The blog will have a new look and theme days up *hopefully* by the end of this week. I've been busy designing new banners and test driving new looks.
For those of you that know me in real life, this is probably the busiest I've ever been, so please be patient. This is my very last semester of college, and I'm desperately trying to stay caught up on my last couple of photography classes on top of everything else.
Sometimes the blogs that I follow daily suddenly seem one day that they are totally self-centered and egotistical. I really don't want my posts to be like that. I'm aiming for more of a "Let me show you some cool things I've discovered and if you don't think they're cool, that's A-OK" vibe.
Having said that, the following story is somewhat self-indulgent but on this crappy of all crappy days, it made me happy:
This is not a story of one of those times when you look back after an argument with someone and say "I should have told so-and-so this. That would have showed 'em." This is a story of my mind working in time to come up with that response. And I shouted it. Loud. Really loud.
As a bike commuter, you become accustomed to constantly dodging oblivious drivers turning and backing into your lane. You also get used to occasional yelling out of car windows, things like, "Get off the road, hippie," which I take great objection to. I'm no damn hippie, sir.
Off topic. So riding my bike yesterday down a fairly quiet downtown Fargo street, I do a rolling stop through a red light. I made sure from far enough back that there were no cars, and that being the case, I proceeded through the intersection.
In the oncoming lane, a delivery truck is stopped with its parking lights on. From behind it, a man and his toddler child come walking out. I stop. It wasn't even an abrupt stop, giving them at least 10 feet to safely cross in front of me.
The man turns and yells at me "Those stop lights are for you too, you know."
This is it people. I didn't miss a single beat. Turning my head as I continue to bike so I'm sure he catches every word, I say, "And those crosswalks are for you too, you know."
Bam! OK. I know you may think "What a moronic story, dummy." But I rode the rest of the way to campus smiling. Once there, I shared the story with anyone who I thought would care. They didn't really. I guess it just goes to show that even if you do think of that awesome comeback, you might be the only person to appreciate it.
***
And because no blog is complete without a photo, I leave you with my new cat. Take it away, Jimmy.
He wasn't a fan of the story either. No hard feelings.
