Not even earth can hold us
Not even life controls us
Not even the ground can keep us down
The memories in my head
Are just as real the time we spent
You always be close to me
This is not the end
(The Bravery - This is Not the End)
I'm biking. My ride today made me realize that I have an excruciatingly long way to go before I can
honestly consider myself a biker, but I'm biking. I biked a bit last summer and started again on May 23.
I started on my hand-me-down Huffy mountain bike that was far too small for me and moved on to my
mom's probably-Huffy mountain bike that was a somewhat better fit. Since July 18, I now have my
custom/hand-built road bike. Surly frame and white-taped drop handlebars. That's about all I know.
Clearly I am not a biker. Regardless, she is beautiful and I am very much in love. Tomorrow, I will get
a saddle pouch to carry my phone so that I can track my rides/climbs/speeds on Strava. Since May 23,
I've lost twenty pounds and, although still disappointingly low, my cardio endurance has dramatically
I'm back where I belong, at least temporarily. On Tuesday, I complete my move to my semi-permanent
home in Tennessee. Pretty much my entire life is in my car right now, save my computer, my bike, my
phone, and basic necessities to last me for two and a half days.
What I really need is to know my new mailing address. I can't order textbooks without it.
Yesterday was my last day (foreva'!) at the part-time job I'd had since September 2008. The part-time
job. Already is it no longer mine. One of my customers bought me a lottery ticket as a going-away present.
My customers. Still they are mine.
I'm no longer a pot-stirrer. I think. Maybe. I'm not quite sure yet. I began to suspect that I had out-grown
this characteristic when, in spite of having a personal opinion in regards to Chick-fil-a vs. Boston, I had no
desire to make it semi-public information (via Facebook). Well, I had some desire, but I had no desire to
endure/respond to any responses it would inspire. So it went unsaid by me. Maybe I only want to be a
silent pot-stirrer. I guess that's what I've always like most about pot-stirring, anyways. Watching.
I'm working on crying less. It's an experiment.
I'll be in charge of lots of students starting shortly. It sounds like the residence hall that I will be overseeing
houses most of the summer students, so my responsibilities may start earlier than they will in other halls.
Someone once told me that housing buildings at colleges are residence halls, not dorms, because dorms
are housing buildings at jails and prisons. They're still dorms to me. Sorry not sorry.
I may or may not be becoming more and more of an anarchist. I attended an Exploring Liberty seminar
about a month ago and quickly realized that I was probably much more radical than most of the other
students. I'm not going to go into details at this point in time, but I am not (yet?) a full-time anarchist. Rather,
the idea of political implosion and temporary anarchy is becoming more and more appealing.
I'm very much in love.