I Should be Networking and Stuff

But, well, you know ...

The one thing I'm worried about, being unemployed, is the laziness factor. You see - on the inside, I'm really a lazy person. It's not that I'd rather be laying on the couch in a house dress eating ice cream and watching Oprah...

It's just that, well, sometimes when I have time on hands during the day, I find that I AM laying on the couch with my laptop, eating hot pockets and lemonade and doing searches on "pruning lavender" or "men in skinsuits" or "naked men bike racers" or "jenny dolan" or something.

And that's what happened yesterday. There I was, laying on the couch, with MTV on, reading mail, doing searches, sort of looking for a job, looking at blogs, eating egg/spinach and cheese bagels and drinking lemonade. And then suddenly I only had an hour and a half left until I had to pick up the kids.

And I hadn't even ridden yet.

So I quickly changed into my cycling "outfit" and downed a couple of big glasses of water and slapped on the helmet and shoes and took off on the cross bike and rode around Joaquin Miller for an hour.

I made it back with minutes to spare and jumped in the car, with the "outfit" still on. When I got to the school I got the how come you're always late to pick us up? bit from Lulu. You don't even have a job anymore!

She's given me that bit a few times since I got laid off. Sunday as I was gearing up to do a pre-ride on the course, which needs to be measured perfectly because we can't be on the course during any races, she asked me to make her a sandwich.


Sorry, no can do I said.
Come on, you're my MOM, she said.
I only have about 8 minutes to pre-ride. When I come back I'll do it.

How come no one cares about me? she said.
No one is feeding me!
Please feed me, she said

Nope I said and turned around.
And I heard her say as I was strapping my helmet on...
You don't even have a job, why can't you feed me!
Go find dad I said.

Somehow I need to break it to her that I still have two months of said JOB left to do.

Yesterday she asked me if I would start wearing an apron while I was cooking dinners, now that I'm a "laid off" mom. I'm not really the apron wearing kind of mom, nor the cooking type. But she's got it in her head that if you don't have a job you wear aprons, like our friend Fiona.

Fiona is the kind of mom who walks her kids to school every day, with her ceramic mug of coffee in hand (not the travel mug kind of mug, but the open top ceramic kind that has a picture of her kids on it) and her combo slipper/rubber bottomed shoes. And she walks real slow like she's got all the time in the world. And she's always smiling and laughing. And then she goes home and starts planning her dinner menu of home grown, organic parsnips and carrot and potato soup. And then she puts her apron on and listens to groovy music.

And here I am, heating up hot pockets and leftover pizza and thai food and macaroni and cheese. And searching on the Internet for naked bike racers.

Maybe it's time for an apron.

Show Me the Money

Yesterday was fun.



I had a good race. I was smooth as ice. No crashes and not too many falls. I even made it through the sand pit a few times.



I didn't place too well but I had fun. There were 3 of us duking it out. Egging each other on and trading places and racing. And that's all I need to have a good race - people to race against and to have fun with.



At the start, Karla said to me make sure you have fun. And so I did.



And then I won a Sycip frame in the raffle.



They told me as I was racing. Everyone told me all along the course. All the kids told me, teammates (old and new) told me, friends and acquaintances told me and of course the announcer announced it a few times. He even pronounced my last name correctly. And that in itself is a feat.



It was confusing at first. So all I could do was smile and nod as I raced around. And then it made sense when I went through the start/finish and I could hear the announcer better.



And then it sunk in even more at the run up, so I took a beer feed in celebration. And I tried to grab some money a few times. And I asked who was smoking the pot? It sure smelled like pot!

Ah yes, that's cross.



And when I finished I went over and met the Sycip guys. Who are super, duper nice. I'd wondered why the Sycip tent was there when we first showed up. Usually at cross races I notice the Sycip racer guys kind of spread out amongst all the tents.



But there the tent was. And there the brothers were - Jay and Jeremy, such nice guys. And such nice sponsors.



I'm excited. They said they'd make me any kind of frame I want and paint it any color. Maybe I should get an orange cross frame to match my new Team Oakland kit next year.



It was a good weekend. A lot to be thankful for. And thankfully, it all overshadowed the news I'd gotten earlier last week - that I'd been laid off, just two days after making the trek overseas and two days before Thanksgiving.



So for a little while, until I find something fun again, I'll have lots of time to ride. And thankfully there's still two months of cross racing to do to keep me occupied.

it IS about the bike

Especially when you haven't been on it for 10 days.

I went for a nice 2 hour ride today. I feel ok. I feel tired still. I think I still have jetlag or laziness syndrome or something.

Or lullness syndrome or something. Or I don't know.

It was a nice ride on the cross bike. But I could barely pedal. I felt like I'd been off it for years. And it made me think of not racing Sunday, but now I'm thinking I should just jump right back in and race and get going again. Because cross season doesn't last forever you know.

And I do really enjoy it.

And I feel thankful about that. Because it's Thanksgiving and all. There's lots and lots to be thankful about. But right this moment I'm very thankful I got out for a ride today.

It's Monday

Finally, I know what day it is and what time it is.



Travelling is always good for a little perspective.



I didn't leave Manila until late Saturday night so I spent all day Saturday with co-workers driving around and eating and going to a spa and learning about Manila.



They told me that about 80% of the people in Manila are very poor. There's plenty of crime. And corruption. And kidnappings.



And armed guards everywhere. And your car is searched a lot and we were searched before entering most buildings. And most crimes go unsolved.



And then there's traffic. I will never complain again about traffic in the Bay Area.



And I haven't been on a real bike in over a week.

The Hand

It's been pouring rain here in Manila for 24 hours. Every thing's wet and I can't sleep. So we went to the mall after work.



Apparently Christmas starts in September here. I keep hearing about the "four months of Christmas" from my coworkers.



And apparently it's against the rules to take pictures of baked items in malls. I got the hand wave in front of the camera as I was trying to shoot (notice how it's blurry) and then was shooed away by the baker and pointed towards the "no picture taking" sign on the wall while trying to take a picture of the roll with a face.



I got some gifts for Morgan and the kids and some of the parents who are helping Morgan out with kid stuff while I'm gone. I think they'll like them. My coworkers brought us to a store where they only had Philippine made items.



It was fun, considering I'm not a big shopper.

I want to write about the spin classes I've been taking with my co-workers but I'm so tired.

We took back to back spin classes before work today or yesterday and yesterday or the day after, I guess. Two hours of spin.

It's like a rave class on spin bikes. There's a lot of dance spinning. And the teachers do a lot of YEAH! COME ON! UH! UH HUH! COME ON! and so forth. And there's a lot of spinning really, really fast. And they call the fast spinning "racing". COME ON GUYS, the spin instructors say guys a lot, OK GUYS! they yell at us, LET'S RACE GUYS, COME ON GUYS.

And the lights go off and on and they're bright colors and I wonder if I might have an epileptic seizure and the music is so loud it hurts your ear canals and it's techno rave music and the fans don't work so there's no air circulation and it's hot and humid as hell.

Boom chicka uh, chicka uh, chicka uh, chicka uh, chicka uh.

So I close my eyes and pretend I'm 26 and at a rave and dancing my little ass off. Why not? I think to myself. And halfway through the second class one of the women I'm with, Tytana, sneaks out unbeknownst to Kathy and I. Kathy and I continue on in our own private Idaho's, shaking our butts and dancing to the uh chicka uh, chicka uh, chicka uh, chicka uh.

Later we find Tytana in the locker room brushing her hair and she tells us she just couldn't take it anymore. And she's the one who's 26.



And in case you're wondering that's a giant hand I'm sitting on.

Magic Sunday

After Sunday's race and mexican food stop, we drove home.

I'm skipping the race recap because right now I can't remember anything about Sunday's race except for two things.

Thing number 1 - somehow my bike shoes didn't get put in the truck even though they were stacked right next to my helmet and gloves and the food bag and the clothing bag near the truck. So I borrowed guy shoes from Gary from Pen Velo that were three sizes too big and I wore three pairs of socks. And then George lent me his cleats.


photo by swoo

I had trouble clipping in during the race because the cleats seemed to be in a different place on the shoe. They were near my toes. It was confusing. And I kind of had to tip toe because I would trip a little on the top tips. Toe tips. Top toe tips.

Say that 10 times really fast.

Thing number 2 - on the last lap I got tangled AGAIN in course tape next to the barrel and it was in the sand and the tape somehow clothes lined me and then yanked me down and I hit the ground with my nose. Good thing I have a big nose, because it probably saved my slender cheek bones. And then two of the men A's warming up came over and picked me and my bike up because I guess I was laying there a little longer then I should of.

Mom always said, don't play ball in the house.


photo by dustin

Sometimes just when I think I'm getting the hang of cyclocross and feeling a little cocky, a course will jump up and slap me around a little bit and then punch me in the nose.

So yeah, we drove home from Prunedale after the race and mexican food and as soon as we got home I ran upstairs and took a shower and grabbed my suitcase and computer and we drove to the airport.

And then point A to point B took 19 hours. 19 hours! I'm like some sort of magic plane meditation relaxation expert now. Because somehow it didn't even bother me. 19 hours in a 5 foot by 7 foot space didn't bother me. And I only drank one glass a wine. And I didn't take any sleeping pills.

Trip a little on the top tips. Toe tips. Top toe tips.

We sat on the plane for an hour and a half before we took off because it was overbooked and then we sat in Guam for 2 and a half hours while paramedics came on the plane and attended to two medical emergencies. I don't remember any thing else about it. And I didn't even really sleep. I kind of dozed here and there. Thank god for Ira Glass and David Sedaris and This American Life.



Already I've been to a spin class and worked a night shift and had 3 breakfasts and 1 dinner and 1/2 a lunch and lots of water and 2 cups of coffee. And I still can't figure out what day it is, nor how much anything is even though they all keep telling me it's 42 pesos to the dollar.



And they're all very nice here.

Trip a little on the top tips. Toe tips. Top toe tips.

Discombobulated

I'm in the Philipines. Today is tomorrow here.

Or it was until a little while ago. Right now tomorrow is actually today for a bit longer.

I'm so turned around. I'm making people call me to tell me what time it is and where I should be going.

I keep subtracting hours and adding hours where they shouldn't be.

And it's hot here.

It's Thursday Night

And they're getting ready for their ride down there.

And I'm laying in bed, tap, tap, tapping away.

It's cold out. I'm sure glad I'm not out there. They're taking whiskey in flasks to keep them warm. I'm cold just sitting in the house.

As soon as Morgan leaves I'll crank up the heat for a while and eat some pretzels and drink a glass of wine in bed. We have this ongoing war of heat cranking and heat lowering. I turn the temperature up and then he walks around grumbling about how hot it is and turns it down. And then I turn it back up when he's in the other room.

Wear a sweater he's always saying.

But I do. I'm always wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants and socks. And I'm still cold.

These kids, they drive me crazy sometimes. Jumping on the bed tackling each other, screaming and yelling and it's giving me that sense of always feeling like I need to duck, sort of like when you know a ball is about to hit you because you can hear it bouncing right behind your head and you're waiting... Any moment someone will land on me or step on my foot or on my stomach.



STOP IT!, I yell over and over. But they're not listening and they don't care. Don't knock my glass over, I yell.

Watch the glass!

I'm leaving for Manila on Sunday night. I decided I'd go ahead and race on Sunday because afterwards I'll be so tired from getting up so early and driving and racing and then driving back home that I'll sleep a good 8 or 9 hours on the plane - hopefully. But just in case, I'm going to bring some sleeping pills.

Yesterday on my lunch ride, I rode late in the day. I headed out with only an hour left before I had to pick up the kids. If I'd gone earlier I could of ridden longer and more leisurely. But sometimes it's so nice to work from home all by myself in the quiet. Anyway, I took the cross bike out without any tools or pump or tubes or water or keys. I went with ID and my phone and just hoped nothing would go wrong.

And then I rode fast and hard up all the stuff that I don't usually ride fast and hard on. I still feel bad about quitting last week's race. I rode like it was penance for my sins. And I didn't stop, except once at the drinking fountain for a quick drink. But I did say hi to the lady who walks her 6 dogs every wednesday and to the other rider who was out there sneaking a ride in.

I suffered for my sins and then I felt better.

And then I picked up the kids, worked some more, tried to flush the fish down the toilet and made dinner.

Fish and Rabbits and Bathrooms

All of our fish are dead. There were 4 or 5 of them and they all apparently died yesterday. When I got home from work with the kids the house smelled rotten. I thought it was something in the trash, so I took it out. But the house continued to smell.

After lighting incense and walking around the house smelling the foulness for a few more hours I tracked it down in Sam's room and saw that all the fish were floating around dead and stuck to the filter. And smelly.

Yuck.

We left them dead and smelly in there all night because neither of us wanted to deal with it.

So this morning Morgan got them all out and put them in the toilet. I sure didn't want to do it. They were all white and gooey and smelly.

I found them still there later in the day today and flushed them all down - except for one, which won't go down. I flushed him like 4 times and still he stays in the bowl. And now the toilet is stopped up, fish bodies stuck in the pipes I guess.

None of us are using that toilet now.

The kids poured way too much fish food in mistakenly a few days ago and gucked up the tank. I guess maybe the fish couldn't breath or something or their little bodies got coated with gook. I saw one dead the other day, but I figured the others would eat the body like they normally do. But then the smell came. And then death.

When I was a kid I killed my rabbit mistakenly. Her name was Francis. I left her in her cage in the back yard, in the hot sun and went over to my friend's house for the afternoon. I thought the tree shade would be enough, but when I got home there she was - fried. She had a tiny bloody nose and it looked like she'd tried to gnaw her way out of the cage.

I remember laying in bed, crying for weeks. Francis was dead and it had been my fault. I was going to go to hell. Poor Francis.

And then there was the time my other rabbit, Thumper, jumped off my shoulder onto the ground and broke her leg. We brought her to the vet and they operated on her. They put a little pin in her leg and then a cast. It was $750 for the operation and cast. I remember vividly because my parents fought about it. My dad was livid that a $10 rabbit had a $750 pin and cast on it's leg.

I think my mom wanted to help make me feel better for killing the other rabbit.

We put it in the bath tub upstairs so that I could take care of it and make sure it was ok. You know, feed it and pet it and sing to it and just be with it. When we were downstairs we could hear it thumping its cast around in the tub. My parents would look at each other and roll their eyes.

Soon it got to be too much for them, all that thumping around all day long.

My mom decided to put it in the garage in a box until she could get the cage cleaned out. She was in the house talking to our neighbor when she heard a ruckus in the garage. And when she went out to check, she saw the neighbor's dog laying on the sidewalk with the dead rabbit body in front of him and he was licking it. And the little cast was torn off.

Thumper was dead.

And then, there was the time when we had like 5 rabbits in various hutches in the yard and the neighbor's dogs broke in and killed them all. My sister who was five at the time, let our dog Ralph out into the yard because he was barking so much. And as she walked into the yard she saw the little bodies scattered across the deck and play yard.

She let out this blood curdling scream and I jumped up from watching scooby-do to run out and see. I remember the dogs just laying there relaxing after their fun as our dog walked around the yard whimpering and sniffing the dead bodies. Ralph and the rabbits had been good friends.

I'm wondering if I should plunger the toilet with the little fish bodies in there. Or wait for Morgan to come home so he can do it.

Welcome to the Jungle

Ok, I'll get right down to the nitty gritty. Yesterday's course was some jacked up, fucked up shit.



Let's start with the pre-race / warm-up lap. I did one too many. I only DID one mind you, but I think had I gone out there blind I would have hung on a bit longer and tighter maybe. Or maybe not. But ignorance is bliss and hindsight is twenty, twenty and who knows if the moon's a balloon.



Anyway, one.



One time falling up the big run up. One time over the log with a face plant. One time sliding on the ground and around the the tree turns with the giant hidden roots in the brown baby powder dirt.

One time up the u-turn, which I mistakenly ran up and then tried to re-mount while turning and running at the top. But couldn't get the feet back in on the way down the hill and slipped out and plopped down on my hoo haw onto the top tube, and rode down the hill like that till I had enough sense to drag my feet to make my bike stop.


(photo by anthony)

And the girl behind me shouted OH cOMe ON! in a perturbed, get out of my way kind of voice. Yeah, like I'm riding on my hoo haw on purpose.

Anyway...

You get the picture - rolling around on the ground and riding on the hoo haw more then really doing it the right way. Where was my clown wig when I needed it.



Afterwards I had a few hours without kids running around to take my mind off things so I dozed in the camp chair and thought about ice cream and puppy dogs for a while.



And I thought about the previous night when we'd gone to the Team Oakland cocktail party for a few hours and then headed over to the school auction, where I tended bar and drank and bid on items we really didn't need. And then for some reason we came home and watched Saturday night live and did some other stuff and then went to sleep around 2am I think.

All in the name of fun.



Ok back to the race.

We started, we raced, I fell, I ran, I sighed, I drooled, I heaved, I slid, I dismounted, I threw up in my mouth a little, I mounted, and oh I don't know ... I could see Rita right ahead of me, so I was right where I usually am in most races but my goal had changed during the race and turned into just trying to not get hurt which had taken the place of the usual goal of just having fun.


(photo by anthony)

So somewhere in the 3rd or 4th lap, I quietly slipped away, under the tape and started walking back. And all along the course everyone wanted to help me with my mechanical, but I waved at them and smiled and kept walking.



And finally someone near the run up said, aw yes, you had a bio mechanical meltdown. And I thought, why yes, that's it and I continued along across past the pit to the tent.

As I was crossing over the course to the tent someone said, isn't that Princess Leia? And I said yes and he said looks like you lost your light saber and I mentioned my bio mechanical meltdown. And then, all of a sudden there was a small group of my soon to be new teammates, and some others making sure I was alright and making fun of me and handing me beer and I was having fun again.



Afterwards I went and laid down under the tent to drink my beer and rationalize bio mechanical meltdowns with mwh. And Dave pointed out how our tent was in between Shelia Moon's and Pen Velo's and how they both had tables and kegs and water and decorations and their gu's and clifbars and fruit and pastries were all neatly organized and lined up straight on their tables with tablecloths but our crap was kind of thrown all over the place.



But we're from Oakland, someone said. It's as it should be. And then someone from Pen Velo came over and fed me grapes while I was lying on the blanket.

Have fun, deal done, on the west we run. Don't matter where you from, if you older young. Seesaw, we roll, like ooh-la-la and your hoo haw.