wickedqueen.net

The post title is really only funny if you have seen my father perform a public service announcement from his childhood concerning the inadvisability of touching blasting caps on construction sites, imitating Willie Mays, with metacommentary by his schoolmates (”You could lose an arm or a leg… which you may need in later life. If you see them, call the police, or a fireman. Let HIM lose an arm or a leg… he doesn’t have as much later life coming to him as you do.”) Maybe someday we can put it on YouTube, along with my Scottish great-great(?)-grandfather’s admonishment that son, you’re going to college, and if you’re gonna drink, JOHNNY DEWAR.

However, the general thrust of the title does work with today’s topic, which is: Your Health & Safety.

1) Carry condoms. If there is any chance that you think you might be going to have sex with someone with whom you do not have a long-standing association, an explicit contraceptive arrangement, AND credible assurances of a clean bill of health, you should have condoms with you. Sometimes people do not want to admit they are planning to do something like this, because they think it is immoral, and people prefer not to plan behavior they think is bad even if they are likely to do it anyway, because they’d rather pretend they’re not. The morality of casual sex is basically your own concern,* but try to think about your past behavior (which is a way better predictor of future behavior than attitudes are) and just, you know, be prepared. Just because you have them doesn’t mean you have to use them. And you know, maybe someone ELSE will need one, and then they’ll owe you. Think of the backlog of favors you could accumulate. To this end, you might also want to carry around tampons, pain killers, and a hip flask.**

2) Wear a bicycle helmet, for the love of god. The other night I stopped at Trader Joe’s for a few odds and ends and the cashier, who I think was trying to be ingratiating, commented that, gee whiz, you don’t think about helmets and lights and stuff until you have a bike accident and then you sure realize that they’re a good thing to have! Actually, I have never been in a real bike wreck, various near-misses with idiotic motorists and that time I flipped over when I was 10 and still learning to use hand brakes notwithstanding. However, I do FEAR DEATH, and so I wear a bicycle helmet.*** Just recently frippy was in a bike wreck that cracked her helmet; as she remarked, she didn’t realize how bad it really was until she realized what it did to her helmet. She got off with a deep contusion in one leg, instead of a concussion or worse, because she was wearing a helmet. And of course there was that UW-Madison grad student who got hit by the UPS truck. As frippy points out, there are people who would never drive without a seat belt or stick their hands out of fast-moving passenger trains who blithely pedal around town with no helmet. BAD IDEA.

2b) If you are on a bike, do not ride the wrong damn direction in a bike lane. If there is any justice in the world, you will be hit by lightning, and also I will scream at you if you do it near me.

2c) If you are driving a car, follow the damn law and don’t try to turn left over bicyclists who have the fucking right of way because they are going straight through the intersection. I am talking to you, stupid woman at the intersection of Regent and Monroe with whom I had the misfortune to meet some time between 8:15 and 8:30 am on Friday, October 5th.

2d) But also, don’t try to politely yield the right of way to bicyclists when you have it. It makes me nervous, because you know, it’s never entirely clear if that’s what you’re doing or if you’re just momentarily distracted and about to hit the accelerator again and also, you do not control everyone else on the road! Just follow the law! We all (theoretically) know what it is, which cuts down on the potentially fatal misunderstandings, okay?

3) If you need help, do not be embarrassed to ask a stranger. Pretty much everyone would rather call 911 for you when you can still provide some relevant information than have to report finding your non-responsive or lifeless body. And in many situations, they may not realize you need help (and are not just, say, having an emotional meltdown in the ladies’ room) unless you tell them, so SAY SOMETHING. Embarrassment is generally not fatal.

4) Do not use Mr. Clean Magic Erasers on exposed skin, even if you are covered in pink stains. You will get a rash, which is arguably more unsightly than the pink stains and definitely more painful.

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*Readers, long-term and walk-through, may draw their own conclusions about my opinion on the subject.

+Some local legal restrictions may apply.

One of the awesomer things about my new apartment is its proximity to the bike path. When I tell other grad students where I live, they often exclaim, aghast, that it’s “so far!” It’s really not. It’s less than three miles from where I work and I can bike it in about 15 minutes. I am told that the city of Madison has special snowplows specifically for the bike paths, so I should be able to commute without too much difficulty throughout the winter.

Also, I’ve discovered that in my new location, I am much closer to places that were always a pain to reach before, like, say, real grocery stores (Capitol City Foods so, SO does not count, no matter what they told the new post-doc about living downtown). There’s even a Sally Beauty within about two miles, so I can keep stocked up on my many grooming supplies.* And finally, the bike path is in WAY better shape than most of the roads around here, so it’s a nice smooth ride when I can keep to it.

At night, however, when it is cold and there are still puddles everywhere although at least it’s finally stopped raining, and the bike path is really, REALLY dark, it is kind of scary (although there are reflectors along the edge whenever it curves at all). Naturally, all I could think about the whole way home was vampires, and how even a very small and weak vampire could definitely overtake a bicycle, and how crashing into a vampire on your bicycle is probably not covered by renter’s insurance** (although actually, it seems pretty obvious that the curséd undead should not count as “Act of God”).

What I really should have been worried about was rabbits, which were a) everywhere and b) apparently very depressed. One of them ran back and forth across the path in front of me like three times–I want to die! Wait, no! Yes! No!–and another one paced me alongside the path for a nerve-wracking minute during which I was sure he was going to leap under my front wheel at any moment. Carly recently mentioned the current plague of insane Madison chipmunks, but I’ve mostly just seen the rabbits, and a few squirrels–although I did see a squashed chipmunk on Tokay this weekend. I assume it was hit by a car rather than a bike.

Perhaps these particular suicide rabbits thought I was some kind of strange cycling rabbit robot, based on the placement of my back light. It is red and sort of triangular with clipped off corners, and I used to clip it to my backpack when I biked in the dark but now that I have panniers, I don’t ride with a backpack anymore.*** Anyway, the light could be mounted on my rear rack, if I had the mount for it, but I have no idea where it went and I haven’t gotten to the bike shop to ask them to rig something up yet. Consequently, when I ride after dark I have to clip the light to the back of my pants, where it blinks merrily in case anyone was in danger of missing my butt. Fortunately, I never looked that dignified to begin with.

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*Developer, activating powder, lightener–you need all three of the preceding to make bleach–color-protective shampoo, color-sealing treatment, color-protective conditioner, super moisturizing hair masque conditioner, special protein serum to mend breakage… I don’t just wake up with beautiful, effortless pink hair, dear reader.

+Renter’s insurance includes liability.

Isn’t it cute how I totally thought I’d be writing my dissertation by now?

To be fair, I do have a paper I wrote this spring that I plan to transform into a chapter, and I also didn’t realize when I made the post linked above that I would be spending Spring 2007 as a not-TECHNICALLY-enrolled visiting student at MIT rather than taking classes for actual credit back in Madison. I’d still only have a semester of coursework left, except that our required methods course is ONLY offered in the spring. It’s not so bad; I’m going to be TA’ing anyway, so a light course load is a good thing. And I HAVE passed both my prelim exams, which is probably difficult to appreciate if you don’t have any of your own to take, but believe me, it’s a relief (even if no one can figure out how I managed to finish prelims and still have classes left to take). Finishing up my coursework this spring, I should still be able to get out by Spring 2010, which puts my time in the program at the average for students entering without an MS (seven years*).

I still want a dining room table. And possibly another cat,** because I have not done enough damage to my marital prospects with all this graduate education.

I’ll be back in Madison in a week.*** It’s a little weird to consider, having spent a year away in places with TRAINS and many sources of Indian food, but at least they got a Trader Joe’s, and I miss my friends there. I’m feeling more positive about it this week than I have pretty much since last September, which I suppose could be a last-ditch self-preservation trick of my subconscious, but you know, whatever, I’m willing to just think I’m content if necessary. I’m looking forward to the farmers’ market, and having my cats again (and a vet who I trust at the UW vet school), and half-price cocktails at the Opus (the Cha Cha Cha matches my hair, and as we have recently learned, is a vital source of antioxidants by virtue of containing berries in its alcohol). I’m looking forward to classes (yes, finishing them especially) and being a TA.

I’m also looking forward to buying a commuter-road bike. Any recommendations on where to buy a new bike in Madison? Preferred retailers, etc.? I sold my 10-year-old mountain bike on craigslist this weekend,**** so this week I am riding my absent housemate’s commuter-road bike. I feel as if I have gone from a comfortable, well-bred mule to a high-strung Arabian warhorse, but this is probably largely due to the bicycle frame being too big for me, even with the seat all the way down. I still don’t want another mountain bike; even the good ones are too heavy for my needs. I do, however, anticipate that I will probably have to paint the new bike myself if I want it to suit me.

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*Mention this figure to a student in the hard sciences and watch them recoil in horror, but I sort of like the symbolism of it–v. folkloric. About the length of time you’d expect to spend, say, in the thrall of an evil witch+ or asleep inside a pearl at the bottom of an ocean of dragon spit.

+Not to imply anything about my advisors. No! Really! Please let me graduate.

Note: It’s sort of buried, so I thought I’d just add an opening note that the point of this whole entry, aside from how cute I am in my cycling clothes, is that I made my first 30-mile ride yesterday. This is somewhat less impressive in light of my father’s latest exploits, but we all have to start somewhere.

I got this jersey half-off from Sierra Trading Post, so it was a reasonable price instead of the usual crazy high one. Another cyclist complimented me on it while I was out riding, and she didn’t even get the full effect of my hair.

As you can see, however, it also pretty much matches my helmet. Also oleander.

I love oleander.

Soon after I took this photo of the fancy houses from afar, I discovered I was hopelessly lost. I don’t know why I continue to be surprised every time this happens. Eventually I had to call my sister and give her my location so that she could figure out how the hell I was supposed to get to Arastradero.

I got so lost that I got to see some of these houses up close. Los Altos Hills is full of them.

Of course, it’s also full of hills. This one has been magically flattened by the act of photography, apparently; I assure you that it was nearly vertical. I actually attempted to bike up it and had to give up about a third of the way up–WALKING up this hill was punishing. Then it turned out to be a dead end. Thanks for signing that, City of Los Altos Hills.

I did eventually make it to Arastradero. Apparently this is what lies beyond my turn-off for work–some kind of mini-vineyard.

Once on Arastradero, I actually even figured out where I made that first wrong turn, so next weekend maybe I’ll actually be able to do the route my landlord recommended, instead of random riding around, getting lost, backtracking, etc. At any rate, I still made 30 miles, so I was pleased. The jersey, in addition to suiting my personal style, was indeed very lightweight and comfortable. I’ve ordered a couple more, plus real bike shorts,* from Sierra Trading Post, since they have a bunch of stuff on clearance and they’d sent me an additional 20% off coupon.

The hair in these photos is already out of date, however, as following my triumphant return I redid my dye job–I’m back to solid Atomic Pink, thanks to Cyn. I couldn’t find the vaseline when I was getting started, which led to an unintended second bike trip to Long’s for supplies (you need vaseline to minimize hairline staining), which I have to say I did not really enjoy–I’d sort of been planning to be totally done with biking for the day. I also picked up some bleach wipes and leave-on spray cleaner for the shower, though. Just trying to reduce my environmental impact.

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*In fact, I ordered two matching ensembles, one purple/rose, one orange/coral. Rest assured I will post photos.

You know, all those years of secondary school gym class, I thought I hated physical activity, but it turns out I just hated fascism.*

I remember all those thousands of hours
that I spent in grade school watching the clock,
waiting for recess or lunch or to go home.
Waiting: for anything but school.
My teachers could easily have ridden with Jesse James
for all the time they stole from me.

–Richard Brautigan, The Memoirs of Jesse James

(My other reflection on biking lately is that the older I get, the more like my father I seem to become. Biking, cooking,** and I’ve started contemplating camping, which was definitely not my thing as a child, at least not after age 8 or so.)

My hair is also getting really faded. I’m loathe to cover the highlights, which still look good (if faded), but probably I’ll dye it all back to Atomic Pink after I get back from visiting my cousin in LA. This does mean that Cyn and I will not be total twinsies if we get together for lunch, but that may well save the universe from implosion,*** so perhaps I should consider it a necessary sacrifice.

And speaking of the universe imploding, today’s Thursday PARC Forum is about dark matter. Maybe I should go.

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*I’ve remarked this to several people now, which is why I can’t remember who thought it should be on a t-shirt. I think it might be a little long.

***I’ve always been a big fan of parallel universes, such as Star Trek Dark Mirror and the Futurama Cowboy Universe. Maybe there’s one where everyone’s got pink hair EXCEPT Cyn and me. I’ll tell you one thing: I bet Evil Bizarro Cabell has really conservative hair. Lime green would be the photo-negative, but I’ve done that, too.

When I first moved in, I bought a frame for nine 5″x7″ photos–I’m a big fan of montage frames. I figured I’d pick out some photos from the prints I’d ordered from Flickr around then, but I didn’t have enough with the same orientation, portrait or landscape, which the frame requires. I finally decided to order some prints for it today, and as a not-very-patient person, I went for the “pick up at Target” option (even though you can only get glossy prints from them, which I don’t really prefer). It turns out, however, that you can’t pick up your photos at just ANY Target. Only certain Targets may be specified.

Unfortunately, the Mountain View Target, which is pretty convenient to my house, is not on the list. The closest was the Sunnyvale Target; I mapped it out with Gmaps Pedometer and it was only an extra eight miles or so, with bike lanes all the way, so I went ahead and ordered them for pick-up. I mentioned this to another intern who had stopped by my office to say hello at the end of the day; he was appalled.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” he asked me.
“I’ll be fine; it’s not that far.”
“To SUNNYVALE? That’s hardcore.”
“I dunno,” I said. I was flashing back to the conversation I’d had with my father yesterday, when he informed me that he’d ridden 78 miles that afternoon:

“I–what?”
“I rode 78 miles.”
“…Did you just say you rode ’seven to eight miles’?”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought.”

As Dad pointed out, he is training for his trip to New Orleans, but I only did 21.7 today and I think my legs may be a little sore tomorrow. Of course, that is on a mountain bike that was never meant for road commuting; I like to think of it as my little exercise weight.

If only I’d yet made time to attach my bike lights and didn’t have to worry about sundown, I would have stayed at the Sunnyvale Target longer to marvel–it was two stories high. I have never seen such a Target. I guess I’ll have to ride back there some time.