blogging on the go-go

Hello all, Im testing my ability (or my phones ability) to blog on the go. Last night I sat down with the full intention to write a blog, but the urge and inspiration soon disolved into an urgent need to sleep. Now however, im in the mood to blog (or rather, im in the mood for some caffeine fueld waffle) but im miles from my laptop - tis a very first world, modern conundrum "oh gollygolly i just want to share my innermost, totally unimportant thoughts with the world, but im not in reach of my computer!" *whips out mobile* Global tragedy ever so narrowly averted.  I cant hit enter for some reason, if you're wondering. I assume that means i should have got an iphone. then again, merely existing today is sufficient reason to *need* an iphone like your life depends upon it. So what am I doing miles from my computer? (yes it does occur on the odd occasion) Well don't worry, im not driving a car (id have to actually own one) I am on a train. and i will be untill my arse is so numb it might fall off. ill be on this train until the end of time, or for the next 50mins that it takes me to cross the city, and end up in rockingham. and it occured to me that if i was in germany or anywhere in europe, or even just probably the other side of this rather obese continent, 50mins on a train would take me from some inconsequential (but no doubt picturesque) town to a diff city, and maybe through 2 other cities on the way. but here in perth, it just gets me to the other side of town. such is the sprawl of this urban land, and the relative emptiness of its surrounds. still, a timely thought presents itself to me, were i in europe right now, 50 minutes on a train might carry me to paris, or even to my favourite city berlin b ut I wouldnt want to be there, because rockingham (which i could spend hours deriding) has one thing neither berlin or prague has - my girlfriend. (group sigh) and on that note, having gone of on a complete tangent and adequately waffled my way through 50 mins, i bid you farewell.

Cycling

I’ve been reading a few bike blogs recently, which got me thinking about cycling and why I do it/ why you should do it. My blog, despite referring to my bicycle in its name, is not a bike blog, nor was it ever conceived as one. (It’s dedicated purely to waffle) Today however, I shall masquerade as a bike blogger as I ponder the pros and cons of day-to-day life on two wheels.

Cons

Hazards – Plentiful. Includes cars, trucks, planes, rocks, tree roots, pedestrians, bees, birds, buses, motorbikes, other cyclists, dogs, shonky footpaths, glass, potholes, pensioners, non-existent bike lanes and so on ad infinitum

Rain – there is the potential you will arrive at your destination looking like soggy toast. This can be avoided by some kind of spectacular rain-wear, but luckily in Perth, rain is a fairly infrequent occurrence anyway.

40+ Degrees in the shade – Unfortunately, bikes don’t have a very efficient heating and cooling system. Some day’s, the sun wants to burn you to a cinder, melt your tyres to the path and permanently stick your clothes to your body. You arrive at your destination smelling like you just poured a bucket of deodorant over yourself, in need of a shower and an ice bath. On the other hand, on a frosty winter’s morning you can lose all feeling in your fingers and toes, and feel like you could snap your nose off. Joy.

Wind – One benefit of cars is that they operate at pretty much the same speed, regardless of wind conditions. Cycling does not have this benefit. A vicious wind can make your trip take double the amount of time

Exercise – Cycling is technically a sport. You are required to do more than ‘press go’ to move anywhere. Some days, you simply cannot be bothered.

Groceries¬ – more than once I have got a little over excited in the supermarket that I’ve had more than a little difficult cycling home

Pros

Green factor- Theme song “Let’s get political, political”.

Bike riding is a friggin political statement my friends. For exmaple, ever heard of Critical Mass? “Critical Mass is a monthly bicycle ride to celebrate cycling and to assert cyclists' right to the road.” http://critical-mass.info/  But it’s more than that, it represents an ideology which envisages a different world. Cycling on a day-to-day basis is an easier way to green up your world. Disowning your automotive says, “Fuck you oil barons and your wars, I am a non-carbon emitting, independent, carrot-fuelled prodigy. I reduce urban smog and stand up against peak hour traffic. I’m so ethical sometimes I surprise myself.” What can I say, I’m a fan.

(Here, an interesting article on Bicycles and social movements by Dave Horton (some random google lead me to) http://thinkingaboutcycling.wordpress.com/article-environmentalism-and-the-bicycle/ )

Economics – Cheaaaap. Which as a student, or underemployed bum, greatly appeals to me. Cycling means no petrol, rego, licence or parking costs. It means no parking fines, and limited running costs. Depending on your personal tastes, a bike could set you back between $50 for your 4th hand rust-bucket, and $10 000 for a fang-dangled carbon thing that floats like a bee and stings like a butterfly. After that, you’ve got the occasional spare tube to fix, brake pad to change, helmet to replace, water bottle to fill up...

En Vogue – Cycling, in my well sort after fashion opinion, is just a little bit ‘in’ at the moment. As with the surge in popularity of vintage clothing, an old school bike can be, if nothing else, a neat little accessory. For example http://www.copenhagencyclechic.com/

Exercise– the easiest way (and in fact the only way for me usually) to find 30, is to exercise whilst moving from A to B. Not only is it multitasking, it also means I arrive at work at 8.15 with a brain that has been properly oxygenated.

Slow the pace – you need to allow more time for pedal-power to get you around the place, but far from seeing this as a con, I enjoy the journey.

Picture from http://www.copenhagenize.com/

Rats can jump and other nightmares

I don’t really understand why people are scared of rats. Big, gross, wound-eating sewer rats withstanding, rats are cute, creative and interesting critters to have in your home. Strictly on a pet-owner basis that is. Personally, a lot scares me. I hate scary shit-in-your-pants and lets-hack-everyone-into-pieces type movies. I fundamentally do not understand the rationale that says these movies are enjoyable. I just don’t like the edge of my seat, or the view from behind my pillow, or waking up after having nightmares about long fingernail-wielding cannibal pensioners. Last night I had an uneasy sleep commandeered by nightmares. I awoke multiple times from nasty dreams full of running, hiding and murdering. The fear only intensified when I woke, whimpering like a 3 year old in need of a cuddle, terrified of the dark and the host of terrible possible ways to be tortured or killed it suddenly seem to have. Undoubtedly, I am an epic wuss. But rats? Scary? Lies.


Judge them by their Hollywood-esq reputation and you will find them dirty, evil, devilish bastards. But get to know one, and you’ll doubtless be converted. (And if you aren’t, I suggest you go right out and buy yourself a heart.) My rat Olive, who I may or may not have made frequent recent to of late, is anything but scary, even if she does tries to attack your feet whilst you walk. We’ve had 4 rats in this house over the years, and they have all had interesting and entertaining personal quirks and interests. Olive is nothing if not an adventurer. There is officially nowhere in my room that she cannot go. (And yes, I let her run wherever she likes in my room.) She has conquered my bookshelves, can negotiate her way onto my dressing table, knows all the ins and outs of my closet and, just recently, has become such a good jumper that she can hop from the rubbish bin, to my desk chair, and onto my desk in the blink of an eye. She may be a nightmare to keep track of, but let me tell you she is so much more entertaining than TV. (By the by, I am deathly sick of hearing about the new independent MP’s, anyone else?)This afternoon while lazing around sleepy from my nightmare-filled night, I have seen her climb, almost comically, inside a jar, climb up the fly screen on my door, happily shred the paper in my rubbish bin and sneakily make off with my strategically placed post-it notes, which she not-so-sneakily proceeds to destroy. I think perhaps in a previous life she may have been Sir Edmund Hillary, or Indiana Jones himself...

And I’m going to stop right there, lest I waffle another 100 words about how extraordinary my child is. Rat, I meant rat.