bitter disappointment tastes like chocolate

I think adults should teach their young this from a very early age, and then, when they totally let their kids down, they should demand to know, "Can you taste the chocolate?" And when the kid says, "No," the adult should yell, "Well you're not really disappointed then, ARE YOU?!"

That way, we're teaching kids to excel in all things.

beer

I love it. And yet, I drink it-- or any alcohol-- quite seldomly, for no other reason than the fact that I am a total wimp. What used to be a simple appetizer in my drinking feast, one beer makes me drowsier than Nyquil. Sad, sad, sad.

There was a time when I drank well; which is to say I excelled at the art of pounding said brewskies. Alcohol just didn't affect me. I mean, not in a bad way; as everyone knows, alcohol only has positive side-effects. Duh. Back then it made me more attractive, smarter, and doggone it, people really liked me when I drank. I was damn witty. I uttered only perfectly formed sentences with the most brilliant articulation-shunnigton. In fact, I believe I excelled in the art of polyglotism. I will admit that I don't think it ever made me a better driver, but I wouldn't know because I never drove while even slightly inebriated. So nya-nya-nya. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)

But the fact remains that while I once was quite the early-20s drinking expert, I rarely drink now. Socially, yes, of course, I will politely, publicly make an ass of myself. At home? I can make a perfect ass of myself without the booze, thanks much. That said, I've had the same bottle of vodka for 5 years. Same goes for the rest of the fully-stocked bar. I'm told it never goes bad, so I keep it. It is it's own preservative. And so it sits there, all sad-eyed, depressed and ignored. Poor babies.

Conversely, the beer I've only had around since October-- the Halloween party. Apparently the case of Fat Tire I got for the party was a bad choice. The 30 or so 10 year-olds took no interest in it. Neither did their parents for that matter.

I was told recently by a friend that it's just odd for women to drink beer. It just wasn't "ladylike," I think was the word she used. Of course, she wasn't stating this factoid to offend me (as I happened to be sipping an ale at the time); I think she thought more of me as "one of the guys." So you know, it's not that I'm unladylike for drinking a beer. It's that I'm already kinda butch to begin with. (What the...?!)

I mention all of this because... well... I am drinking a beer. Right now, as I type this, I am drinking the same beer I have been for the last two hours. And I like it. And in another hour, I'll be just about done with it and I'll tell you this: I am not butch for drinking it. I am so totally one of the cool kids.

Now please excuse me while I finish the dishes, fold the laundry, feed the dogs, change a diaper, vacuume the hall and scrub a toilet before I completely pass out. Ehhh, screw it. I'm passing out anyway.

Kevin Spacey, where are you??

I'm putting this out there, because frankly, I want to know. I need a little honesty in my life, and damn it, I think we all deserve some answers.

What the hell happened to Kevin Spacey?

Anyone? Anyone?

Wasn't he one of the hottest actors on the scene just a few short years ago, and now-- what? I mean, did I even spell his name correctly? He went from being that incredible actor in Seven, the one that scared the crap out of me and made me think death by deadly sin was inevitable; to then being the sole reason why I love the movie The Negotiator so much. Him and Sammy L. And American Beauty-- GAH! I ask you, was there ever a better potential pedophile? Really. I mean, what sixteen year old virgin WOULDN'T have offered herself to up the Altar of Spacey? And then...there were others... The Usual Suspects, LA Confidential, and the ne'er to be forgotten K-Pax, which oddly, reminds me of K-Crap, which is what the reviews called it. Then that David Gale movie, which took a completely different approach to public relations, and raised the question, "Kevin Spacey, are you gay or what?" (His answer was evasive. Whatever.) And now...

Now he's that actor I refer to as "that bald guy."

According to his filmography, he's been in a few movies since then and is destined to appear in Superman Returns as Lex Luthor. Great. A movie I could give a rock-solid crap about.*sigh*

That's really all I had to say.

brrrrrr….

The weather has changed. Apparently the Universe decided that the temperature must be lower in December than November, simply as a matter of principle. That, or knowing that I had inadequate riding gear, dropped the temperature by 70 degrees just as I was leaving the house.

In the words of 101 Dalmatians,
My nose was froze.
My toes was froze.

Wanting to turn around and go back was not an option for AT LEAST 15 yards. At that point, not turning around became a steady argument with myself. For about 2 miles.

And then I simply wanted to die.

How do people in Siberia do it? CRAP it was cold. There was no one out there, it was 7 AM, after 15 minutes my hands were two solid blocks of ice. Nobody was there to see me turn around. No one was there to see me fail. Except me. And ffs, I had already defined chickening out as survival.

Just as I turned around, just as I hit the other side of the street... two small groups of riders passed me on the opposite side. Long-fingered riding gloves. Proper attire. Smirking.

Flippin' snobs.

A view of the bitter cold on my ride. You can't really see the snow, per se, but the sky is just thinking it. You know it is.

World AIDS Day

"WASHINGTON (AP) - Money is available, treatment is better and much of the mystery is gone from prevention, treatment and care of AIDS.

Yet, more people will become infected with the AIDS virus and will die from the disease itself in 2005 than in any previous year, the World Bank said Wednesday."

...and this is why you should support the LifeCycle. AIDS bad, cure good, cycling will make it better.
Read about World AIDS Day.