Commutes Are Fun

Which I think a lot of people forget when they have cycling to work in mind. Sure there are days when people are trying to kill you, or the wind is trying to kill you, or stop lights are trying to kill you, but all that stuff is still fun when viewed from the right angle.

Saving the environment/money/getting exercise/political statements/etc are all well and good, but having fun is even better. People will go to great lengths if the goal is enjoyment (look at drug users!) but if they're doing something out of obligation or some complex long-term benefit it's a lot harder to stick with. Fun is fun and it's here now, and that's a great motivator. I don't think enough bicycle commuting evangelists make this the focus of their arguments. It's like going up to someone and saying, "If you give me $5 I'll donate it for you and later on you'll get a tax refund." versus "If you give me $5 I'll give you this box of insert-favorite-tasty-treat-here." The second guy is gonna get a lot more Lincolns, or whoever is on a five-dollar bill. Do people still use cash?

Anywho, today was a particularly fun commute. I gots a new chainring from Down Undah (yer mom) last night and even though my gal was pouting on the couch pretty hard I still plopped down and installed that biotch poste-haste. After taking some pictures first, of course. So I was excited right off the bat to see how another tooth felt. I won't get into it here, but it was nice.

The fun part today was traffic. After Colley Ave tried to wear me out with the clever use of every red light possible, I hit a good grove on Hampton Blvd and the bridge (which I was definitely wondering about with a bigger chainring) went by well. Then, being a good boy and stopping at a red light, I out-sprinted a semi and some kind of dump truck when it turned green. Which made me happy. Out-sprinting anything makes me happy, even if it is the vehicular equivalent of an old walrus on the beach.

As I neared the next intersection I smiled big and cuddled up behind a backhoe. If you're not familiar with construction equipment you may think I'm being rude to some woman, but I'm not. A big ol' wind blockin' slow movin' vehicle is an awesome thing on a bicycle. You don't even have to touch it, but it will pull you along for as long as you want. I sat pretty going only slightly slower than normal but putting forth almost zero effort. But sadly the jerk wasn't going to my exact location, so I was out on my own again.

Then came the semi with the flashing hazard lights. He was already through the intersection when I came up on him, so I snuggled up to his big ass too (while always keeping an extra sharp eye out for shit in the road and brake lights). But sadly he was going too slow for even a lecherous scumbag like myself, and soon I had to to pass him. Checking, checking, checking for traffic and then I was up in the pedals, passing a semi truck on a busy road. I even put one hand out and ran it along it's white belly for a moment as I passed. Looking back after half a block I had left it far behind, which I admit isn't saying much (remember, walrus) but to a slow kid who's used to being the slowest thing on the road it was very satisfying.

The ride home was just as fun, with the many incarnations of Jenny Lewis singing to me as she peaked out from the corner of my bag. Night riding is always semi-magical, and the only good thing about this weird daylight savings crap that goes on here. I didn't puss out on any of the bridges or the underpass and nobody really tried to run me over. Five-point-five inches of extra distance per pedal rotation seems to agree with me just enough so that I don't feel out of place, but enough that I still feel the burn.

Well, I gots tomorrow off and hopefully I get some fun shit in before I have to sit for twelve hours straight and fix e-mail, printers, and people's professional lives from within the curve of my headset. Peace.

- David

FOG

Naval Hostpital?, originally uploaded by BodhiDave.

Last night I took some time and cleaned up all the crap on my computer and ran across these pictures I took on a foggy day.

For reference, Crawford Bay normally looks like this.

Click the pic fer more.

- David

Vanity

Let me start by saying if I wasn't at work, you'd be seeing a full body shot of Y.T. in his undies to the left of this here text.  Who knows, maybe I'll even edit this entry when I get home and put it in post-post.

That's how bad I'm getting to be, and that's what I'd like us to talk about today.

I've always had a (mostly) positive view of myself.  Even in those awkward years during middle and high schools I figured I had a certain charm and used it to become the make out slut I'm known as around my apartment.  No matter if I always thought it was the kind of charm you'd apply to a dilapidated old building or a mentally retarded kitten.  Plus I have the sort of pillowy personality that people seem to enjoy, and that can go a long way for a kid with a gap between his teeth who's eager to please.

But lately tongue-in-cheek self-deprecation has led to self-confidence which is now giving way to straight up vanity.  I think I'm a regulation hottie.  Have you guys seen my legs?  They're off the hook.  I've lost count of how many friends and strangers have said I look like Johnny Depp, and even though I think it's just our weird facial hair that's similar, it's still flattering to hear twelve or so times.  Add in the adoration and admiration of the coolest girl in school (and the fact that she's actually excited to have my horrible chud of a kid), a promotionless raise, then a raiseless promotion, and a group of friends who I think are the greatest peeps around and my head is getting pretty big.  Oh, and speaking of, I gots a package that UPS can't even deliver.  If you catch my drift.  Hurr.

You may be thinking this could all just be contentment with a life that seems to be going well.  I'm healthy, the wind is in my direction for now, and while I'm not rich or rolling in bikes and/or teen nymphos I'm a happy guy.  But I know my own mind.  There's a difference between thinking, "Man, I'm in the best shape of my life.  Good for me, super-duper." and "Yeah, you'd do me.  We both know it.  Let's not pretend otherwise.  Ughn."

See what I mean?  But the latter is pretty much what's going on in my head when I'm out in the world.  Even if the voice is more Jemaine Clement doing "Business Time" than Barry White doing "Let's Get it On", I'm still not so sure I like all that going on up there.  What kind of mental state is that for a guy like me to have?  When did this happen?!  Take how silly and ridiculous that internal dialogue sounded to you and amplify it by ten, and that's how dumb it feels to be the one admitting it and picturing it from your angle.  I blame Kasey for giving me a constant diet of compliments and physical attention disproportionate to the reality of my physical merits.  You ladies gotta be careful with that stuff, it's dangerous business.

So what now?  Is awareness enough to make me stop staring at my legs whenever my pants are off?  Is simply admitting I have a problem enough to turn off the Isaac Hayes-voiced stream of self-compliments that goes on and on and on?  Will knowing that you know that I know that you know that I think you'd probably hump me stop it from going through my mind?  Probably not.  Just like any kind of internal change it's going to take time and practice.

So if you catch me walking like I've got "Stayin' Alive" going through my head, and I look over and smile at you with a mischievous grin, just shake your head at me and give me the kinda look your grandma would if you were being bad.  That'll help.

 - David

Hey David, how was your weekend?

"Hey David, how was your weekend?"

"Good, good. I went out after work on Friday (after not eating all day and biking about fifteen miles), drank a hard cider followed by approximately seven Irish Car Bombs in quick succession, and then proceeded to throw up at the table into glasses, into my lap, and onto the floor.

Afterward I stumbled outside, half blind, and proceeded to bitch about the cold while Kurtz supervised and used a tree to support myself until I decided to just throw up on all fours onto the grass. Then David S., Kasey, Kurtz, or some combo of all three got me into David's car and I held a bag to my face until we got to my place. I don't remember any of the trip. Besides making sure I kept the plastic bag around my face at all times. Can you say you asphyxiation?

Then I was carried into my apartment by David S. and Kasey like I was a wounded soldier and promptly found myself lying in bed without any clothes on. The lovely Kasey had provided a bucket, water, and some Bayer. Apparently I fell asleep with a paper towel over my mouth and woke up once or twice only to throw up and go back asleep again.

Then I woke up for real, took a very slow shower, and laid back down for a while before getting up and starting a Lost marathon. That's been the routine: Taking it easy, hydrating, eating, Lost, repeat."

Friday night was a lot of fun while it lasted. I laughed a ton, saw some good people, and gave innumerable high-fives. I even got lucky and somehow skipped that stage between Fun and Puking where you feel like crap. I jumped straight to black outs and barfing. Go me! And today, besides being weak and slightly woozy in the morning, I've had no hangover. It's like I fell down this big hill and managed to miss every tree and rock and made it to the bottom with only some grass stains. Except the stains smell like the inside of my stomach.

I want to officially apologize to everyone involved for my reckless inebriation. I'm not accustomed to drinking alcohol. To that degree and intensity. I really should have eaten more, drank less, went slower, blah blah blah. I regret nothing, except possibly ruining anyone's night. It can't be super awesome to have a weirdo upchucking near you. Or in your car. Or having to carry him to his house. So for that, I'm sorry.

Now it's time for me to lay down before I go to bed. For all you lucky tossers that don't have to work tomorrow, have a good rest of the weekend.

- David

Any pictures you see in this blog that don't suck are not taken by me, and I am not taking credit for them. I always link the image to the photographer's web page.

I'm Totally Wearing These...

...to my friend David Sakoda's house. If he can wear b-boy style shit over to my apartment it's payback time.

I've wanted a pair of socks with a slit for the big toe since like 2000. My aunt's friend Marcia (who is one of the kick-assiest ladies I know) sent me these in the mail. Her son is marrying a Japanese girl (from Japan!) and I'm flattered she thought of me and sent these over. I couldn't stop giggling as I put them on and then I started running in place for some reason.



I wonder if I could use toe-clips with these things...

- David

What the Fuck?

People are CUNTS.

I've seen this article (http://tinyurl.com/9wks5a) on a couple of different blogs about a concept design that would basically create a laser light bike lane for cyclists that surrounded them when they rode at night.  Maybe not very practical, but a pretty cool idea right?  No need to tear up the street or block it off for God knows how long while new lanes are painted, no spending of tax dollars, but cyclists still get their own little buffer zone to be safe in and cars can see them more easily.  Win-win, yeah? 

No.  People are freaking the fuck out over this.  I'm not making any of these comments up, I wish I were:

First comment:
By Kelevra at 1:44 AM ON 01/16/09
"I swear to God, if I ever see you on the road with this shit, I will run you down and back up just to make sure I got you."

By Auntie Hosebag at 1:50 AM ON 01/16/09
"Yeah, or just STAY THE HELL OUT OF THE DAMN STREET!!"

By Yogurt at 3:41 AM ON 01/16/09
"I agree 100% with Kelevra and the fact that there are two of us already means there would be a whole lot of us more out there in the world. Being that self involved to give yourself your own bike lane makes people want to run you over."

By retired524 at 7:24 PM ON 01/19/09
"WHAT I DONT UNDERSTAND IS WHY BICYCLES HAVE THEIR OWN LANE WITHOUT PAYING FOR IT, LIKE= NO LICENSE PLATES, NO TABS, TAXES JUST ILLEGAL MOVES AND WHEN THEY WANT TO USE A BICYCLE LANE. A CAR CANT GO IN THERE LANE, BUT THEY CAN COME IN OURS AND GO ON THE SIDEWALK, ETC. LICENSE PLATES= 6 INCHES LONG, 3 INCHES WIDE. ???????"

Also, despite many people stating it's illegal and more dangerous, people still ask why cyclists can't just use the sidewalk.  I really have to hand it to the cycle-friendly commentors for keeping their cool.

It's the law that cyclists have a right to the road, and it's the law that cyclists get at least four feet of room when being passed.  And since when do cyclists not have to pay any taxes?  How did I miss that boat?

These people are basically saying they want to main and kill other people because they obey the law and ride a bike on the road, and would use a device that could make doing so more safe.  What the fuck?

As a human being who fears for his life from inattentive, impatient, asshole drivers every time he goes to work, to the store, to see friends, to enjoy himself, this is extremely upsetting and offensive to read.  Meat eaters?  I don't care, whatever.  Hardcore Christians?  Do what thou wilt.  Republicans, racists, Neo-Nazis, Pro-lifers, etc?  We're different, I don't agree with you, but it doesn't bother me.  People wanting to run other people over for nothing?  I can't even find the words.  I can't understand the animosity in this situation, I really can't.

When it's car vs. bike, car always wins and the douche bag kept safe inside by re-enforced steel, airbags, and safety glass only has to change the angle of their ankle and the hydraulic-assisted steering wheel to change or take a life away forever.  Purposefully or not.

These people should be lashed onto a bike and chased by an SUV until they drop from exhaustion before having their legs crushed under the slowly turning tires.

 - David

Free Day at the Musuem!

creeeepy.jpg, originally uploaded by BodhiDave.

I met Kurtz and some nice strangers of his at the Chrysler Museum last night and took some pics, had some fun. I definitely shouldn't have waited as long as I did to go.

Click the pic for more.

- David

Rollers!

After over a year of wanting, I finally found me some rollers. Warning: Boring video ahead. The only consolation is the song is fun.


Rollahs from David Buchta on Vimeo.
The first night I got them I was all excited to hop on and do some rollin'. I was in for a surprise.

Most rollers don't offer any resistance, but instead help with balance and efficient pedaling. Riding on them sorta feels like riding on ice. The bike is all over the place and steering adjustments have to be tiny or else you're going off one side or the other. I won't lie, it was scary. I couldn't let go of the table for more than a few seconds before I started to go wonky and had to steady myself again.

I gave it another try today and did much better. After I got used to how it felt and just relaxed I was even able to watch House while spinning away. I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship. Hope the downstairs neighbors can't hear anything.

- David

Can This Count As My Yearly Wreck?

Due to skill, luck, cowardice or a combination of all three I'm pretty much a wreck-free cyclist. Which is probabilistically surprising since my last wreck was hitting that Hummer in August of 2007 and I bike pretty much every where I go. According to The Art of Urban Cycling (which is a good book for any cyclist to read) "major" accidents statistically happen once a year. So I've been waiting and watching, wary for a wreck to wreak... havoc. I couldn't think of another "w" word.

As a point of reference I'm not counting falling over in my living room after I got clipless pedals for the first time or tipping over at four miles an our when a raised sidewalk edge stopped my wheel from going where the rest of the bike was. Those aren't wrecks, those are just embarrassing.

Having commutes on Virginia Beach Blvd (three lanes, almost a highway) and then Hampton Blvd (three lanes, sinkholes, potholes, and assholes all over the place) you'd think I'd have a lot more horror stories besides "Wind was crazy!" and "Startled by a squirrel!" But I don't. Besides having to yell at the occasional person so they don't force me body-kiss the side of their car, everything goes pretty smoothly.

This cold January morning though, I had what I would consider to be a wreck, but only just barely.

It's been rainy lately, and then it got pretty cold. This morning it was a little below freezing when I headed out on the 8.5 mile commute up to the base. As I rode down the street I noted inert water in the gutters, still shaded from the sun by the lip of the sidewalk. I thought, "Oh, ice. Nice." and pedaled along.

Making the transition from Downtown to Ghent usually happens crossing Brambleton Blvd, where I have a short amount of time to make it to the next major intersection before the light changes. It's a daily race I run, and usually I do okay. Today however I was behind three or four cars, so my start was a little delayed. I sprinted anyway, remembering that quitters never win and was about two car-lengths away from the crosswalk when the light turned yellow. I pedaled harder, deciding to go for it, and as I neared the intersection slower than I would have liked I chose instead to turn right and do a little u-turn into the parking lot of 7-11 and back onto the road instead of possibly getting run over by an impatient person late for work.

All went smoothly until I went to leave said parking lot. I popped a little wheely over a rend in the road that had a tiny bit of water in it and aimed Jenny up the street, when suddenly my bike was sliding away and from under my body at an alarming rate. No time to get my shoes out of the clips, no time to make any noise, just bam! On the ground. Helmet glancing off the cold pavement and everything. I was cursing and saying "What the fuck was that?!" to no one. Nobody was around, the cars were all still waiting for their lights to go green. Which was lucky, cuz I could have gotten run over or something.


I rolled over onto my side, got my legs from under the bike and got on the sidewalk. What I thought was a little splash of water was actually a thin sheen of ice. I had taken a turn on ice with road tires too hard and went down like a heavy-headed hooker on Jupiter. I bent my knees, moved my arms, rotated my head, and everything was fine. My iPod had skipped but it was okay. Purveying the damage as I changed at work, my ankle, knee, thigh and fleshy hand part are banged up, but that's it.

I know that was a lot of buildup for something so small (ask my girlfriend, she knows all about that! Zing!) but I wanted to do a proper blog post for once, with links and pictures and the whole deal. I been e-mailing them in too much lately.

It's Friday bitches, and I got one day to wind down and live it up all at the same time. Be safe out there, and watch for douches falling over on the roads.

- David

I Didn't Like Bad Weather...

Until the wind blew me so hard yesterday! Hyuck yuck!

Local news this morning:
"More than 2,500 power customers in Hampton Roads remained without power shortly before 7 a.m. today after storms ripped through the area, toppling trees and knocking down power lines Wednesday night.

Norfolk police reported a tree down on a house in the 500 block of Draper Drive. No was injured, police said.

About 14,500 Dominion customers in southeast Virginia were without power at 11:30 p.m., according to the Dominion Web site. This morning, a little more than 1,200 Dominion customers were without power in northeast North Carolina.

At about 6:30 p.m. Wednesday the National Weather Service warned of high winds associated with a line of thunderstorms moving through Hampton Roads and northeast North Carolina.

The storms brought wind gusts of up to 50 miles per hour as well as small hail and heavy rainfall, according to the weather service.

A small craft advisory and gale warning were issued this morning by the National Weather Service."

I rode home in that! It was probably the scariest and shittiest weather I have ever biked in. My feet felt like frozen clay by the time I got home and those huge gusts were pushing me towards all kinds of places I didn't want to go. I had to put on my face mask cuz the pelting rain was hurting my face and ears.

Still, it was an adventure. I thought about waiting for the bus but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to ride in some heinous conditions. I kept laughing each time a huge gust threatened to knock me over and I'm glad I didn't take the bus.

On the other hand, having dry shoes this morning would have been nice... I need one of them drying racks or something.

- David

Appy Partment

Hmm, I wonder what this could be?


View Larger Map
- David

The Rider

"The rider is ready. Every fiber of his body is tensed. The interests at stake here are enormous. He knows the opposition is strong and varied, but he is not afraid. In his mind, all is absolute silence, tension, certainty.

Then the traffic light turns green. Two, three strokes and the rider is spurting full out; there he goes, the first to shoot across the tramline, earning him the usual hundred-thousand-guilder premium. Of all his rivals, a Volkswagen poses the greatest threat, but the rider squeezes out every last drop and succeeds in throwing himself over the front of the crosswalk first, then over the back of the crosswalk, as first past a traffic post and as first past a garbage can: four more fat prizes of one hundred thousand guilders each. Then the Volkswagen passes him.

But he's still first among two-wheelers! He passes the back and then the front bumpers of two parked cars, the two curbs of a side street and an advertising kiosk before a scooter catches up with him; by then, however, that's earned him another seven times one thousand guilders.

The rider is about to cut in and coast when he sees up ahead a woman on a bike, with a child on the back. Two hundred thousand guilders if he passes her before she gets to that pole. Two hundred thousand! Even though he's nowhere near having recovered from his sprint, the rider jumps again with all his might. No way he can ever beat this woman. But this rider has surprised the sporting world before, and this time he gives it ever milli-billimeter he's got: in a desperate attempt, he pitches forward.

The woman sticks out her hand and turns down a side street.

The rider rolls out, slowly catches his breath, cruises up to the next traffic light. He stands and eyes his opponents. The BMW motorcycle seems fairly invincible.

A million if he beats it to the crosswalk anyway!"

I think I've talked about this book before, called The Rider by Tim Krabbé. It's a thin little read, $13 at Barnes & Noble. I lent a copy to my amigo Jeff and then he moved, taking the book with him! It's cool though, cuz Kasey got me another one as part of my b-day spoiling.

The book takes place in a rider's head during a 137 kilometer bicycle road race. The excerpt above is one my favorite parts, as I think all cyclists have gone through some variation of this game with regularity. It's a fun read and easy to get caught up in; it captures a lot of the varied emotions I go through when riding hard, from hopelessness to confusion and elation to self-chastisement. Throughout the book you can tell the author (and the rider) loves cycling for it's own sake and even the torturous aspects of the race are worth it.

If you're in the market for a good, quick read that will make you feel like you've expended yourself, pick it up.

- David

New Year's Resolutions

The end of the year is always a strange time for me. I think it's the combination of turning a year older and having the year begin again at roughly the same time. I'm not sure how other people are but I've always felt a sort of accumulation as the year progresses, and a slate-clearing on the first day of January. Like arriving at a resting point after a long night of driving on a road trip and starting again fresh the next morning.

In writing this I realize this year is different. My internal clock is no longer set to the cold, numbered, Gregorian calendar, but to the timing of the tiny life that grows beneath my encircling arm as sleep covers we three. The start of our new year and the clearing of our slate will be sometime in the spring.

As the years go by I'm less and less compelled to make New Year's resolutions but I always try to make a couple anyway. To a lot of people it's just another day, but I welcome an excuse to take a brief look back and see what I'd like to change going forward. So here we go.

Firstly, I'm going to write more. This is partly because I like it so much and partly because people keep telling me I need to do it. True, these people are family members and persons I'm currently sleeping with, but the encouragement is nice. I'm pretty sure I said this two or three years ago, but I'm going to start a journal or a notebook I write in every day. I probably need to practice if I'm going to do anything with my writing, which would be nice. I'd really like to do some kind of comic or graphic novel, but I have no artistic talent. Maybe I should put art classes in this list somewhere…

Concerts. I need to go to more concerts this year. I went to ONE MUTHAFLIPPIN' CONCERT last year, and that's just not acceptable. Unlike my girl Kasey, I wasn't a big concert kid in my younger days. She's been to so many concerts I wonder how she had time for anything else, and I envy her. Growing up in Idaho, and then being a poor geek in Phoenix, I didn't really get into that scene. Which is very sad to me now that I've seen a live show by a band I really love. Tom Waits, Trent Reznor, Jenny Lewis, and others better prepare themselves this year to a see a weird looking guy yelling in the front row and trying to steal an article of their clothing.

Legs. Big legs. Big motorboatin' legs. Huge, trackstar, legs. This is purely a vanity item, but I have a dream to have thighs so big people think I've had half of a liposuction procedure done and calves that would seem to indicate steroid use or implants. Of course this would also hopefully mean I'm a fast bastard on a bike, which is a daily goal of mine. To this end I plan to eat better, get enough protein (which I haven't been consistently doing), stay limber with yoga, continue to ride daily, and hit the gym. I'm not a big guy, but I hope that with blind determination and soy I'll be successful.

Another resolution I always set, new year or not, is to start meditating again. With a kid on the way I'm going to need all the mindfulness and peace I can get.

I really need to keep in touch with my family. I'm horrendous with this. Truly.

Maybe this will be the year I get my personal hygiene under control. I dunno, possibly next year. I'm going to be pretty busy.

- David

BD B-Day

As I so subtly mentioned a few times this week, Tuesday was my birthsday. The man you know as BuddhaDave, aka Y.T., aka David, aka That Weird Kid Who Blogs turned a ripe twenty-six years old.

Luckily we had scheduled an ultrasound for that same day so I had a valid reason to leave work early. After putting in a five hour day on the phones I biked home and was immediately whisked away by Kasey and her mom. I dunno why, but apparently we've been going to a hospital in either North Carolina or Florida and it takes AGES to get there. Having not eaten anything all day (and biking a hard seventeen miles to boot) I passed the time eating Ritz crackers and wincing at Kasey's mom's driving. According to the ultrasound lady lil' Jonas is right on schedule in terms of weight and length and all that, and apparently is packing some major heat for a baby, if you get my meaning. *wink wink, nudge nudge*

Afterward my friends & co-workers Nancy and David S. met the lovely Kasey and I at a very local Mexican joint where food and libation soon ensued. We promptly destroyed about ten pounds of free chips and salsa before starting in on the hard stuff. Making sure I had the whole Beer Before Liquor nursery rhyme correct I had me a whiskey sour first and then a beer or two. David S. being the good friend that he is then ordered some rounds of tequila and I was instructed on the salt/shot/lemon technique and had a chance to practice it three or four times before the night was over. Kurtz showed up somewhere before the last couple of rounds but after I had donned the gold and black Birthday Sombrero.

Nancy had to be home for some dumb reason and started the beginning of the end of phase one. David S. was a peach and walked us home before heading out himself. Phase two began (and ended) at my place with laughable movies and bourbon shots followed by See's Candy chocolate chasers. We watched a movie called Wolf Girl or Blood Moon, depending on where you live which ended up being pretty awesome. Or maybe it was the booze. After that we started People Under the Stairs which I have seen multiple times and is always entertaining.

Somewhere in here I got up to get some cereal and had about half a dozen spoon-fulls before I started feeling a little funny. Bed time was announced when I got queasy from looking down at my dog and decided I needed to lay down. Kurtz missed the last ferry to Norfick and ended up sleeping on my couch. Six hours later when my alarm went off for work I drank some water, downed some aspirin, and decided I wasn't going to make it in. I phoned in before my shift was starting and spent the first half of the day recovering and the second half enjoying my lady's company, eating, and making sure the couch stayed warm. When I finally wobbled out of bed for real I took two steps into the living and said, "I'm sorry, just a sec, I'm gonna throw up" and promptly did. But only a little. I'd like to officially add mushrooms to the list of things that make me think I've thrown up pieces of my internal bits, if only for a second. I immediately felt better afterward.

I thoroughly enjoyed the marking of my twenty-sixth trip around El Sol and want to say thanks to my friends, my fiance´, my family, and to the forces that be for keeping me around this long. I'm grateful for everything.

- David