Downtown Livin'

Last night C and I met the parents downtown. It was fairly early, Sunday night on Tejon Street. We were standing outside when they came, a whole gang of guys on bikes. They looked rough and circled around the street. One guy went down the street backwards, showing his mad skills, another one cruised the block on one wheel. They weren't wearing helmets or protecitve gear, just wife-beaters. They weren't terrible scarey, but kind of loud and I found myself clutching my bag a bit tighter. C and I were walking back home when I could hear them coming behind us - they were traveling the wrong way down Tejon, and on the sidewalk, which is against the law. C darted to the side of a restaurant to read the menu, which was a perfect diversion to get out of their way without looking scared. They passed us without incident and then...kept pedaling down the street.
What causes a man to desire to ride a bike in a pack with his dawgs? Do they all have revoked licenses? Can't afford real wheels? Like to feel the cool breeze of the evening air on their face? Why are the bikes so little? Is it supposed to emphasize their manliness? I don't get it.

Please not me

Today I went to a fashion show.... don't be too impressed. It was a work fashion show. Some of my co-workers were invited to be a part of it. I thought it would be entertaining to watch them strut their stuff down the runway. They've been joking about it for weeks. One of the guys has a bet; he gets $5 for every hip thrust he accomplishes on the runway. It was a forum for the courthouse to show appropriate vs inappropriate work attire. I arrived to find a lighted walk way. An emcee rattled off the do's and dont's of the productions, but the sound quality was bad and I was left to wonder whether or not they were encouraging the mini-skirt and pink pumps or whether they were frowning upon the exposed bra straps and, in one case, a butt crack.
I suppose it was all in good fun - but it was the kind of work event that compares to a drunken Christmas party - except everyone was sober today. My judge - the judge that I stand before on a regular basis, nervous that he will find fault in me because of some unruly probationer, stripped down to a wife beater and Timberlands, complete with a large gold chained $ replica .
All of the attendees received raffle tickets. I took one and shoved it in my pocket. I don't win raffles. At the end of the show they explained that had gifts to the raffle card winners. I lean over to my friend, "I always hope they don't call my number - I'd rather not win, than have to go up there to collect a prize." "oh," she says, "that's a lucky number."
And so there I sat, through bouquets of flowers, jewelry, and a gift card to Wal-Mart...."please not me, please not me, please not me."
"And finally, a gift card to the dress barn!"
I lean over to my friend, "I've never been there, I have a problem with the name, makes it feel gross."
"the raffle ticket # is: 475125"
I look down at my ticket in unbelief... "please not me, please not me, oh shoot that's me!"
My friend leans over, "that's you."
I hopped up and did a fake - oh yeah-I won something-I'm so excited-the dress barn!-face and briskly walked down the very runway I snickered at. I felt my face get bright red.
I hate winning. Strange really - I feel the same way about calling a radio station for concert tickets and having to shout the call letters. I won Dave Matthews tickets once and they made me repeat my excited, "I can't believe I won - thank 99.9!" because the first couple of times weren't excited enough.
I also feel this way about fishing. The whole while secretly hoping I will never feel a tug on my line and have to deal with reeling it in and grabbing the fish and feeling bad about it being hooked despite what they say about no nerves and no pain.
I'd much rather wish I had won or caught a fish and leave the same way I came.
I don't know how much the gift card is for... maybe a free something-or-another will change my mind about the barn.

The Climb

I was recently at the gym. It's been awhile - I hate that I make progress on muscles and better time on the treadmill, and with a couple of terrible weeks it's back to square one. I've been sick this last week, a cough, perfect reason to roll over when the alarm goes off.
So, I'm on Tread walking briskly, so as to avoid an embarrassing lost lung episode, when I notice a skinny armed woman on the stairs. I can never do the stairs because I get uncoordinated. One wrong move and doom. I noticed her skinny arms because I want skinny arms. Don't we always notice that in other people? But a second look at her and I noticed her arms weren't just skinny, they were bony. The more I watched her the more concerned I became. I noticed her tiny thin legs and her bony shoulders. It wasn't until she got off the stairs, over to the wall, where she put her head between her legs, that I realized she was text book anorexic. My heart felt for her as she looked at herself in the mirror. How did she see herself? Did she notice her bony frame when she saw her reflection - or were there flaws and flabby skin; did her face look too round? What was more concerning was that after her short break she got back on the stair machine... and kept climbing. I prayed for her, that God would comfort her and her quest and that He would help her see her beauty.

I felt kind of ashamed for my time with Tread - I wonder if I'd be at risk for being like her, if only I was more self-disciplined. Exercise is good for the body, mental health and mind, but when it comes down to it, my motivations are the same as skinny-armed chick, the desire to look in the mirror and see something else.

Bargain Bin

I love to find a deal and cut corners where I can. Because of this, I am rather fond of the dollar store. Decorations for parties, dish towels, seasonal decorations, gag gifts, car protectant, and gift bags all at the dollar store....for a dollar. I was rather excited when Target started their own dollar bin. Random, fun, junk for cheap (although, may it be recognized, that the $1 bin is now a $2.50 bin - inflation?).
Before my big trip to London, I stopped at the Target bargain bins to find a whole travel theme. I bought some travel pouches, perfect for organizing, and a fun green umbrella. Kelly green, big fan lately, and perfect for the trip. I had been looking around for a deal and this was the best bargain by far. Unfortunately, I only had one occassion to pull it out on the trip.
This morning the weather man said there may be light showers today. I grabbed my umbrella on my way out the door. As I walked down my front steps I felt a light drizzle - "yea, it's spring showers!" Within the few short blocks to my work, the sprinkle had become a downpour - the sky gray and wind blowing. Ugh - I hate parking so far from the building. I pull out my umbrella and thank the Lord for blessing me with remembering to grab it; I spent a good chunk of time on my hair today.
I head out into the rain. Aye aye aye, it's really coming down. Before I can cross my first intersection, my umbrella blows over and is now only a large sculpture to the sky instead of a water protectant. I spend most of my walk trying to hold on the the wings of the canopy to keep it from blowing up. It was hilarious. I attempted to lean into the wind and hold on to the umbrella, along with all the other stuff I had in my hands. It is a fight. I started to get the giggles, which went into a full out loud laugh. It was such a struggle. I gingerly crossed the large intersection, trying not to let my laugh get the best of me, and noticed the lights on in the courthouse, I can only imagine what I looked like to the dry people inside. As I approaced the building, while still cracking up, a woman pointed out the shamble of an umbrella I was holding, turned up in opposing directions. "So much for the dollar bins," I explain. You get what you pay for.