Miss me?

I'm back!

Well, kind of... I guess I'll work backwards again this time to catch you up. Oh no wait, that won't work, it'll just be too confusing!

I spent the first half of the week feeling seriously sleep deprived. (I know, the second half of the week has only just begun.) Wait, I need coffee if I'm going to do this properly.

Okay, got that brew. Now...

Sunday night I got home very late from drinking with Kurt and Ando, and then Stu called me, so I didn't get to sleep until about 0300h. I woke at 0600h, and intended to go back to sleep, but the sky was relatively clear and, as rain had been forecast for the entire week, I rode to uni anyway. So that was three hours sleep.

I worked reasonably well on Monday, despite the fatigue. When I left, it pissed down rain on me, but I decided to ride my bike home anyway. I can't say why; I was planning on driving to uni on Tuesday so I could've just collected my bike, but I desperately wanted to ride. This turned out to be a good decision, because it has rained all week.

Monday evening was all about gnocchi and a quick shower so I could drive to Wayne's place to see The Science of Lance Armstrong on the discovery channel, with all the boys. The show was okay, but the company was awesome. They have a great group dynamic; they're always shit stirring but try to keep each other out of trouble. After a while I got convinced to partake in the wine, and I ended up crashing in the spare room some time shortly before dawn, because I was in no condition to drive home.

Tuesday was all about trying to finish my fellowship application, which was made difficult by the fact that I kept nearly falling asleep. Then I kept receiving text messages from certain men who appeared to have developed a sudden interest in me. Later I headed off to work, where I accomplished little but got to play with cars for a bit.

Speaking of cars, I got some new front tyres on mine, and I can corner much faster now!

Wednesday was a bit of a sleep-in for me, and I caught the bus to uni, because the weather was awful. I finalised my application and did some other work that wasn't as urgent, and went home rather late, catching the CityCat from Guyatt Park instead of uni for no good reason. I took a long, hot, soak in the tub, quickly called Stu to say "g'day, ride safe" and went to bed.

I woke at 0730h feeling good for a change (must be that early night for a change) and decided to drive to uni because I had an idea I might head out later. I spent half my morning walking around uni, trying to find exactly where the JPs were located, as I kept getting sent from building to building, and no one seemed to quite know. The JP who certified my academic transcript actually recognised me as someone who went to primary school with her son. Now that is a bit scary. It was all good, though, and my application is submitted.

Now I am just waiting for my other supervisor to finish his reference, so that I can submit it for him.

More chocolate! Dan just gave me a choc biscuit, and I'm pretty happy about that. I just realised that the last few days have actually not been as interesting as I thought. Aren't you glad you waited to read my blog?

Inspiration.

I just came back from my massage. Scott was brilliant as normal, and funny. When I walked in, he laid out a hand towel and indicated that he'd brought a special towel to cover myself this week!

That's not the inspiration. The inspiration is the guy that I saw out on the track at the end of my massage. He had a prosthetic left leg. His technique was beautiful, so smooth and elastic, and his prosthetic had clearly been matched very well to his right leg. It was lovely to watch (although I probably looked like a crazy stalker girl).

Popular demand.

It's typical... I take a day off, and suddenly people are hassling me about what's going on in my life. People, I'm not that interesting, really.

So anyway, it's full on right now, because I'm trying to finalise a scholarship application, and I'm doing a good job of it because I really need the money.

I'll finish that and blog later tonight. Better quickly post something on hippy on tour as well, I suppose.

le Tour...

I just had a cool thought... when TdF starts, I can watch it, late at night, while on the phone to Stu - so I won't be missing out on any additional sleep! I just need to move my TV back into my room.

Working backwards...

I wasn't going to blog anything today, for no other reason than that I wanted to get a lot of work done. However...

I just closed my Commonwealth Bank Award Saver account, because they were charging me fees, and I didn't like them at all. The two customer service workers were currently with clients so I took a seat on the couch. Then this horrible, strangely dressed woman decides to stand in front of me. I explained politely (excusing myself) that I was in the queue. She told me off and asked how she was supposed to know that. I ignored that she had been rude, and invited her to sit; she said that she didn't like to. Her English was phenomonenally bad... I put her stupid bitch status down to poor mastery of the language.

I had a lunch meeting with all three of my supervisors and not much got established but it wasn't scary, so that was a good thing. Andrew might be getting a new job overseas next year.

I am a bit tired today because I didn't get to sleep until after 0300h; yep, Stu called. Then I got up at 0600h to meet Abby for a bike ride, but he stood me up. My journey up Mt Gravatt was 8:19 this time... and I think I've got a mild throat infection. It'll be better next time!

Last night I went to the pub, the pizza place, the pub and the cafe again, with Kurt and Ando. I believe Kurt muttered something under his breath that I should not have heard.

Earlier I had a fight with my folks, because they baby me. I probably deserve this, because I moved back home at age 23. However, that was due to finances and a general hate of boys, rather than because of any help that I needed with decision making.

My car gets new tyres tomorrow. I am not at all enthused about this - I would rather be buying bike gear.

It was sunny this morning but it has rained ever since, and I do not like the idea of getting rained on the whole way home, with this suspected illness.

I found out this morning that I won my cat at the crit... but it doesn't count because there were only two women entrants. So I guess that means that the chick who blew past me at the end was actually a lap behind.

I spent half of my Sunday doing a stupid "Hard" level Sudoku puzzle. I blame Abby for this. My scholarship application is still not complete (but all my washing is done). I even put a nice, big, toasty warm, pistachio coloured waffle-weave blanket on my bed. As a result, we are having warmer mornings.

This is a lot of vague arbitrary bull excrement; however no one tried (hard enough) to kill me on my ride in to uni so I have no stories to tell. (Did I mention I hate Prados?)

I am going to work now, as I have no excuse not to.

From left field...

This one is really strange. Mystical, really. Or maybe mythical.

If I spoke about the pink and golden webs of light, stretching out across our land, would anyone understand my reference?

Please comment if you do.

Murarrie Crit the second.

After working her way up to about sixth place and helping to reel in a few breakaways, Tam finds herself mysteriously in the lead with under two laps to go...

It was a really, really cold morning again; this time, however, I was armed (legged?) with freshly bought leg-warmers and full gloves, some home-made booties (cut-up footy socks) and a singlet under my jersey, along with the usual gear. I didn't see any other cyclists on my way out to Murarrie and I took Newnham Rd again because I figured that what doesn't kill me can only make me stronger. Despite leaving late (almost 0640h) I still got there way too early.

I paid my money and waited, passing the time chatting to George, one of the wheelies. He's a pretty cool guy; he has a great sense of humour and even bags himself out, and it's quite humbling. Such as when I was complaining about cold feet and showing off my nice warm booties, and he said, "You could just be like me, and not feel 'em."

I was a bit nervous this week, because I really had no excuses for getting dropped or anything. I only managed one slice of toast, so I sucked down a GU before the race, lined up, clipped in and went.

I didn't want to sit at the back like last time; unfortunately, I think I'm a bit too considerate with letting people in, so I progressively worked my way back, over the first five laps or so. I quickly realised that the back straight was well protected from the wind, yet the bunch didn't seem to go very fast; so I lined myself up on the outside, ducked out and sprinted to the front, and dropped back in where the bunch was splitting up a bit just past the corner. I did this a few times throughout the race, and I was really happy that I was holding my own up towards the front.

The first breakaway attempt was about halfway through the race; about three guys took off. No one seemed to want to catch them, except the guy in front of me; when he jumped to the inside and took off, I chased him. Crisis averted... we dragged the bunch back together. It was pretty exciting and my first significant contribution! Of course, it set the standard; twice more during the race, I was expected to do this!

There was a bit of confusion when we heard "three to go" as we had only been racing for half an hour. At the end of the next lap, this was corrected, and we were told we had ten minutes still. Race leaders comfortably dropped back and settled in; unfortunately this made the bunch pretty damn messy and it was difficult to find a wheel without getting in someone's way.

I was back too far! So I headed forward on the back straight again, and I noticed some guys jump on my wheel and follow me. I was sitting in sixth, coming into the last corner of the third fast lap. I wasn't planning on contesting the sprint, but I was in a pretty good position.

Next corner, up the little hill and into the wind again. The first three guys suddenly dropped back. "Uh oh, this is not good..." I was in second, with no way of backing up the leader as I was pretty sure that I wasn't strong enough to take a turn. I prayed for someone to get past us... and then the leader dropped back and I found myself taking a turn, the only non-junior female in the race, with a lap and a half to go. You guys suck!

It hurt, bad. I couldn't believe it... the guys were deliberately shafting me, it was quite obvious. To make it worse, they decided to breakaway just at the same time as I decided it was too bad and I needed to drop back, so they passed at very high speed, and I was left struggling to catch someone's wheel. By the third corner, I was out, and I spent the last lap just cruising along.

Like I said, I wasn't planning on contesting the sprint, but it would've been nice to finish with the bunch. I know it's all tactics, but I really didn't think they would've let me out the front at all. It was just mean of them, and I'm pretty sure they did it deliberately, only I don't understand why - I presume it's some kind of a boy thing.

Hahaha... watch out boys, in a few weeks you'll put me there, and I'll blast off to finish with a beautiful half-lap lead! (And then you'll feel very small and insignificant.) It was fun, and I am learning all the time!

George (the wheelie, not my dog) told me that the Commissaire had asked the wheelies if they could delay their race, and let the juniors go first. This was because parents of the juniors had complained about how long they had to wait, and they had to go shopping, or something suitably lame. The wheelies agreed (because they really had no choice, but also because they're good blokes) even though it's obviously a lame excuse - I mean, the shops are open all bloody weekend.

I told the Commissaire that I thought the parents should buy the wheelies a coffee, and he agreed. But when one of the parents came along, and I made the same comment, she scoffed, "No, you should be buying us a coffee, because we're the ones who have to stand around and wait." You stupid, insignificant woman, did you think the wheelies had nothing better to do? I had to wait for the elites and Cat 1 to finish; why should your junior on his/her oversized and overpriced bike take priority over the wheelies. I bet she drives a Prado.

I waited around to watch the wheelies race, because not many people do, and I really admire them. Two of the gents had been racing for about ten years, so after a few laps, they took off and George couldn't catch them. He kept going but, and ITT'd the last of it. All three had dropped the fourth gent much earlier, but he kept going too. It would've been amazing if there were more wheelies racing... especially on the corners!

I enjoyed a mocha from the van, while waiting, and chatted to some others who were hanging around. Of course, I've forgotten their names, except for Mel, but they were really cool people. So was the wife of the president of Balmoral CC.

Eventually I went to congratulate George, and some coach from Balmoral came up to chat to us; he invited me to train there on Wednesday mornings at 0530h (ouch!) with the women's and elite juniors' teams. Of course that would be after my late work night, so who knows. Soon enough the other wheelies joined the conversation.

The coach then went on to chat to us about training; eventually telling me I needed to be doing about 350km per week. Excuse me? I don't have time for that shit, and I don't need a coach telling me to make time for that shit. I'm cycling faster now than I ever was before, and it's because I work hard when I'm on the bike, and I rest hard when I'm off it... So I argued that I couldn't do that, and he let me off with 300km. Er... try about 150km, dude, max.

He queried how much gym work I do, explaining the importance of core strength. I explained that I'm a big fan of pilates. So he queried how much upper body work I do. I was almost offended at this point. It should be pretty obvious that I've got above average upper body strength. But I calmly explained that, as a circus performer, I had very good upper body strength.

His explanations of lactate threshold were a bit strange, and not at all like what I have learnt through my studies of exercise physiology. So I began to excuse myself and one of the wheelies rolled over to quickly ask me something (now back in his normal chair - these guys use good-old non-electric ones, so they get a decent workout). He asked me if I knew his daughter, Emma A.

As it turns out, Emma was my tissu instructor last term. It's a small world. The rigging that she builds is constructed in his wheelchair workshop.

A whole bunch of guys tried to con me into racing this afternoon somewhere near Kingston. I was tempted to ask if they wanted me to lead them into the sprint again. I think I'll just have a snooze instead, so I've got fresh legs for mtb riding with Lotte tomorrow.

As I said earlier, what doesn't kill me can only make me stronger. I rode home along Newnham Rd, with my GU all gone, because I had eaten it when I thought I would ride home, before that coach got me. An elderly woman in a little Laser nearly killed me. The adrenaline rush was just what I needed to get up the last bitch of a hill on that street.

Out on Logan Rd, I suffered the usual quick-overtaking. However the couple in the car on my left (a turning lane) wound down their window, and the guy yells out, "Wow, that guy's a dickhead, what was he doing?" It cracked me up, and I had a chat to them, telling them I appreciated the fact that they were having a be-nice-to-cyclists day.

I think my home-hill is hurting less, these days. I also think my legs will be very, very unhappy tonight.

I can't handle this cold!

It's been snowing in SEQ, how insane is that? My alarm went off at 0800h this morning and the only reason I heard it was because I was already awake and listening for it, but too damn cold to get out of bed!

I had this awful dream about a necrotic disease that had attacked my hips and thighs and ankles. Maybe it was in my knicks? It was disgusting, I remember thinking my skin and fat tissue was just melting off. Ew!

Hope you weren't eating!

I forgot to mention yesterday that my chain fell off as I headed up to Marshall Rd. I was halfway up the hill when I realised I was approaching a red light in the big ring. Oops. So I panicked and attempted to change it and the chain promptly fell off, as it should have, given the gearing! But going up a hill, I didn't really have time to quickly shift back up and put the chain back on! I bailed, fixed it and kept going... and then had to start halfway up the hill. Abby was nice and he waited for me.

On the way home, I didn't want to have to chase him; I was not in the mood for the BLART Pursuit! So we met in the city and rolled home. I left uni late but still got there early despite a toilet stop on the way. The wind gusts were strong enough to nearly blow me over; fortunately when I hit Coro Dr they became tailwind gusts, and I found myself hooning along at 45 km/h with little to no effort!

Drivers seemed to be in a really crazy mood on the way home, and we had several not-too-serious incidents. While stopped at the Marshall Rd intersection, I turned and gave a big thumbs up to a bus driver who had been very patient with us, and he gave me a big grin. Abby said, "If you'd been in the sky blue, you really would've made his day."

Actually, everyone was in a crazy mood - Carl kept talking about knicks made of gladwrap and lace on a.b today (I won't add a link, because you don't want to see it, trust me!)...

Stu got his new Dutch SIM Card, so I can call him and it costs me a fortune and him nothing. Great. I shudder to think how far over my call cap I've gone already.

I have so many things to get done today, and most of them involve spending money that I don't have! Eeek!

Getting motivated!

It's a bit scary really... it's after 1400h and I haven't blogged yet, because I've been *gasp* working on my PhD. Perhaps I am unwell?

Paul beat me to blogging our "Great, looong morning commute"... it wasn't really that long, althought it probably doubled his journey.

I was running late, and therefore rode really fast to meet him. (He was nice in his blog and said I was on time, but I was late.) At the usual spot, I nearly got taken out by a truck, that merged on me so quickly that I had to drop back and coast with my left pedal up so I could get closer to the kerb. I'm used to this by now; it barely gets my heart rate up.

We copped the Mt Gravatt Central lights, and a conformadore or commode-door (er, Commodore) pulled up behind us, leaving about 2 inches of clearance between his bumper and Paul's freshly-trued rear wheel.

This was particularly annoying, and I felt it necessary to indicate to the driver that he was far too close, and I waved my arm as if to ask, "why?"

The lights changed, and we took off. Mr Wanker continued to drive right on Abby's wheel. Abby looked as if he would take off, so I told him to slow down, really slow down. I think we were heading through the intersection at about 12km/h. Mr Impatient Wanker eventually got the hint that we aren't going to move, and changed lanes, then merged back in front of us without clearing us, so we had to slam on the brakes and move very far left (and still there was not much clearance).

I don't like being a pain, and holding people up. But there is no road shoulder there and we have no option but to use the lane, so settle, wankstar! I may have made "cocknose" signals at him and yelled a bit. Hard to say, really.

The rest of the ride was fun, up via Boggo Rd jail and through to Dutton Park, and then the Reverse River Ride to uni. Paul implies that I make him work hard, but it's not true, he just bludges if I let him!

Scott had a coffee with me today; I didn't have a coffee, but he did, and we had a chat and sat in the sun. The crazy fella didn't bring a jumper today and tells me he wasn't cold on the bike but I don't believe him!

My associate supervisors won't return my phone calls or email and it's pissing me off. Plus, I went to write about my program and realised I didn't have the references I need, so I'm BibTeXing now. (EndNOTE is for pussies!)

I think Paul wants me to chase him home today, but I'm feeling a bit tired... I don't want to overdo it on a day I've upped my mileage. I talk about mileage now, which is funny, because I'm supposed to be "not training."

Hell on wheels... but not the movie.

I am very impressed that it took Bruce McDougall et al. "just three hours yesterday to compile a series of more than a dozen photographs showing cyclists endangering themselves and others". (Hell on wheels, The Daily Telegraph, June 22, 2005.)

On 25 May 05, I had two near-death experiences in the first seven minutes of my daily cycle commute; these were due to ignorance or impatience of drivers. My third near death experience occurred before the half hour mark.

Of course, given the circumstances, I wasn't able to take any photographs.

As a regular road user I have experienced inappropriate behaviour by motorists. Drivers frequently overtake me without indicating or changing lanes, even on multi-lane roads; they often fail to give adequate clearance when changing lanes in front of me; they fail to give way, particularly when pulling out of driveways, side streets and slip lanes.

Motorists will often follow too closely behind me, clearly to warn me that I am "too slow", even if I am moving at the same speed as the traffic in congested areas; often they will quickly swerve around me and then stop at the same red light that I was slowing for.

Still worse, I am regularly abused by drivers, who honk at me, swerve at me, yell profanities at me, throw things at me, and attempt to run me off the road. A commute with fewer than three near-misses involving a motorist is a very rare occurrence.

I always wear a helmet. I use a bell and lights. I always ride as far left as is practicable; unfortunately I occasionally need to claim a lane, when it is not safe to be passed within the lane, or when the gutter is filled with glass. I don't run red lights, and I stop at stop signs. I give way where required by law, and also when I'm pretty sure that a driver is not going to give way.

I even go out of my way to ensure that I do not block vehicles, for example when I am stopped at lights and there is a green arrow. I say hello to drivers stopped at lights, and wish them a good day. Some of those drivers even say hello back.

Roads Minister, Michael Costa, said, "Safety and courtesy are the priority."

I don't like to stereotype, as there are a lot of drivers who treat me with courtesy and respect as a road user. But read my above description and tell me: who is placing others "in mortal danger"? Who is "breaking the road code"? Who are the maniacs? Who needs education?

(For great words and links, see cfsmtb's blog entry.)

Hugging my pillow...

Well, I will be in the morning, anyway. It's going down to 6deg C overnight and I'm not impressed that this seems to happen on the mornings I plan on getting up early! The horrid Netti yellow jacket may make an appearance... nah, I'll just wear an undershirt. It's the River Ride tomorrow, but with a twist... we're doing it in reverse. *GASP* Yep, in reverse, meeting at Mitre 10 again, at 0640 this time. It will be interesting to see how much longer it is than my normal commute.

I'm a little concerned, though. Paul has been talking about where he will stash a thermos and a hot water bottle on his body, for the ride. Further to that, he posted this dodginess on a.b (see original post):

Hi all,

Well, I did it. I went into Rebel & bought a BBB spoke key... My first 'bike repair/tuning' widget I've ever purchased (not counting tubes & levers...)

Can I stop once I start doing minor truing adjustments to my wheel. Will my wife come down to the shed one night, and find me bathed in degreaser, bike parts all over the place, gently stroking a skewer...??

Once I start minor mechanicals, will I be able to walk past other people's bikes without saying, "I just noticed your rear derailleur cable needs tightening..."

Absent Husband (who can't believe how excited he is about a $9 spoke key...)

Yes, this is a disturbing post indeed, and I feel much less enthused about getting up in the 6deg C darkness after reading it!

My ride home tonight was good. I got home in just under an hour, because I got way more green lights than normal. Of course this meant I got less rest, and it was harder work, but it paid off in the end. I also worked hard up the last hill; I convinced myself to do this by staying in the lane so I would delay the traffic if I went too slow.

Of course, I forgot entirely about picking up my car. The bitch cost me $360 and I had to go back and get her. She's going to cost me more on the weekend, when I get new tyres. She's a great car, but gee I'm glad I ride my bike most of the time!

Plans for the weekend... Murarrie Crit on Saturday? MTB in Daisy Hill with LotteBum on Sunday? Lots of sleep...

It's a lonely night. Stu is actually doing the cycle-tourist thing, rather than geekily hanging out in some town's internet cafe. TimC is not stalking me (online, of course... he may be right outside my window... aaarrgh!) and Paul appears to have gone to bed already. It's about my bed time, too. Goodnight.

Back on my bike!

Yay! I'm back on my bike today! I dropped my car in at the servo (bloody brake fluid leaking, needs main cyclinder replacement, $$$) and then rode to uni with a small side trip that made my commute precisely 28.00km.

The sunshine was long gone, but it wasn't raining, so that was good enough for me. The eternal optimist, I rejoiced that I didn't need to carry my night-riding glasses, because it was overcast enough to wear them in the day! (I got organised yesterday morning and brought in enough changes of clothes for the rest of the week, so I wasn't carrying a backpack.)

That small side trip? It took me up Mt Gravatt, my local nasty. It really is nasty. I've never ridden up it before, only run up it, and been driven up it late at night (but that's a whole different story). It took me 8:54 to climb the 2km... and I know guys who do it in about 5 minutes... and another 4 repeats! I'm so appallingly slow!

I usually pride myself on being a bit of a climber but it's not true... I'm just good at Logan Rd! I found myself looking for the triple (my dozer only gets down to 39x23) - I just couldn't spin! It was grind, grind, grind, all the way to the top. I got so worked up, I was sweating like a pig and I kept trying to shed bits of clothing as I went!

Despite being an overcast morning, the view from the top was amazingly clear. Mostly I could see distant mountains. The hills are my friends.

Now I am certainly a spinner (usually) and I noted that my heart rate this morning didn't get above 172 bpm (and it only stayed there for about a minute, then dropped back to 170 bpm). I should be able to get it up near 200 bpm and have gotten it up to 192-ish during running sessions. So I figure that I wasn't strong enough to push that gear - I think I could've gotten the HR up higher if I was on my silver bullet, with the triple. It doesn't matter - I've got something to work on!

Like Abby (Paul), I rode the brakes down. The corners are sharper than those on Mt Coot-tha but they are well banked - I was more concerned about the bumps in the road. Just as I started to gain confidence (i.e. speed), I hit a small rock, and nearly lost it. So it was back to crawling down the hill.

As I neared the bottom, I saw a rider climbing; he seemed very surprised to see me - perhaps because I'm female? There are not many female cyclists around my area. Abby, have you ever seen any? For me, it was just Sally, on the way to Murarrie last Saturday.

I continued on my commute, finding the rest of the hills mere bumps, and taking them in ridiculous gears. (When I got to Coro Dr, I decided that I probably had a tailwind.) I couldn't figure out how this small asian man kept catching me, until I slowed for those bastard lights at the bottom of the hill, and he kept going, and going... he ran every red light he came to.

(Which reminds me, I saw a 4WD-er do that at the intersection of Waterworks and Ashgrove Rds last night...)

But I passed him up the next hill, as is becoming gradually more common for me now. He boasted to me about how he commutes every day, 25km each way, from Logan. Needless to say, I wasn't impressed, because I commute that far too, only my end of the deal is hillier than his.

He saw that I wasn't impressed, so further boasted that he had to carry a 5kg backpack. Again, I wasn't impressed - I was thrilled that I'd gotten myself organised enough to not carry a backpack today!

He was a bit scary, technically that is (running red lights without actually slowing enough first to check if the intersection was clear, wobbling whenever he hit the brakes...) so I took off to go my back way to uni, as he took the main road into the city.

As I passed a cat that was climbing up a tree, I slowed down and heard some birds chirping in a rapid, panicked manner. Thinking there may have been chicks in danger, I u-turned and prepared to chase the cat down, first with water and then with empty bidons.

I took a closer look - there was no nest! There were no young birds! Of course not, it's winter... the cheeky miner birds were just trying to get the cat stuck up the tree! It was pretty bloody funny, and I wish I'd had a camera. Sure enough, when the cat reached the branches, the birds flew away...

... I wonder if they went to Europe...

More freaky shit!

I sent Scott a message at about 2245h last night: "Thought you would worry if I didn't text haha see you next week Thursday?"

I did this because I always think of booking a massage on my way home from work, and I text him. (He is my friend and massage therapist.) He leaves the phone in the kitchen so I don't wake anyone.

I must have got him just as he was looking at his phone, wondering why I hadn't texted, because he replied: "Remind me how freaky that was next week! Don't reply. Everyone is asleep!"

I see...

I see... that it is a beautiful, sunny morning...

I see... three cyclists flying down Warrigal Road, trackstanding at the lights and then turning right...

I see... a small bunch at Uni, and the two lead riders launch over the speed bump...

I see these things and wish I didn't need my car today... perhaps I should look into buying a trailer, or finding another way of transporting my Army gear.

I also see a cyclist with their helmet strapped to their handlebars... This is not a helmet debate. It annoys me that these people cannot make a strong decision. If you have no intention of wearing your helmet, why carry it? It is not a legal requirement to carry your helmet, but rather to wear it. Leave it at home. Or don't even buy it.

The cops sometimes hang out on the bikeway to catch people without helmets. It seems obvious to me that the only people you can harm by not wearing a helmet are you and those that care about you. I can hurt a stranger by driving irresponsibly or by smoking or by stealing. I can't hurt a stranger by not wearing a helmet, I can only hurt myself (remember, this is not the helmet debate). To the Queensland Police Service: please catch the bad drivers instead.

I see... me never finishing my PhD unless I get to it! [End of Blog Entry hahaha...]

Boring, wet people.

The guy who sat next to me on the bus was reading my book. He thought I didn't notice, but I did. I think he was intrigued by the fact that it wasn't modern crap.

Tonight I am not doing much except for following TimC around where he is commenting. And I'm on MSN too. That's fun.

Boring, wet weather.

Wet weather in Brisbane should be interesting, because it doesn't often happen like this in winter. But it is cold and wet and I have been finding it difficult to get out of bed. Tomorrow should be fine, which will be a nice change, and I should get the chance to ride my bike or maybe go for a run.

I walked into the garage last night and thanked my bike for being so beautiful during the crit. I just realised I should thank Tony instead, so I called him and told him all about the race, and about how beautifully my bike worked. I think he knows by now that I'm a weirdo, so he wasn't overly surprised by my call.

I had a very weird dream last night about people riding horned alpacas. Strange.

You know what else is strange? I haven't been very hungry today, what's with that? Oh well, back to coding...

William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

I think it's pretty appalling that someone else blogged one of my favourite poems before I got around to it. Read it here.

William Butler Yeats was a genius and his words touch my heart. As far as I am concerned, he and Christina Rosetti are the two greatest poets that ever lived. I have neglected them for too long, and soon I post some of my favourite works.

Rainy days...

I've spoken about Isobelle Carmody before, and now I'm doing it again, so bear with me. I think she's a genious. I like the way that even her books for young adults contain strong messages about the way we treat our world.

On very rainy days, I often catch a bus to uni, rather than ride my bike. If I ride 2-3 days a week, and catch a bus 1-2 days, I save heaps of money. One day each week I take my car, because I go to work straight after uni, I have to carry heaps of gear, and I leave work too late for buses. The desire to catch buses more often led me to suddenly get over the motion sickness that used to overcome me if I attempted to read.

So one rainy afternoon I caught the bus home, reading Billy Thunder and the Night Gate, and the following passage caught my attention:

... She hated cars.
'They make people crazy,' she said when Rage once asked her why. 'All those people locked up in their own little metal eggs. All certain their trip is more important than anyone else's. All polluting the world. You step in their way and they feel furious that you have stopped their journey. They get so mad, they want to hit someone. Old people, children, mothers with prams. Anyone who gets in their way.'

I thought she was pretty much dead-on, there. Good work, Ma'am. Keep it up. Get those kids questioning their parents' actions, nice and early.

Wine and seafood...

I've realised that I'm verbose, and that no one really cares what I'm up to anyway, particularly when I'm acting in a wholesome manner... so I'll keep it short.

Last night we had our "Welcome home, Checkers" dinner at the seafood buffet in the Brisbane Hilton. It was pretty expensive, so I got stuck into the seafood, putting away four Moreton Bay Bugs, which are ugly but delicious creatures, flavoursome like lobster but of a nicer texture, more like crab. I ate several servings of seafood, including fresh oysters and prawns, and hot prawns on a skewer, basted with chilli-infused sesame oil and grilled. Mmmmm. And some curry and roast and a taste of everything.

When I realised I was starting to get full, I headed for the cheeses, but I got distracted by a delicious seafood chowder! Eventually I tried all of the cheeses on a delicious crispbread, and some delicious European-style breads (you know the ones, heavy, with flavour, unlike local bread). I ate some rockmelon and hazelnuts as well. I think both are aphrodisiacs. Now I've got your attention!

I made it to dessert and decided to take it easy, skipping over the little crumbles and going for some baked custard, a caramel and macadamia tart, and a Lindt dark chocolate pot. The tart I could not quite finish, so I just ate out its contents. The chocolate pot was amazing. It was a little ceramic bowl filled with thick, rich, chocolate goop, thicker than Nutella, but dark chocolate, with a little bit of cream, nuts and dried fruits on top. I only got two-thirds of the way through this, but it was truly an indulgent experience. I am not a huge chocolate fan... but that was sex in a tub.

Afterwards, we went to the casino, where I spent no money, except for a dollar to share a locker, where I put my black fluffy jumper and red leather jacket, and wandered around in the warm (and unfortunately smokey) casino in a slinky black dress, and red boots.

Checkers bought me a Smirnov Black citrus mixer thing, that was absolutely toxic. It tasted okay but by the time I was halfway through (after several wines with dinner) I was worried about throwing up, so I passed it on!

I got to the bus stop and had a ten minute wait, so I called Stu. Then when I went to get on the bus, I left my fluffy jumper behind, which has not yet been handed in to lost property. It could have been worse - I could've lost my leather jacket. My bus trip went quickly, as I read some of The Aspern Papers by Henry James. I picked up a dropped wallet on my way out, and passed it to the bus driver. My jumper was definitely not to be seen. I had another chat to Stu as I walked up the street, and ended up outside my house, on the phone, for a while longer, until my feet went numb.

All about my crit...

(Teehee!)

Well once before I've attempted a criterium, but it didn't work out well for me. There was one other woman and a lot of really fast men, all Elite and A Grade. The corners were tight, not well cambered, and the circuit was really small. The other woman and I managed a few laps before we got lapped. It wasn't too traumatic, as it followed a 60km road race, and I only had a day to recover before an olympic distance triathlon, as part of the ADF Endurance Championships 2003.

So back to today... after yesterday's SMS barrage, Paul finally agreed to race today, at the Murarrie Crits, run by Balmoral Cycling Club. I was so glad, because I would've been too scared to do it if he wasn't there. As it was, I thought I would throw up before the race, and I was too nauseous to suck down a pre-race GU!

I woke up at 0545h and just as the weather guys had warned, it was fucking freezing. Dad told me later it was 5deg on his car thermometer (he had to work this morning). But it was beautiful and clear, and the weather guys said it'd be cloudy. After managing one slice of toast with the recommended minimum daily intake of peanut butter, I headed out the door with all manner of things stuffed in my jersey pockets, trying to figure out whether I was running late or early.

It was so hard to stay hydrated, with the cold. The first hill descent, I just hung on, sure I would freeze and pass out, despite ear,arm and leg warmers, gloves, and a wind vest with an extra stash of newspaper. I saw a few bunches heading the other way along Logan Rd, followed by Suncorp Metway cars with orange flashy lights. I should train like that. Mum?

Along Newnham Rd, I passed a girl I had seen earlier. She was out of the saddle, and I was spinning, up the hill. I said hello, and it wasn't until she caught up approaching some lights that I noticed her Team Australia gear. Interesting. We had a chat, and it turned out her name was Sally and she was heading out to watch the Murarrie Crits but wouldn't race because they didn't let women race in the Elites. She warned me that when I get really good, (hehe she said when, not if), I should avoid the Marcellettes, "You know, the girls in pink?" I already knew that, because I had done some triathlon training with ex-Marcellette, Kate (who was also an ex-pro surfer - some people have all the talent).

I stopped at the fruit shop on the corner of Creek and Newnham Rds to wait for Paul. I took the opportunity to throw out my newspaper, and then felt pretty silly when Paul rode up with no vest and no leg warmers, and I had no newspaper to offer him. We cruised in and saw more cyclists all heading to our same destination.

Once there, I figured Paul was going to try to pull out again, so I forced him to pay first. They asked him what category he wanted to race in; the ladies recommended Cat 3, but he didn't want to race little kids. We went over to the guy in charge, and he said to try Cat 2, and if we got dropped, to just spin until the bunch caught us, and jump back on.

I had a shaky start; I knew I should've had GU but couldn't stomach it, I was cold because I'd stripped down to arm warmers (and jersey and knicks, before the boys get excited). It took me a second attempt to clip in. Ken rode over to me and warned me about the surges at the start, advising me to gear up and hang on. That's probably what saved me!

Paul got dropped on lap 2, which is a huge improvement on his previous race, where he got dropped by Cat 3 on lap 1. I'm not sure of his circumstances there. I got dropped near the end of lap 4; we came out of a corner into a headwind, and I lost the wheel in front. It was stupid, but it was inexperience, not inability. Some of the other girls had been dropped and I was considering working with them, but they were either working really hard or barely moving - I wanted to keep spinning in the big chainring, so I could easily jump back on when the bunch came back around.

I picked up speed as they approached and began to pass me, but the guy in front of me (who had also been dropped) wasn't speeding up, and I was worried that I wouldn't be able to jump on. Fortunately, someone let me in. That was good for two reasons: the first is obvious - I was back in the pack; the second was that I felt the need to show my gratitude by working hard and not dropping off the wheel in front, because I didn't want to force extra work onto the guy who had let me in.

I held on all the way to the end of the race as well, although I was the second last across the line! It doesn't matter, I only dropped one lap, and the fact that I managed to hang on after that tells me that I'm capable of staying for the entire race!

Because I didn't pass Paul when I was out on my own, he originally thought I had stayed with the pack the whole way, which was pretty funny! Ken and Adam told me that I was too far back and I needed to start further up so the surges didn't get to me. I am really looking forward to my next race, so I can see how I go.

Most riders had very good bunch skills, and I learnt a lotg (yes, already!) just by watching what worked and what didn't, and what almost caused falls. I had one close call, where someone suddenly veered across, and I was calling out and looking for a space, but the guy next to me had already seen what was going on, and given me room. Dude, whoever you are, you rock!

The juniors in our grade were a bit scary, because they were hard to see past the adult riders; if they did anything unexpected, I had to wait for the information to work its way back to me, as I couldn't just see what they were doing if they weren't right in front.

The ride home was pretty funny. Halfway along Newnham Rd I bonked up a hill, fearfully! I quickly sucked down a GU, freaking out about the fact that I live on top of a hill myself! But no dramas... Adam took a detour via my place, but wouldn't let me sit on his wheel up the hill, and it didn't matter because I went okay after the GU. Adam was planning on turning his trip home into a long ride, so he was enjoying detours. He's riding to Mt Tambourine tomorrow... freak! "Well I have to train for this 100 mile race..." I was stunned, and asked "Why are you doing a 100 mile race?" He answered, "Because not many people can..."

Hehe, can't argue with that.

What the bleep do we know?

Last night I saw What the bleep do we know at the Schonell. They're getting a lot of my money, lately. It was a good film, with a story mixed in with interviews with some crazy academics talking about the implications of quantum physics and brain research on what we understand as reality. There were two key concepts: (1) the quantum world is a world of possibilites, and we only bring one possibility into existence when we choose it; and (2) scientific research has shown that remembering an image of something causes the same regions of the brain to fire as seeing that object, so do the eyes see, or does the brain see, and if the brain is what sees our "reality" then what additional information from our eyes does the brain reject?

Well I didn't like the former because it seemed as if we could choose a particular outcome for all possible measurements, which seems to be a pretty simplistic view of quantum physics, although rather appealing to the general public. The latter was interesting; but it seemed a bit droll, because it seemed obvious to me that what we see is always an image of what is there, so why should the image induce different firing patterns?

I was fascinated by some of the speakers who took the viewpoint that the quantum world puts the onus back on you to make decisions on your life; therefore people tend to settle into routines, and their life becomes more static because of their inability to make different choices. And then it moved on to discussing the peptide addictions that our bodies have, so that we become addicted to feeling a certain way, driving us to recreate the same situations over again. I found this concept quite thought-provoking. This bit was fascinating, and it was accompanied by a drunken wedding reception scene in the movie, complete with Flubber-like creatures acting out the seven deadly sins!

There were beautiful pictures taken from research into "Messages in Water," by Dr Masaru Emoto where he labelled bottles of water with emotional words and it had changed how the water molecules looked. When I get a few minutes, I'll read up on this, because our body is pretty much all water... or, as the movie points out, vaccuum, and you never really touch anything, anytime...

The woman who leads in the movie is deaf; she looks a lot like the woman in that legal show that was on years ago... I think it was called Reasonable Doubt. I always find it interesting to see deaf people in lead roles, where the deafness is not an issue. I wonder how much her deafness added to the story... I wonder if they needed a deaf woman, or whether she was just the best actor for the job? She's very talented, anyway.

Of course, the topic of God arose... and with it the idea of unity, and the observer - fascinating to see quantum physics linked with spirituality like that, in a forum where it can be accepted and pondered by the general public. The movie was mostly filled with ponderings that I had experienced before, but there's a lot of people out there in their sheltered little routines that could do with seeing this movie, even if just to think of the possibilities...

And man, I'd love to invite some of those people to a party!

Team BLART theme song competition

Paul has decided we need a theme song, if we want to be Team BLART. The first one to pop into my head was the M.A.S.H. theme song, you know, Suicide is Painless. It seems an appropriate, if not entirely accurate, choice for tomorrow's crit.

I think we can do better, so post your suggestions as comments!

Bored now...

Stu sent a message, but then went missing; I didn't get enough work done; even a.b has gone quiet (and that's weird, because usually the other Stu, and TimC, are procrastinating on Friday evenings)...

What to do...

What to do...

Strange occurrences...

I went to the bike shop to see about a black jersey. None in stock, but LBSG will get me one. Cool.

There's a guy in the shop, trying on a fluoro yellow (ew!) long sleeve jersey, trying to balance a 7.5 month child. So I hold the kid for him. That's very unusual for me.

Even more unusual is that the kid didn't scream. I took him to look at gloves, socks, and helmets (light enough for him to pick up, but too big to eat); it is important to instil a love of cycling at an early age!

I don't know what is going on, but I'm scared...

Then I bought lollies from the choose-your-own section in the lolly shop, and there was this girl who was eating them before they got weighed, so she wouldn't have to pay for them. Girl, you suck. Get a conscience.

This is meant to be Queensland!

After last night's exciting commute, I was ready to ride again this morning, so it was with horror that I heard the weather report: 7deg C overnight. That's not good.

Well I don't think it got down that far, but it was bloody cold when my alarm went off at 0630h, so after a quick pit stop, I reset it for 0730h, and eventually hauled my arse out of bed at 0745h.

Paul finally agreed to do the Murarrie Crit tomorrow, so I didn't ride today, and instead drove my bike out to Triathlete's World Cyclery, where Tony does the best bike servicing anywhere. He was really busy, so I hope he gets time to work on it. I want my wheels trued, mostly.

The Singapore noodles I had for lunch from our uni noodle bar were absolutely disgusting. I don't know what I was thinking. I was hungry. They looked good. They're food is always pretty bad, though. Pizza tonight should settle my stomach.

I plan on doing a lap up Mt Gravatt each morning on the way to uni, now, to get me stronger. Hopefully Paul will join me. (No Paul, leave your occy strap at home, I am not going to haul you up!)

I installed MSN Messenger last night, so I got to talk to Stu, although everyone was talking to Stu, and he was trying to blog and get on the road to Gent, so it wasn't particularly focussed - cheaper than a phone card, though.

Hey, I got my hair cut! Not much, more of a trim really. I want to go and buy a black cycling jersey...

BLART Pursuit!

Paul told me he was about to leave the office, and that he would be dicking around at his locker for about fifteen minutes. I said I would leave in the next ten minutes or so, but ended up running late. Who can tell our individual start times? It matters not... the race was on.

It was still warm and sunny when we started, he from the city and I from St Lucia. Could I catch him before he turned off, at Mt Gravatt?

I took it easy for the first few minutes, at uni... but then I realised that it would truly be a race, and I should try my hardest to catch him. I figured he would be head down, lard arse up, pedalling like crazy, and I should be doing the same.

So I did... I took the hilly turns on reverse camber nice and easy, and then it was all on. I looked down at my speedo as I flew across the riverside path and was thrilled to see I was doing 42km/h on my own steam (or maybe with a tailwind)!

I had little tolerance for slow riders on the cycleway, but I still called out as I passed. I hit O'Keefe St, pulled onto the road, and was very pleased to see I had averaged about 27km/h, despite the hills and stops.

I took Logan Rd, because I'm pretty sure it's faster. For once the lights at Stones Corner didn't dick around (normally I have to press the pedestrian crossing button) because there was a bus there. The first hill climb seemed really easy, which doesn't normally happen. Before I knew it, I was passing Ridge St, and flying down the hill passing a wanker of a cyclist who kept running red lights. (There was no point in him doing this, as I kept catching him on the next climb.)

As I approached Marshall Rd, I spotted a rider ahead who looked familiar. Was that my co-lard arse? Whoever it was, they were looking back nervously. I pushed harder up the hill and was pleased when the lights changed ahead. I confirmed that it was Paul... but the lights were now green, and he was several cars in front.

He's a big guy and he absolutely flew down the hill, but what impressed me most was the way he continued to pull away at the bottom of the hill. It becomes a slight incline, and he was spinning hard, pushing that Orbea (is it?) up the incline. I put my head down and my lard arse up, and pushed hard to catch him, but I wasn't getting any closer. I've never seen him work so hard!

Then, to my great relief, the lights ahead turned red. As he sat up to cruise to the lights, he looked back... and saw me... and was devastated. Because I had sat up and was smiling, because I knew he would see me. So he probably thinks it was easy.

Dude, you have no idea how much that hurt.

It's really cold now, so I think my plan to ride Mt Gravatt on the way to uni might fall by the wayside in the interest of keeping my bed warm.

Brisbane is back to normal.

It's an amazing day outside - it's about 20deg C and bright and sunny with clear blue skies. I think I'll ride home early to make the most of it. It's taking my breath away, and I'm just peering out through my window. It's powerful, what one day of rain can do for your sun appreciation.

Why can I read my clock?

I woke up this morning when the front door shut. This didn't concern me, because I knew that my parents would be up early to watch a televised soccer game. What did concern me, however, was the fact that I could read my LCD alarm clock.

See, I was meant to wake up when it was too dark to read my clock (it doesn't have LEDs, it's an LCD, remember?) but I could read it and the time was 0630h, which meant that I was meant to be opening my garage door and heading down the road on my bike. Oops.

So I quickly texted Paul to let him know that I had no chance of making it on time - I hadn't even packed my bag yet, because I was going to do it in the morning, if it wasn't raining. Paul didn't reply so I sent another text, which he also didn't reply to... but what else can a girl do?

So I got a hurry along and made up 5 minutes on my way out the front door, and by the time I got to the Mitre 10, I'd caught up 10 minutes. Apparently Paul was looking out for me... and nearly stacked it at Marshall Rd as a result. It wasn't me he could see, though, and I wasn't even in my sky blue jersey.

I felt really slow, but my times indicate otherwise. An MTBer and a roadie both tried to jump on my wheel, and I thought they had done it, so I was indicating all the manhole covers and stuff, and when I next looked back to change lanes, they were a long way back. Oops.

Out on the Goodwill Bridge, I had the usual situation of cyclists flying by, as I take my time, because we all know how unpredictable pedestrians can be. One of them headed to the Gardens; the other I passed a few hundred metres along the bikeway.

I slowed down for the section of bikeway where they are doing construction because it's between some pillars, it's really blind and poorly lit. As I came out the far side, a Lance-wannabe and a grinder (on an old, green, steel roadie) take off past me. Obviously they're not into safety.

I took one look of the Lance-wannabe (yep, USPS jersey) and groaned inwardly. His seat was low, his knees were out, and he was the big chainring. Still, I'm not one to pass up a free ride, so I sat back a bit and took it easy. Green-grinder had toe straps and was sitting in top gear for some reason, even though I was spinning along happily in 39/15, enjoying the no-effort 33km/h.

Lancey-boy (see definition) was riding like a maniac, cutting in really close to pedestrians before quickly skirting around them with no warning to them or us. Green-grinder was doing what he ccould, even indicating nice and early to me that when he turned right through a tunnel to the northern suburbs. I thanked him, but didn't worry about hanging on to Lancey-boy's wheel, as it wasn't a challenge.

I spin a bit faster and catch his wheel again, but due to his erratic cycling I sit back about a bike length. This was a good call, because he passed a girl, aged about 12, with no warning, on a narrow section, with a guy flying down the hill the opposite way. I called out to warn the girl and dropped in behind her, who thanked me (what a sweetie!) when I reminded her to keep left, as I rode off.

Of course, I caught him again before we had gone another 200m. I lost him a few times when he pulled around blind corners at speed (look out pedestrians, cyclists and drivers, Lancey-boy is on the loose!) but kept catching him up hills, because he was still in that glorious big/big gear ratio.

I fully intended to have a kind chat to him, but when we approached a small section of bikeway (between two dead end-streets), and he ducked around a slower girl, nearly knocking her off her bike, he got away. I caught him again at uni, but he took a different turn to me, so I didn't see him again.

As you can see, I have no respect for Lancey-boys like that. You are not a good cyclist, dickhead, so stop trying to tell yourself you are; you will get someone killed!

Heading up past the pool, I saw a brown car approaching from the opposite direction. Cyclists are often blessed with a sixth sense that screams "DANGER!" so I eased off the pace a bit. I've nearly been hit at this T-section before.

Sure enough, the driver turned right, across in front of me - if I hadn't slowed down, he would've slammed into me, instead of me being able to brake and veer behind him.

I took the opportunity to yell at the top of my lungs, "What the fuck are you doing?" (which drew some attention) before chasing this guy up the street (hill, what hill?), in whatever gear I was in, at some ridiculously high cadence. I waved at him to pull over, and eventually he did, and wound down his window.

As his girlfriend ducked out the the passenger side and ran away giggling (I was too slow to grab my bidon, and not really keen for assault charges anyway), I asked politely (but in an angry tone), "Since when is it part of the road rules that you don't have to give way when you're turning right at a T-section?"

He apologised profusely and made a lame-arse excuse: "I'm so sorry, I was rushing, my girlfriend was late for her exam." I replied, "That's great, but next time you'll look out, give way, and not try to kill a cyclist, right?" He agreed, and I went on, "Because you nearly fucking ruined my day." He apologised again, and then I rode off.

I reckon I may have ruined his day.

Should I stay or should I go?

That is the question. Oh no, wait, that's "To be or not to be..." Sorry, I got confused.

But really, what to do... what to do..? Blasted PhD commitments...

For the sweetest thing anyone ever blogged about me, see the comments here.

I like making shit up!

Here's another new word for the dictionary:

Lancey-boy
a nancy-boy who thinks he is Lance Armstrong.

Busy, busy, busy!

Yep, that's what my last few days have been.

After my brilliant Sunday, I was a bit tired, and as no one had agreed to run around in the Glasshouse Mountains with me, I decided a sleep in was a great idea. After a few loads of washing and some web time, it was time for lunch.

Frenchy was meant to text me if he was free for beer, so when he hadn't responded by lunch, I accepted Kurt's invitation for beer instead. Then Frenchy called and I found myself double-booked. So I visited Frenchy on the way to meeting Kurt in the city.

As I walked to the bus stop, I got a girl I knew from school, who has lived up the road from me all my life (except for when I moved out, before I got broke and moved home). She's a bit of a lamo and was exercise walking, but that's no excuse - she passed within a few metres of me. Sarah Usher, you are still the toilet flusher.

Frenchy and I watched Bad Santa which was really funny and has forever distorted my view of shopping centre Santas. In order to get the DVD we drove to the nearest (not really) video store, where Frenchy's car wouldn't start and I had to push it, which got us some assistance really quickly, and also got Frenchy thinking about stupid things like me in chains, towing the car home.

I headed into West End for coffee with Kurt, which became coffee with Kurt and Ando, and then Stella Artois with Kurt and Ando, and then gourmet pizza from Slice with Kurt and Ando, and then more Stella Artois. It was a good night.

Tuesday was all work. What can I say? The highlight was doing the cross country at 1600h.

Wednesday was all buses and uni, I managed to get a massage in the morning, although I booked last minute, and I even saw Hell on Wheels, at the Schonell.

My dad is the net-nazi, so I had to come back to post the links.

Students with scurvy...

In the past, I've only heard of this afflicting PhD students on a deadline... but I've been better informed, thanks to SMH:

The inquiry heard from Professor Robert William Watts, an academic researcher, who said in the most severe cases students had attempted to survive on around $30 per week and their skin had started to erupt.

"It is simply unacceptable … to have people coming from suburban Melbourne presenting with symptoms of scurvy," he said.

I'm feeling very proud of my ability to maintain good nutrition while being in my eighth year of uni.

Those pictures again...

Okay, I had another go at pictures in the sidebar, hosted somewhere different. Let me know how it works out.

Lamington National Park... it rocks!

After another late night taking notes to update hippyontour.blogspot.com I struggled to drag myself out of bed, even after I had slept in until 0530h. I can guarantee all avid (or not) readers that I'll be sleeping in tomorrow, even if my house is burning down.

At 0600h, Kurt was due to pick me up so we could head off to Lamington National Park. We had originally planned to do the Border track, from Binna Burra to as far as we could go, and back, in a day. If we'd made it all the way to O'Reilly's, it would've been a marathon. However, over coffee and chai yesterday, Bec recommended doing the Coomera circuit, because there were lots of waterfalls. So Kurt took care of getting a map while I was still at work, and this morning I took care of making sandwiches, and off we went.

Rain was forecast, but fortunately it held off. I don't mean to imply that rain is an unpleasant experience in the rainforest, but I had forgotten my emergency poncho. The tracks in Lamington National Park are wonderful - they're quite soft underfoot without being too boggy, and it's possible to run the Border track. We made really good time without putting in much effort, although I do struggle with slimy creek crossings. I managed to not fall in, but once I was forced to put my foot under flowing water, and about an hour later I was pleased to stop at a lookout to wring my sock out.

We didn't solve any great world problems, but we chatted about smart things and stupid things and about people we both know and people that neither of us know. Eventually we came to the (second) junction of the Coomera circuit and the Border track, and at this point we met the first other bushwalkers we had seen all day. It was about two minutes after I had returned from a pee, so it was fortunate they hadn't come sooner.

We had planned on heading straight onto the Border track, to finish the 17km circuit; the couple talked us into going to some of the lookouts further around on the Mt Hobwee crcuit, simply based on their enthusiasm. At the first lookout, we stopped for lunch; the second lookout was a long way off course, so we continued on the circuit, with me still taking heaps of photos.

Lamington National Park is special because it's a beautiful rainforest with amazing waterfalls and rock pools and caves. We only bush-bashed once; we respect the natural environment, but the cave was down an old track, and we desperately wanted to investigate.

As we arrived back near Binna Burra, the bushwalkers were out in force. I think a lot of people were starting very late in the day, and I can only assume that they were camping (we passed one campsite on the track) but I don't know why they didn't start earlier.

I'm not sure how far we travelled - the Coomera circuit is meant to be 17.5km, but the extra section, if it turned it into the Mt Hobwee circuit, made it 20.5km. We didn't even get lost!

Kurt lived in St George for a while, I discovered today, so I know all about the place where Paul is spending this weekend...

... ooh speaking of cyclists called Paul, the other one (Ironman Paul) is recovering nicely from his wounds, and has been drowning his sorrows in alcohol, said sorrows being caused by a girlfriend I didn't know he had...

... and back to my tale: hanging out with Kurt was awesome, because he's even cooler than in high school (probably due to experiencing heartbreak and pain and boredom). Strangely, Kurt's voice sounds a lot like Stu's voice (and he swears almost as much) and that somewhere between high school and now, without my knowledge, he developed a passion for techno. Which meant that there were constant reminders for me, prompting me to babble to poor Kurt about shit that he just had no interest in.

On the way home, we stopped at the Yatala Pie Shop, for a good old pig out. I bought the steak, tomato and onion pie, and we had Jacaranda iced coffees, because there was no Ice Break (yep, another thing to remind me of Stu), and I got a berry pie for dessert, but I was too full to eat it (probably from that packet of Kettle Chips I ate) so I brought it home.



We've decided Tasmania might not happen this year after all, due to a lack of funds on both our parts, and that we might just head out hiking locally instead. The photos are in my online album. The heavy cloud cover made it difficult to get the exposure right, so some of them are dark.

Rush to the bar...

I hurried home and it didn't rain on me, and the puncture deities left me alone.

Interesting, a text message just came through on my phone, and my wireless keyboard stopped working.

Back to my tale, I rushed home, showered, ate, and headed off to the pub, in a shimmery gold and red top and boring jeans. This involved a walk to the bus stop, waiting (and cleaning out the junk in my wallet in the process), chatting to some guy on the bus who turned out to be reasonably nice.

The pub was actually the Adrenalin sports bar, where I met heaps of cool people, have found myself on a sponsored girls MTB team for a 12-hour race, have found myself invited to free rockclimbing with qualified instructors on Wednesday nights, and invited to an adventure race next weekend...

It was Simon's 21st and also the anniversary of the opening of Race Elements, Nick and Simon's Personal Training Studio on Lutwych Rd. But back to me.

I met a bike mechanic who wants to do cheap work for me, called Big Kev... Todd retold the story about the time I had an accident while orienteering and nearly ended up raped by a log, and he had to pick splinters out of my thigh, and that Simon had called his mates immediately after, to tell them what Todd had done.

I caught up with old friends and met new people, and guys and girls kept poking at my biceps all night, which is really strange, because my biceps are quite small at the moment.

I missed my bus, and returned to the pub until the next bus was due. The 1220h bus home was an experience, with a girl called Amelia leaving vomit everywhere... But the Scottish lass I sat with was awesome to chat to.

In bed at 0200h, up at 0700h and off to work, conducting investigations all day. Well, it happens. We were so busy I missed out on the planned bike ride. I'm off hiking tomorrow, with Kurt, so I'll see how that works out.

Wet weather...

It looks like tonight I will again be forced to prove that I am not just a fair weather rider...

Thanks LBSG!

I had a tube die on me in spectacular fashion the other morning. Well, I didn't see it happen, and it actually happened overnight, but it was a blowout of the part where the rubber is reinforced or thicker near the valve stem.

There were no rough patches on my rim, no other problem spots, no stones could've gotten in, nothing like that; it was a brand new tube that I had not yet ridden on. So I took it back to the bike shop (only got around to it today).

I said, "I had an interesting tube incident," to which my LBSG said, "I hope you mean on the bike, not at army," and he makes a good point. I showed him the tube and he didn't even ask, he just immediately gave me a replacement. I bought a few extras as well - long stem, because they work better with my rims and cheap track pump (standard stems are just a smidge too short).

Thanks Uni Bike Shop!

Early mornings...

I got up early again this morning, although fortunately it was to ride my bike. I pumped up my tyres a bit more and headed off. With my ear warmer, arm warmers, vest, newspaper, and summer gloves, I was plenty warm, even down the first hill. I removed the headband at the Kessels Rd lights, and was pleased to see the bins were unlidded, so newspaper disposal didn't even require a stop!

I beat Paul to Mitre 10 for the first time, and made him ride on the RHS, for no reason, really, but I guess it's good for him to be on the traffic side occasionally. Hahaha I also made him work hard up some hills, out of the saddle!

I saw Kate, who I used to train with, near Southbank. She didn't recognise me until I was right near her, but I spotted the Microsoft jersey a long way back, and figured her out before I got there. I had heard a rumour that she was fat, and it's not at all true, as she is looking very fit.

Seeing Kate helped me narrow down the reasons why the QAS girls give me filthy looks each morning:

(1) They always have sour faces because they don't like training with the QAS, but I'd hate to start rumours.
(2) They don't like me because I'm a commuter, because I ride a Learsport, or because my kit is sexier than theirs.
(4) When I wear the squad gear, they think from a distance that I'm Kate, who they know is good, unlike me.

So today I played my "Good morning!" game, with only three responders, and then got all excited when, as we approached Paul's turnoff, I saw the IronBee (Mike Curtis, at least I think his last name is Curtis), who is back into training after IMOZ. So I slowed down and had a big chat... and I'll be seeing more of him soon, because he's the 2hr pacer for the Gold Coast half marathon.

My hero!

If I'm ever brave enough, I will do this when a prick tries to kill cycle-Tam:

Tap on the driver's window at the set of lights. Smile. Say "you [insert unacceptable behaviour] back there. I don't think you should be on the road." Reach in to driver's compartment. Remove keys from ignition. Ride off with keys in pocket. Deposit keys in nearest post box [aka drainage grate]. Laugh.

I learn a lot from everyone on aus.bicycle - other people suggested throwing keys over fences or on shop awnings!

I need a nap!

What happened with the rest of my day? Well, Stu called, and that was good. Also, Chris called, and that was cool! Also, James (my principal advisor) liked some of my code, and wants to meet with me on Friday, and that means I have to do my progress report tonight.

I rode my bike home, pretty much without incident, until I headed up the hill near my home, and a wanker in a 4WD heading down the hill decides to approach steadily until 20m away from me, and then change to high beam. Good thing I don't carry a shotgun when I cycle. Why would anyone do that?

My biggest pet hate with 4WD, as both a driver and a cyclist, is probably that their headlights are higher, and shine in your eyes. But the driver can't help this - that's where the lights are! But changing to high beams on a road where you wouldn't really need to under any circumstances... welcome to the dickhead club, dude!

I drove in to work at 0550h today, and there was so much traffic that I was tripping out, thinking I was running mega-late or something, even though it was still dark. It matched the traffic on the way home, which was a killer, even though it was only 1630h, and I thought people were meant to work until 1700h... So back to travelling to work: I stopped off for a McDeath coffee, because I was desperate. It happens, sorry Stu.

Got there to find that Bec had forgotten to pack a hairnet, and by some freaky luck, I had packed a spare one today, even though I'd already done my hair. Weird, huh? It's that psychic thing coming through... so we had a quick discussion and then off I headed on the recce, which was awesome fun, because we went on some serious 4WD tracks. Love the Land Cruiser off road, and I can't wait until I can drive it.

Worked all day, with a short break for a barbeque lunch, and I'll be back in there sometime over the weekend. Current plans are to work for a bit on Saturday morning and then drag Bec out for a bike ride, if I remember to get her a spare tube or four.

I'm also hoping to head out to Lamington National Park for a bit of a hike on Sunday, and might even overnight it, just because I can. Have to discuss that with Kurt, and check my national parks flyers to determine where I want to go.

I'm not sure if I mentioned that I've been encouraged to join the ADFRAA team for the City to Surf run in Sydney... apparently most of my costs are covered or reimbursed, so I like that.

I got home last night to find a package on my bed, which was a Nike running headband, complete with a letter saying, "Too bad, you suck, we don't want you on Team Bowerman, but here's something that some little kids in China made for you." Okay, that's not entirely accurate...

The package I got tonight was much better. It was my set of ADF knicks and jersey -my prize for being the first (and last) female in the ADF cycling championships. Go Tam!

I have so much stuff to do, and I really should check to see what Stu has blogged... Absent Husband, if you read this tonight, do you want to follow my wheel to work? SMS me!

Nothing much interesting has happened...

... but what the hell, I'll blog it anyway!

So I left uni yesterday and visited Rada on my way to work, to collect another copy of the undies chain letter, but I found my copy in the car on the way there, so I just had a cup of tea instead, and looked at some of her photos. She is a fashion and costume designer, and she is a genius!

Work was busy, as usual, and I got stuff done, but not as much as I would have liked. I got home too late for Stu to call, which was a big shame. When I got home, I prepped my bike for this morning.

I checked my resting heart rate as soon as I woke up, and it was back down to 42bpm. Well, to be honest, I actually jumped out of bed, then remembered I wanted to check my HR, and grabbed the polar watch and lay back down. I think it still counts.

I walked past my front door to see the perfect image of "cute" - my wuppy, George, had jumped off his pet bed, and his blanket had caught on his tail. He was looking in the screen, smiling in his doggy way, with his tail wagging under the blanket, and he was totally oblivious. George, you are the best dog in the world.

I ate toast and got ready to ride to uni - I had slept in and was planning on the post-peak hour commute. Unfortunately I had a flat, which sucked, given that my bike was fine last night. I checked the tube and there was a nasty tear near the valve stem that was just too nasty to be the result of dodgy rim tape or anything; so I figured it was operator error, possibly when I packed the tube into the saddle bag along with the tools.

After replacing the tube (again!) I had a nice fast commute; the start was a bit shaky, when I rolled out of my driveway in 53x12... oops, should check that, after cleaning my bike. I wore my HRM and now realise why I have been getting fitter without actually training - I am at 75-85% HRMax the entire commute, which is an hour each way. Nice!

In exactly the same way as it happened two weeks ago, my legs felt amazingly fresh this morning... I felt fast, and would look down to check what cog I was on, and think, "what am I doing in that gear ratio?" and then realise that the answer to my question was "spinning," which was quite pleasing!

The highlight of my commute were the crazy pedestrians at Stones Corner, who checked for cars but apparently did not check for me, even though I started yelling "turning!" to let them know what I was doing. You crazy folks! Tsk, tsk.

The pictures in the sidebar...

On Dad's computer, there are pictures in the sidebar. They are pictures of me, and I look cool (the pictures, not me). At uni, there are "MyPhotoAlbum" links. They look shit. What do you guys see?

Spooky shit...

After that last post, I went to Isobelle Carmody's fan page, and found an "Obernewtyn Name Generator" and thought I would have a go.

So I put in my entire name and it returned my mother's middle name, which is a Dutch name. I found that a bit freaky. I am Frederika, Gypsy healer. No hits came up on google when searching for my combined given names, and then it was really spooky!

FYI, my Legendsong name was Halete, Darkfall pledge. Which I think means I have some magickal powers, yay! Hopefully they will help me in my PhD.

Memetics (not genetics)...

I got memed by cfsmtb. Looking at the questions, I was pretty happy that it's about music and not books, because the last book I bought (and am currently reading) is aimed at children. I'm sure everyone will find this really boring.

1. Total amount of music on computer?
Lots. It worked out to many days worth. And I own the CDs also.

2. CD you last bought?
Wow, that's a long time ago. I think it was South by Heather Nova.

3. What is the song you last listened to before reading this message?
Not Only Human by Heather Nova - it was in my car CD stacker.

4. 5 songs you often listen to, or which mean a lot to you?
I hate that I have to pick 5, as if there are going to be only 5 songs that satisfy the criteria... looking over the list, I'm surprised to see that it's mostly pop-shit, whereas mostly I listen to artists that no-one has ever heard of. I guess to me, sometimes it's just music, but sometimes there's a song hidden in it, and sometimes the musicians don't even notice that it's there. If it pulls on my heartstrings but I don't know why, then it belongs on this list. (I got the idea of the Song from The Legendsong Saga by Isobelle Carmody.)

Heal by Heather Nova: I love pretty much everything this woman comes up with. I think she is a musical genius,. I think she is an Angel that has come to Walk this world, leaving a trail of song behind her. She leaves me Doubled Up. She tears my heart in two and then makes me deliriously happy. But Heal is surely my favourite.

Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls: after some seriously screwy dreams as a kid, I felt as if the voice in my dreams had written me a song.

Mysterons by Portishead: this song will always remind me of the bittersweet times I spent with Troy. This is the first song on the album Dummy, which he played every night.

Little King by the Hollowbodies: it's a bit different to the others, but I was listening to it the other night and had to acknowledge that one of the verses rang true for me before I ever knew I would be a circus freak...

She's the one taking chances
Out on branches doing dances
I'm the clown on the ground
I just hang around and wear my crown...

Now I'm down to my last song and it's an impossible choice. You Look So Fine by Garbage hit me at a really appropriate time in my life, and it's definitely well embedded with the Song. Dancing in the Storm by Boom Crash Opera reminds me very strongly of high school. So does Stay by Lisa Loeb, and it went on to get me fans in quite a few karaoke contests. Elegia by K's Choice is one of the saddest songs I've ever heard and it breaks my heart when I hear it. Albinoni's Adagio, and Pachelbel's Canon in D, are both right up there. Rasputina earned a few as well, especially Herb Girls of Birkenau, which came to me at the same time as Isobelle Carmody's Obernewtyn Chronicles. Oh, I just figured out number five...

Don't Dream It's Over by Crowded House: I remembered loving this song when I was quite young. Sometime later, my favourite book was The Stand by Stephen King. When this got made into a movie, Don't Dream It's Over ended up being featured (as did Blue Oyster Cult's Don't Fear the Reaper, later covered by the Muttonbirds or someone, which is another gorgeous song... I'm such a sucker for a minor key.) Anyway, it was so perfect for the book, that whenever I would re-read that book, I'd become addicted to the song again, and listen to it everywhere I went. So it reminds me of walking home on beautiful sunny afternoons, when the wind was just picking up, and feeling as if the world was mine alone.

Yeah, now it's my turn to stab, oops, I mean tag, someone. Ummmm, I pick Absent Husband and my new friend Ian, but I'll have to let them know later, because their templates aren't compatible with my browser.

So much is happening... mostly girly stuff, though!

Hippy has found a net cafe and updated his blog - yes, the real one! Check it out!

I received an email from a random blogger who found my blog and read (some of) it and found (some of) it interesting. Isn't that cool? I thought so. So I'm off to check out his blog later.

I drove to uni today, because (1) my legs are sore and (2) I have to work tonight and (3) I had to bring lots of groceries in for the next week of lunches. The traffic wasn't too bad, so I figured that my calm way of dealing with the bra-shopping experience last night had led to good karma.

Bra-shopping... I hate it. Sports bras are fine - I know what I like (wide straps, soft material, no rough seams, at least 2 clips, proper cups, preferably no wire) and what I don't like (sports bras which are really just unsupportive crop tops - hello, I'm a runner). And sports bras come in all sizes, because all women should wear a good bra when they play sport.

Hello designers! All women should wear good bras any time they wear a bra, or else there's not much point, is there?! So while it's nice to have soft, microfibre, "shaper bras" that are really crop tops, I'd like to be able to buy a real bra, also. Please don't assume that because I'm not a 14D, I don't want support. I am an active girl. Even when I am not playing sport, I might need to, for example, run for a bus.

Also, please don't assume that because I'm not a 14D, I want padding. I don't want padding. It usually looks freakish. A double layer, a bit of lining, that's fine. But padding? That's misrepresentation. Imagine how disappointed a boy is going to be when he finds out they aren't real. Believe it or not, I have no desire to have large breasts. They get in the way when you run... whereas a nice arse and legs just help your running. That's where I want to be!

So for some reason, all I could get were stupid little crop tops or big padded contour bras or push-up bras, and it made me not happy, and so it was with glee that I headed to Coles for groceries.

Hmmmm, I believe I have digressed. So I arrived at uni today feeling fine, and then I shared the elevator with a pallet of Ladysan sanitary disposal units.

Mont 24hr here I come...

I got accepted into a 6-person team for the Mont 24hr that I don't have to pay for. Now I just need permission, flights, accommodation,...

Not-so-early start

I woke up this morning and my legs felt better than I expected they would. I thought, "Yay, I can ride my bike to uni," and then I attempted a cycling motion and could barely pick up my leg.

I am suffering from massively sore hip flexors, and very sore obliques (guess I was using my abs a lot when running). From past experience, I expect fresh legs on my Wednesday cycle commute.

After the race yesterday, I hurried home and showered, and wolfed down a sandwich before heading off to an extended family function. I go there and began pigging out on lollies and chips, and then discovered we would have a barbeque as well. So then I pigged out on fried rice, potato bake, rissoles, sausages, and some token salad (bring on the protein and carbs)... when I got home I didn't feel like dinner, so I had a big bowl of icecream with Milo all over the top. Mum was horrified but because I ran so well, she didn't comment!

I had a long soak in the tub, which made me feel better. Stu texted me as I was about to jump in (not jump); he was ready and waiting to call me from a phone booth. Oops... but he called later and explained all what he'd been up to, and it was awesome to hear from him. This morning, Mum said that cycling from town to town in Europe sounded like something I would enjoy very much... she's right, you know...

Wow, that's FUGLY!

There's a BV Great Victorian Bike Ride bike parked outside my office building. This is unusual because I am in Queensland. It truly is a monster... I now understand what you the a.ber's were talking about!

The real question: if you moved to Qld, why would you bring that thing with you? Novelty value?

Queensland Half Marathon

Ouch, ouch, ouch. OUCH... OUCH!!! Nah, not really.

It was a bit ouch though; I had to stop at the 15km mark and again at 18km for a quick stretch of my left ITB. It happens. The decision to stop and stretch was based on past experience... when I have decided not to stop, my running has gotten progressively slwoer, and eventually I needed to stop anyway.

The chafing was also a bit ouch... those new Adidas shorts I got as a random draw at Warwick are only rated to about 12-14km, for future reference.

Stats
Total time - 1:39:14.9
Average pace - 4:42 per km
Age group (F20-24) place - 3/14
Female place - 20/156
Overall place - 162/496
10km split - approx 47 min, TBC

So I ran about six minutes faster than I thought I was capable of running, and ended up with a bronze medal, to go with my finisher's t-shirt and trophy. The official splits will be released with the results booklet.

This race was less than four minutes off my PB, which is amazing, given that I haven't been training. I did my first kilometre in about 4:50 and kept trying to back off the pace after that but just couldn't do it! At the 11km mark, I realised I was on target for a sub 1:45:00 finish.

I always fade during 12-15km and then die in the bum for 15-18km but finish strong. My usual race tactic is to focus during 12-15km and then hang on during 15-18km... but something weird happened and I decided this time to fight those hated kilometres. And as I reached the 17km mark (only one more hated kilometre to finish), I realised that I might actually beat 1:40:00... hang in there girl!

Despite hurting really badly, and needing one more stretch in that time, I held on (and maybe even sped up) and at the 19km mark I pulled away from the other two women who had been level with me, and I didn't see them all the way to the finish!

I couldn't believe my time. Imagine that - a great time, and it's my third consecutive weekend of racing (at least). I also didn't get bored, even though it was a two-lap course and I hate covering the same ground twice.

What was it? Was it the double serve of bread with peanut butter, or the ladyfinger banana, that I ate prerace? Was it the Staminade I sucked down until race start? Was it the fact that I had nothing to lose? Did my body just win over my mind... or did my mind win over my body? Was it the way I wore a cotton lycra singlet instead of a drifit t-shirt? Was it the fact I didn't wear a hat? Was it because I farted lots during the race? (Apologies to those runners who copped a lungful!)

Thanks to Greg from N'R'Chi Bodyworks for the great post-race rub, and to Kate and Dean who kept me company in the queue. Hi to Rob and to Peter and to Ginny and Neil and to everyone else from Warwick and other races! To the organisers, a massive thank you, and I'll see you next year!

To the man who thinks that he twice dumped a cup of water on me - the first time, it landed in front of me, and I had just poured my own water over my head; the second time, it landed to my side, and I had just poured my own cup over my head!

This girl must be crazy...

For some reason, I've signed up to do the Queensland Half Marathon tomorrow. My legs still feel totally flat after last weekend's escapade. So goodbye sleep-in, hello early-morning-freezing-cold-legs-trying-desperately-to-run.

Stu, where are you? Call me!

Anyone for some Yagli Gures?

Yagli Gures (“yaw-luh gresh”) is also known as Turkish Wrestling. I read about it in the travel section today. The national championships, called Kirkpinar sounds particularly interesting, as "Nearly 1,000 barefoot athletes compete, oiled up and stripped to the waist."

Apparently only men and boys can participate in the sport, but I reckon I'd be awesome at it. Someone, please, let me try!

Tripod, the Pride Festival, and revenge of the Puncture Gods...

Tripod were amazing. They have such a great dynamic, there was audience participation, they sang (incredibly well) about "Justin" and "Greg" and the hotdog man and dirty power and how there's no oil in the Congo, and... well let's just say they were really fscking funny and everyone loved them. It was a full house!

I got to my bicycle after uni to find I had been visited by the Puncture Gods. They didn't seem to know that I wasn't planning on riding my bike home. It was the front again. So as per the original plan, Andrew and I caught the CityCat to New Farm Park and I used the trip as an opportunity to replace the tube. I couldn't find the puncture and I have a sneaking suspicion that some wanker let the air out deliberately.

After depositing my bike in my car, and collecting our tickets, we walked towards the Valley to find some dinner. We found an Indian restaurant next to an ice cream shop, which is what we wanted, but they were full. We didn't have enough time to wait, so we kept walking and found an Indonesian restaurant called Jakarta next to a gelati shop, which sounded even better!

We had a Ayam Bumbu Bali (Balinese spicy chicken) and Nasi Goreng Istemewa (Fried rice with prawn, chicken, sunny egg, vegies, 2 skewers of chicken satays and prawn crackers)... mmmmmm... and the total was $27.50, not bad! Then we ducked next door for delicious gelati - I had truffle, and burnt sugar. Burnt sugar is my favourite gelati flavour, and I like to try different things each time, otherwise I always end up with Baci, tiramisu or hazelnut.

Back at the Powerhouse, there was still half an hour until the show, so we hung out at Watt Modern Dining, and drank Boags. Sitting at the next table were some people I knew from the circus festival, including Steve, the photographer.

After Tripod, we walked out to find Charmaine mid-performance, and I saw Rada and Rae-Ming and Celia and Divo and... well lots of people, really, and I had a chat and then went home, feeling very tired, but that I'd had an awesome day, because I even did some good coding.

Nude pics!

I was excited to discover on this aus.bicycle thread that there are naked pics of me on the internet somewhere.

That prompted me to google for tamyka bell naked and it returned a lot of hits. Mostly a.b posts and poetry though. Sorry. Hehe and now probably this blog entry as well!

Paul's blog

Hey everyone, Paul started blogging!

http://absenthusband.blogspot.com/

From the aether...

In other news, my code worked like a charm, as in, it worked, and I don't know why, there's no scientific reason why it should have worked, but it did. And now my supervisor is clearly excited, because I've done something other than blogging and sending email and newsgroup posts.

Yay, I got a job!

"Thank you for accepting the offer to be the A 1.50 pace runner in the Half Marathon @ Gold Coast."

It's not a real job, but I'm the 1:50 A pacer for the Gold Coast Half Marathon! Yay! See you at the start!

Intelligence and stupidity are not mutex...

A few weeks ago, Stu explained that mutex is short for mutually exclusive.

I would think that people in the Physics department are pretty smart; however...

The following message was sent to the physics_all list by Jo...

An express post envelope has been returned to the department as a delivery address was missing and so was a return address. The only thing that links it back to the department are the two envelopes inside that have Physics on
them. If you think that this belongs to you please see me.

thanks
Jo

Crazy people, get off my road!

In the first 5 minutes of my travels today, I suffered from a ute driver giving me the finger and yelling at me, and lanesplitting... yep, I was driving!

Now I don't mind bikes or motorbikes lanesplitting, not in the slightest. Go for it. But a fscking ute?! He wasn't even capable of decent acceleration and merged without looking and nearly took the left side of my car out!

So after that effort, I decided to head in along Logan Rd. I did not need to deal with those sorts of freeway people. Unfortunately, a few of them had escaped and ended up on Logan Rd.

Most people were driving on the speed limit with a nice spacing (much better spacing than on the freeway), letting cyclists through... and then a few wankers come along and decide the speed limit is too slow, and that they have the right to do 10 km/h above it. Sorry, dickhead, you don't.

I saw someone doing this up the left hand lane near the Marshall Rd intersection and freaked that they would kill the cyclists there, but it worked out okay.

It made me sad that people are so greedy and stupid. Why not give way? It's not that hard!

I arrived at the Powerhouse safely enough, parked my car, pulled out the bike and rode to uni. It was the easiest commute I've had in a while - fewer hills and mostly off-road!

I got email from Stu, which was a really nice surprise, but the web terminal kept stealing his money and crashing, and not letting him have multiple IE windows open. Nasty.

Off to see Tripod tonight... yay!

No more travel updates...

I figured there are a lot of hippy fans out there who can't wait for him to update his blog but don't want to wade through all the other shit on my blog, so I made this:

http://hippyontour.blogspot.com/

I warn you, it is an unoffical fan page, nothing more, nothing less. It is not endorsed by the hipster! But if you want to know what he's up to, it's there.

Travel update...

Stu has a habit of texting things in shorthand so I hope I get all these details right.

After 136km and 8.5 hours on the road, Stu arrived and checked in at the Canterbury YHA. He sent me a text message and the switched his phone off straight away (or so he said) - boys are like that.

Today (UK time) he is exploring Canterbury on foot, or should I say, on SPDs that are crushing his feet - he's going to buy new shoes ASAP. He intended to buy new shoes in London but apparently they didn't stock size 48 (14 for the locals).

Apparently there are lots of nice buildings in Canterbury, but I guess I'm going to have to wait a while to see the pictures.

It didn't rain...

It didn't rain on the way home, I didn't get a puncture, and I didn't get killed in the peak hour traffic. It's all good!

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of my commute was the revhead near Mt Gravatt... when I looked over to see who the dickhead was, it was a police vehicle.

Lots of new photos

I uploaded quite a few new photos to http://tamyka.myphotoalbum.com so check them out!

Lonely...

I'm so lonely, I think my heart is breaking.

Speaking of all that sad shit, I went and saw Parkland last night, dragged Andrew along to the Troubadour with me, and they were awesome. I look forward to seeing them again soon.

I think it's going to rain on me when I ride home. You get that sometimes.

I will now attempt to upload some more old photos. Let you know.

Travel warning...

Warning, Stu is loose in the UK!

The facts so far:
He left yesterday (Australian yesterday that is) and got lost pretty much immediately, blaming it on poor signposting, but more likely due to poor navigational skills! He texted me during a pee stop to let me know he'd passed a sign to the Horniman Museum. I'm not sure why he told me this, but I'm figuring he was worried about getting caught and becoming an exhibit. Not to worry, he made it safe to the end of his INSANE ride for the day, to wherever he went, and stayed in a hostel.

What I learn at school...

Today I read about oxytocin, also known as the "cuddle hormone," because it makes you trust people. It is released in both men and women at orgasm. Read more here.

Doesn't life make more sense now?

Dickhead caps... part of Brisbane driving uniform?

Okay, that's not entirely fair, but here's some fine examples of crap driving that I encountered this morning:

A dickhead in a bomby old pile of crap, who blocked a t-intersection, preventing a woman from pulling out and turning in the opposite direction up a quiet street. When she tried to get around him, he didn't want to move forward, despite the half car-length clearance in front. Good morning, here's your cap.

I got to the bus stop (my bike was still at uni) to find a traffic jam. Why? Someone had wrapped their car around a light pole... on the wrong side of the road. I'm not sure how they did this, or if another vehicle was involved. Emergency vehicles were present, and the ambulance had already left, but from what I could see the front hand crumpled but the steering wheel was still in the right spot. I'm pretty sure that someone involved in the accident must've forgotten their cap.

So it was looking bad, until I changed buses in the city. Then my co-travellers had to watch me drooling with my face pressed up against the glass... cycle courier! Yeah, go dude! You're my hero!

Here is the photo of my mate Chris on his gorgeous new steed.

First-time peak hour commute!

I did it. I dropped my car off at the servo for a tune-up, pulled out my bike and headed in along Logan Rd. And it was soooooooo exciting! And it wasn't particularly busy - for most of the way I had a lane to myself.

The challenge is out, Absent Husband: 30.3 km/h ave from Padstow/Miles Platting/Logan Rd to Stones Corner, 27.6km/h ave total (I go onto cycle path after that)...

At first I thought I had a Logan Rd tailwind, but it was actually a crosswind (headwind along Coro Dr). Yay!

I won't ride home today, because I'm due for a massage in a few hours, and like to rest for 24 hours between. Also, I need to pick up my car before 1700h, which should be a challenge. So I'll be riding my bike home tomorrow... if anyone wants a lift.

Stu called this morning and we had a nice, long chat, and he's finally leaving London in the morning. (His morning, that is.)