I made an unsuccessful attempt to move to Florida with my then boyfriend. I was there less than a week before he kicked me out for my outlandish behavior when i drank. All I remember from that time are a few scenes- him cooking breakfast with a motorcycle helmet on, me drinking Bloody Mary's by the pool in the too bright morning light and taking a cab to his place drunk really late one night. I had no money for the cab fare and he turned me away because of my drunkenness. The cops came and I was arrested. When I claimed to be suicidal, they put me in a mental hospital for observation for 3 days. I came back from that one big Tampa debacle sometime in the spring and moved into a motel with my mother. She had $8000 left which she carried in her pocketbook in large bills. The $100, 000 that we had taken out of the bank 3 years prior one sunny afternoon had gone to lawyers and living expenses. We squandered through most of the $8000 just trying to live. I tried to work, but depression had me in its strangling grip and I couldn't contribute much of anything financially or otherwise. Spring turned to summer, to autumn and the holidays- my least favorite time of year. This year, instead of being in a 4000 square foot home, we were in a motel with hard floors and bright lights. I don't know how it happened, but we had no money. I scrapped together my mothers change, separating the silver coins out of the many pennies and managed to get together $1.60. I went down to the vending machine, my bare feet against the cold tile floor. I got pretzels and something else, I'm not sure what. I never felt so desolate in all my life; even at the mental institution in Tampa, I had more hope. Id like to say this is as worse as it got for me, but it wasn't. There was more to come and thank God I didn't know that then. Shorty after that, I lost another old flame due to my behavior when I drank- he came to pick me up one afternoon and I was bottomless in the outdoor pool. I fell one night on the way home from a bar in a black out and woke up bloodied with no idea what had happened. I later pieced some of it together. I spent a year in bed in a depression. I showered once a week and it took me nearly an hour to get the almost dreadlocks out of my long hair. I rarely went out and when I did it was to drink. My mom and I ate one meal a day- all we could afford on the alimony check my dad sent weekly. We didn't have a car so we got subs delivered from a shop nearby. Usually we split a large egg and cheese. We fought a lot, mostly because I couldn't get out of bed an my mother wanted me to get help. It was awful. I hated her but I had no where to go. Some nights I slept in the bathtub just to get some space from her. Looking back, I don't know how I survived all of this, but I did. Sometimes I couldn't sleep at night and there was nothing to do in the dark room while my mother snored gently in the next bed. These times were excruciating. I was alone in my miserable head and had no drink to comfort me. Sometimes I slept the day through even while my mother watched talk shows and complained of her plight to distant relatives on the phone. One time I remember the maids came in and they were all chatting. My mother wanted me to join the conversation and when I said "I don't feel like talking today", they all thought it was funny and laughed.

Meeting Charlie Kaufman

Last night I met Charlie Kaufman at a screening of his new movie (and directorial debut) in Harvard Square. The first thing I noticed about him as he walked down the aisle to the front of the theatre is that he is entirely normal looking, just an average guy you'd see walking down the street in Harvard Square on any given day. In fact, had I seen him walking down the street tonight, I wouldn't have even noticed him, much less stopped to realize "That's Charlie Kaufman."

I quickly noticed by his demeanor and body language that he was very uncomfortable in his skin and nervous, awkward really. It was also apparent once he started speaking that he is very sensitive and deep. He spoke about being damaged by movies that portrayed an unrealistic view of the world and relationships. He talked about how important it is to him to write the truth and that everything he writes is somewhat autobiographical (its impossible not to be, he says).
His new movie was great- full of human fragility, realness and dialogue to make you think and laugh, not to mention plenty of symbolism and hidden meanings. He refused to comment on the symbolism saying that what something symbolizes or means to him may not be what it means to us. He said he wants the movie to be a dialogue with the audience and that he's set it up so that if you watch it many times, you pick up on different things each time.

After the question and answer was over, I approached Charlie to get is autograph and a picture with him. Later, when I told a friend and she was in awe, I thought about this-how strange it is that as a society we look up to celebrities. I'm not sure if it's their fame or money or perceived power- or all of the above, but to us they seem untouchable. We wait in line for hours for an autograph, a chance to say "I love your work", a handshake, some piece of their celebrity energy that we can hold and take home with us, but in reality, they're no different than us.

Gratitude List

a safe place to sleep- I don't have to sleep with my shoes on tonight in case I need to bolt in the middle of the night.

a healthy cat who purrs like crazy!

a healthy body

a healthy mind

a job- even if its not my calling and even tho is supports something I don't believe in, I've still got a paycheck

there is nothing that I need right now that I don't have

Anger

Anger rumbles deep from within the underbelly of my being
from the darkness of caves long since silent
Drum beats and cobwebs

Anger burns a bright blaze from sorrow’s womb
roars into a crackling rage setting me afire
Fingers of flames reach higher
Stars of embers fall with a hiss

Anger dives to the undercurrent of my soul
Rippling in waters yet unknown
swelling up into waves of fury
crashing down onto shores of glory

Anger vibrates from the backbone of grief
Echoing my inner world
Sounds of memories forgotten and sorrows never healed

I seek shelter in the forest of my spirit
dense and unprotected
I look for refuge from the wildness of my marrow

Again I shut down
Falling into the hollowness of my heart, a vacant wilderness

I plummet arms wide open
wind rushing past

I free-fall to the silky balloon softness of my essence

Just Breathe

Today started out frustrating. I had an appointment this morning to get my metabolism checked. I gave myself 45 minutes to get to the Longwood medical area, which should have been plenty of time since its typically a 20 minute drive. Apparently, Longwood is busy during the late morning and I got to the parking garage just in time for my appt, but in reality 15 minutes late because I was suppose arrive 15 minutes before the appointment to let my body sit quietly and rest.

Once I got to the waiting room, I tried to meditate, but had no luck, so I simply sat quietly and tried not to move much. I wondered if thinking too much would be an issue since the nutitionist had warned me not to read since that would burn calories and could cause the results to be skewed.

After the allotted time, the nutritionist came and got me and we went to her office to start the test. I had no idea what I was in for. The test consists of wearing nose clips which pinch your nose so you can only breath out of your mouth and breathing into a device for 10 minutes. It doesnt sound that bad, and I had no issue until I started it. Because the body warms the breath, it felt like I was breathing in recycled hot air. I felt like I was suffocating! My mind started to get all these images of being really sick in a hospital bed breathing into a machine. Then I started to think of what it would be like to be paralyzed, since I wasn't suppose to move during the test. My mind was really getting out of contorl and I kept trying to bring it back, but the fact that I was breathing in this hot air and felt like I couldn't breathe, wasnt helping matters. I finally thought I had had enough. Thats the point when she told me we were 5 minutes into it and I had 5 more minutes to go! I tried to focus, think of Aruba, St Thomas, beaches, snorkling, anything! But I couldnt breathe! I knew I needed to finish the test. I knew there was no way I could start it over and that once I took my lips off the mouth piece, I was finished. I also knew it was important to have the results. So, I started singing the ABC's to myself, in full sing-song fashion. Repeatedly. This seemed to calm me down a bit. For the next few minutes, I sang, thought of Aruba, swimming, and think I said a short prayer somewhere in there.

Finally, the 10 minutes were up. And the results? My metabolism is normal. The nutritionist couldn't explain to me why Ive been eating 1800 calories a day, burning 600 at the gym and gaining weight.

In the end, it was a reminder of just how powerful the mind is, how much strength our thoughts have and how much our thoughts become our reality. That reminder was more important than the results of the test.

Good Days are Here Again...

I felt a little off for a few days, but now I'm back to my happy self! There's a fine line of free time/ activity time that I seem to need to stay stimulated, but not overwhelmed, yet have enough alone time, but not feel lonely. I seem to be back in that balance. It also helps if I have a good book to read.

I was thinking today about what it is that I want and what type of relationship with 'other' I may want and even IF I want one at all. I'm pretty content without one. I like the idea of relationship, emotional commitment, companionship, but do I like the ACTUAL thing itself? I need to think more about this, detangle fear from my authentic voice and see what falls out.

800 Thread Count

I was told today that I have a good attitude. I said thank you because Ive learned over the years how to accept a compliment. I added that I'm laid back and happy because that is what I assumed this person was referring too. When I got home, I thought about it some more and remembered how at one point in my life I was so negative and pessimistic and downright depressed. I feel grateful for who I am.

My life is so good today.

My biggest problem today was that my brand new sheets somehow got bleach stains at the laundromat and the owner refused to acknowledge that it was due to the machine and kept insisting that I somehow mysteriously got bleach on two sets of sheets. I explained that I don't use and have never used bleach. Then he went as far as to say that maybe there was bleach on them out of the package?! I was so upset. It took me weeks to finally find a good pair of sheets that are soft enough. These AND my only other set of other sheets that I like were both ruined and splotched with bleach stains. I considered insisting that he reimburse me the cost, but it was clear that he wasn't about to do this. He pulled the old "I don't know what to tell you" line that my father loves so much and has used repeatedly with me over the years, mostly when he doesn't want to take responsibility for something that he should be taking responsibility for. I was really bent out of shape for several minutes about this predicament. Then I decided to let it go- sort of. I think I still need to say my peace with the owner. I can't reasonably keep doing business with him when he had such a blatant disregard for the truth. (This is such a pet peeve of mine). I would have felt better had he said, "Yes, my machine ruined your sheets and no, I'm not going to take responsibility for it", but to act like it was somehow my fault?! That irks me beyond reason. So, this man pushed all my buttons today, at least the ones my father installed so long ago.

M.

i will be your refuge

do you remember

how it felt like coming home

we laughed and we cried

and in the end

we loved with

reckless, sweet

abandon

we were soul mates

and lovers

but still we hurt

i betrayed you

and could never recapture

I think of us still

and ache

Tonight

Walking around Deer Island during the evening is captivating. I got to witness the most beautiful sunset, the orange was so vibrant behind the skyline. The occasional airplane hung in the background and the ocean waves danced just slightly.

I always find it interesting how nature changes so rapidly, day to night to day, and we just accept it, but when we experience change in our lives, we resist with all our might.

Emotional Gypsy

Today:
woke up emotionally hungover

tried jogging in the AM-that didn't work well (my body likes exercise in the PM)

swam 40 laps

talked to a friend and realized I'm an emotional gypsy

had dinner with a new friend

met up with another friend to discuss helping/rescuing animals, specifically cats

journaled

smoked clove cigarettes- that didn't go so well for me, made me feel really sick and too close for comfort to the me of days past

met with another friend briefly

forced myself to jog to counteract the cloves and detox myself, if only a little, resisted puking

tried to read

slept

Creating my Reality

I'm on fire again. My mind is reeling again today with possibility. I joined the Paris Street Pool and met one of the guys who works there. He also has a degree in a technological field and had rejected corporate America in favor of a different life. I felt so inspired talking to him.

I feel in the flow and on the right path. I'm excited about the possibilities of what my life is going to become, but also anxious for it to happen already! I feel so open, happy, confident and powerful to create what it is that I want. There is so much to choose from! After many, many years of feeling stuck, I finally feel free and it is amazing.

Unfocused

I'm entirely unfocused today. I spent most of the day with my best friend and her son. It was great, but I didn't get the reflective time that I need so much of. Why do I need so much alone time?

I biked and swam laps again. It's my new religion. Each lap, I count and think. 1,1,1,1,1,thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, 1,1,1,1,1...and so it goes for 29 strokes. When biking uphill, my mantra is "push, push, push, push." I love the simplicity of this.

Bike, swim, or jog, move body, be outside, read, write-I need these things everyday. I wonder lately how my work and the weather in Boston fit into this and how I can find work and an environment to accommodate these needs. I'm realizing more everyday how important this routine is in keeping me whole and contented.

Does it Hit Like a Hurricane?

This morning my head was full of thoughts of Simon. I kept getting pictures in my head of yesterday. I started to question if I did the right thing- should I have gotten her chiropractic treatments and a blood transfusion first to see if that would have helped? No, no, you did the right thing. They wouldn't have helped much. She wouldn't have wanted that. My mind played this game a lot of the day. I still haven't had the profound grief I was expecting. Will it come later? Is this how its going to be?

I biked 13 miles, swam 15 laps and got some books at the library. Self care. Self care.

I believe the exercise will hold me together and sustain me.

I wanted to take her with me

My friend came to get me late this afternoon and I held Simon for the ride to the hospital since she hates the carrier and was trying to fight her way out of it. She was pretty calm on my lap. I brought food with me and some treats and a bowl for water. She ate 1/2 a can of cat tuna and drank a ton of water and had some treats. The euthanasia part was REALLY quick. It was over before I knew it. I held her and didn't feel her spirit leave her body or anything like that. I wouldn't have realized she was gone if I didn't know.

I spent some time with her after. I wish I spent more time, but how much can you do with a dead cat? I groomed her a little because she was so scruffy looking from lack of grooming and all the meds that missed her mouth and ended up on her fur. I cut some fur to keep and a whisker. I held her and smelled her scent. I loved her scent. She never got sick enough to smell bad, that's usually whats happens to CRF cats when the toxins overtake their body. I'm glad she didn't have to go through that. I had a strong desire to take her home with me and it was most difficult to hand her over someone else to get her ready for cremation.

Simon had a good last day- we took a couple of naps together, she ate food she likes, drank cat milk, sat in the sun with me, and was put out of her suffering. I don't believe she was physically suffering, but she was no longer the Simon I had know for so many years, except that she held onto her feisty-ness till the end. That's a good thing.

After leaving the hospital, we went swimming at the Y. I did 44 much needed meditative laps

then sat in the hot tub and hung out till about 10. We went to Harvard square for some salads at the outdoor Au Bon Pain and enjoyed the cool breeze and people watching in the Square.

I'm sure it will hit me tomorrow or in a couple of days, but i wish it wouldn't because right now I feel really good and at peace with my decision and the way everything went. She will always be my Simon.

Trauma

Took Simon to the vet again today, wanted to know what the vet thought, what if any treatment we should try. I decided to euthanize her tomorrow, with the vets guidance, but I'm sitting here questioning if I should have tried to do a blood transfusion to at least try that and see if it helped. I'll never know and I'm going to regret my decision, but I feel like its already made. I feel like maybe I'm grasping at straws. Loss is so difficult for me. I'm praying for a sign between now and tomorrow @4:30 so that I know it's the right decision. I wish I had parents to call.This is the hardest thing I have done since I got sober like Steve said, I've had drama, but no trauma.

CRF

Ive had my cat Simon for about 18 years, that's half of my life. Shes been there with me through some of the most difficult things that I've faced so far. At one point, I lost everything I owned- except for Simon. She had Chronic Renal Failure (CRF) for the last 5 years and has been declining the last month or two. It's hard to know when to euthanize and I've been looking to the doctors for guidance. The consensus is that if shes eating and using her litter box, she's fine. Tonight, she took a turn for the worse and is losing muscle in one of her back legs. She still walks all over the apartment, and pretty quickly too. I notices something wasn't quite right in the way she was walking and took her to the ER at Angell. It's not the first time we've been there and every time I go, its gut-wrenching to see the other people with their pets, hanging on. Tonight, there was a mother and daughter with their CRF cat who stopped eating. They decided to put the cat in the critical care unit to try to get the kidney values back down so the cat will eat.

We're like crack addicts- just one more treatment to save out furry friends. They mean more to us than we do. It's heartbreaking. I don't know how many more hours left I have with my little one. I keep wondering what I will be wearing when they put her down, what images I will never be able to put out of my mind, what images will trigger me for a long time to come. Nothing seems as painful as dealing with her illness.

The worst of it all is going through it alone. How I wish I had a partner. I don't want to be alone in my apartment tonight. I cant sit with myself and I have no choice. Life is painful today.

P*ris Street Pool

A while back someone told me there was a pool to use in East Boston that had a cheap membership. I've been looking around for somewhere to supplement my YMCA membership that is close to home, so when I did a search on-line for pool/east boston and the P*aris Street Pool came up, ao I called for details. The conversation went something like this:

-Hi. Im calling to get information on membership.

-It's $20 a year if you live in East Boston. Brin' your ID, phone bill, electric bill, internet bill or gas bill.

-Ok. I dont live in East Boston.

- Then it's $60 a yeah. Brin' your ID.

-Ok. What does it include?

- Basketball, pool ,the gym, locker room. We don' got no sauna.

-Do you have a whirlpool?

-A what?

-A whirlpool.

-I ain't neva heard o one of those

-A Jacuzzi.

-What da ya want for 60 bucks?!

-I'm just trying to get information on what the facility has.

-Just come down and check it out. We ah hear till 8 tonight.

So there you have it. 60 bucks a year, attitude included for free.

Night Riding Campfire Style

Night biking through Cambridge is one of my favorite activities. Racing down Mass Ave with my hair flying behind me and my legs burning from the push, past unsuspecting bicyclists who are minding their own business in their own individual bike world brings out my alter ego and probably wakes them from their grog. Tonight, moving through cacophony of music in Harvard Square, I am stopped by melodious sounds coming from Club Passim through speakers that are set up outside. People are scattered outside, 'camped out', watching the show on one of the summer's last nights. It is the annual Campfire, they are in their 41st and final hour of live folk music, and of my favorite musicians is on soon. Life doesn't get much better than this.

A Yellow Raft on Blue Water

Biking around Deer Island feels like I'm on vacation on The Vineyard or Nantucket (although Ive never been, it's how I imagine it). Ocean breezes, peddling against the wind, sunlight on me, wind chimes in the distance- it all feels glorious. Peddling back is HARD. The wind is crazy, wind in my face, my eyes water, sand pelts my skin, pushing, pushing, pushing to make headway on my bike. I get back to Ocean Drive and there are firetrucks and ambulances. Five men run a motor boat down to the water to rescue something or someone. It feels like they take forever and I think how slow time must pass if you re in distress, awaiting help. It turns out the site they are going to is 1/2 mile away, so the boat motors over and the ambulances drive closer. I stand around, catching my breath, taking it all in, wondering what happened. The water is choppy today and there is an empty raft that may or may not have had someone on it. I think about how one minute the world can seen great and the next minute, there is terror and disaster. Its a scary thought how there is no way to know whats going to happen next, how it can all change in an instant and how little control we actually have.

Random Musings from my journal 8/05-4/06

She looked sideways at the bare-limbed tree and said "Winter is my favorite season. There's so much life in death."
----------------------------------------------------
Time slips away
slides downward
falls beneath and never comes back
wrinkles around
without a sound
slips through your fingers
and wraps around your throat
---------------------------------------------------
You called after a years time
and suddenly you were everywhere
in the pomegranates at the supermarket
memories of you
float through
my head
your laughter and grace
all over the place
discord and harmony
in my soy latte
everywhere
just like you were
when you left
full circle
-----------------------------------------------
Although by outward appearance I'm all smooth and silky, soft and supple, I'm scared on the inside. A million marks cut deep leaving behind scar tissue, rough and hard. Some have grown old and I can no longer feel when sharp nails graze over them. Others have never seemed to heal and at the slightest touch can open and bleed again. I wont show that. Those tears that well up, they stay well beneath the surface. Sometimes they come out in other ways, seemingly benign situations call to those emotions for release.
-----------------------------------------------
They are but days. Some are better than others.
-----------------------------------------------

Critical Ass

I rode my bike around Deer Island before driving into the city to meet the masses for a long, slow bike ride- Critical Mass. It was my first time and it was exciting. There were somewhere in the vicinity of 200 people on bikes, peddling through the streets of Boston causing havoc, although from what I hear, it was mild in comparison to Friday's past.
I liked it, but I'm not sure how I feel about the bikers literally standing in front of cars, forcing them to stop while all 200 of us peddle by, through red lights. It shows a certain amount of disrespect to say the least. I'm all for rebellion, but I couldn't help thinking- what if one of these cars had somewhere important to be or had some sort of emergency situation they were heading towards? Isn't it rather self-centered of us to give the proverbial 'fuck you'? Not to mention it doesn't do much to make motorists want to be accommodating to cyclists- they probably see us as Critical Ass.
All of that said, I had a good time and it was amazing to see so many bikes and people peddling.