Hello, friends.

People are always telling me that I have bad luck. I simply don't think this is true. Actually, I think I'm quite lucky.

Example: I was riding along, enjoying my morning commute, when some asshole hits my rear fender and send me flying over my handle bars. I landed squarely on my back, knocking the wind out of me. The asshole sped off, leaving me on the ground. I propped myself up on a piece of broken glass, which was 10 times more freaky for me than getting hit.

After the accident, I thought I fixed my bike pretty well, but alas, this was just not the case. I was riding home around midnight a few nights later when my bike just suddenly... stopped. This time, instead of just flying over the handle bars, my bike flipped, too. For a minute I couldn't find my legs. I had to touch them to make sure they were there. Turns out, the bolt that holds my front fender and brake to my frame was missing, presumably from the previous accident. I bet years of grit and rust were holding it in place til that fateful night. The brake fell between my spokes, stopping the bike immediately. I scrapped myself up a little... a chunk missing from my hand, hole in my hoodie, but nothing serious.

I did something kind of stupid to get myself home... I had a bunch of rubber bands, and I put them on where the bolt should have been and rode home like a grannie on downers. I wouldn't recommend doing that, but whatever. It worked.

Some people, when considering my history of weird/bad things happening to me, might consider this bad luck. I, on the other hand, think these people are just whiney. Both times could have been a lot worse, especially the last one. I was riding as fast as I could given the ginormous size of my bike, and I ride with a heavy chain and lock around my waist. I landed in a way that my chain was logged between my hip bone and the concrete. It hurt for days. Imagine how bad it would have been if I cracked something. I also could have broken open my skull, got hit by a car, broke some teeth, got a gross infection from the gross street glass... the list could go on. Instead, I suffered a broken phone and some cool wounds. I think I won.

So go on and whine, you whiney fucks. Complain about your luck, my luck, how doomed and damned we all are. I may have tattooed myself with Lady Luck, but I didn't specify which kind. With out bad luck, you'd never appreciate the good.

Besides, any day I don't die is a good day, anyway.

My bike and I are fine. Better than ever, actually. I fixed a ton of stuff on Bitch. She's a fucking ox. A fox of an ox. You know the big muscular chick from Fable 2? Yeah, that's totally Bitch.

In other news, I've decided to move to Austin, TX. My life is in major upheaval right now, and I'm trying my best not to freak the fuck out when my plans have to change. I've been spending this whole day meditating and removing negativity from my thoughts. When I do this, I picture negative energy as this intense red light all over my body. I go through my body collecting this light into a big red ball. In the end, I open my hands and let it rest there. I then picture the red fading from the ball until it is glowing a bright white. I fill it with all the good things in my life... loved ones, bike rides, nachos, lentil soup... and then I place it in my heart. Afterward I always feel light headed and kind of unreal. I imagine that I'll be doing a lot of meditating before I move.

By the way, the girl is totally mine. Score.

We used to see each other years ago. I wanted to investigate a relationship then, but I just wasn't ready. We stopped seeing each other, but never stopped thinking about each other. Now that we are actually giving us a chance, I am happy for the break we had. We both had a bit of growing to do.

If satisfaction is just a chemical reaction, I'm on a bender.


I have to make sure to have some good times with my bitches before I go.




I also have to get my Midwestern pride tattoo done before I go. Epic.

I'll miss you, Chicago!



Edit: I finally broke my Barbie watch. Now my wrist looks silly.

Oh, and I forgot to tell you guys about Mushroom Night... My buddy Dashi came over and we ate some shrooms... and I developed a crush on my favorite NPR mug. A real crush. I couldn't look at it with out giggling and blushing. Dash kept putting it closer to me and I would just giggle my ass off. We were making a video and she put the mug by my face. I didn't notice it for a while, but when I did, I burst into squeals and screamed "It's too cute!"

When I was sober, I deleted all of the videos. No one should make videos on drugs. EVER. I also broke my mug the next day. Luckily, my crush on an inanimate object was purely drug-fueled, because that would have been hard to deal with.


And seriously, guys... seriously... loves it.