ride on

There are some people who ride around on their bikes like total dicks. I never thought I was one of them. Most of all because I'm clumsy. I've fallen off my bike fixing my hat. I have absolutely no motivation to be a risk-taker. Yet, today i was the dick. Or the "bitch," as the kindly pedestrian shouted at me after I collided with him in an intersection, which I was crossing and he was standing in.

I felt terribly. I couldn't get around him amidst the construction, and as I'm realizing that he's making no effort to move I'm braking with all my might. By the time I reached him, I had stopped. But he reached out and grabbed my handlebars anyway and started yelling. I said, "Whoa, i'm sorry. I was trying to get around you. Why are you in the street?!" To which he boldly responds that I'm "the one on the fucking bike, bitch!" Fair point, but did he have to be so horrible about it?

I don't, by any means, think that because I'm on two wheels, everyone should yield to me. But I do kind of expect you to move out of the way when you're needlessly in the street and it's obvious that I can't get around you, nor stop in time. What I don't expect is that you'll grab my handlebars and then verbally assault me. The worst part is that he seemed totally normal--just your regular guy on his way to work. What kind of person is that angry before he even gets to the office? I guess the type that nearly got run over by a bike.

But is it just my imagination, or are people becoming increasingly less tolerant of others? It seems like we've all started assuming the worst of one another. Maybe he thought it somehow pleased me to fuck with him a little. It didn't. At all. In fact, as I walked my bike the rest of the way to the office, whimpering to myself, I wasn't sure what I felt worse about, that I'd almost hurt that guy or he thought I was just some entitled bitch. Either way, here's to being kinder--and more cautious.

pretty is as pretty does

The disco ball at the Grundle Club (title for Whitney)

Despite how it may appear, the photo above was taken during a very awesome night. All the action was happening off screen, but for some reason I was cognizant of this shot capturing something. I just didn't realize at the time, it was my feelings. 

My best friend's bachelorette party was that night and it was every bit the regression to university levels of excess and hilarity one would hope for (except no one woke up with a friend-of-a-friend's underwear in their houseplant--not naming any names). But i felt off.

What started my downward spiral was something embarrassingly shallow. I used to have very long, very natural looking hair. It was traditionally pretty. I guess I was traditionally pretty. But as i've gotten older, that hasn't seemed as important as embracing the self I feel most comfortable as. That self is someone who should have a platinum bob. It suits me. But I'll admit, maybe I was prettier with long hair. It's not something I think about a ton. Just from time to time when I allow leftover adolescent insecurities to take over. Or when someone calls me Lady Gaga. Which I have to say, happens a lot more than I'd like. 

Don't get me wrong, Lady Gaga is cool. But if there's one thing she's not, it's pretty. So imagine if the one person you're constantly compared to isn't at all attractive. It's hard to totally write off. On this particular night out in Baltimore, I might as well have been Gaga for all the attention I got. I started to think that maybe I'd been kidding myself. Maybe I wasn't so confident. Maybe this isn't who I am. Worst of all, I was disappointed in myself for being bothered by what some preppies thought of me. 

Because really, I don't care about having the approval of people I don't know. But that night, I took the comments to heart. I felt deflated, like I was just some weird girl trying to fit in with these women who are so special and so gorgeous. I suddenly feared that they, too, would see that something had changed. That I was somehow no longer worthy of them.

Of course it passed, as meaningless self-doubt typically does. I just can't believe that I'm 27 and still having moments of such incredible insecurity. Will I ever grow out of it? One can only hope. In the meantime, thank goodness I have friends who are nothing but wonderful, even if I'm not so wonderful to myself sometimes.