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Bike Story
Jun. 24th, 2013 02:54 pmI have been getting really, really into Citibiking. I got my key a week ago this past Friday, and I have ridden Friday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday (I was sick Wednesday), and today (I rode my own bike over the weekend). It's pretty much amazing and my new favorite thing! You can just...get a bike, any time you want.
I've modified my habits in such a way to make this easier: changed from a purse to a backpack, carry my helmet with me everywhere, and so on. There are so many places in the city where it's quicker to bike than to wait for a subway.
The best part is that it's increasing my confidence as a cyclist and my confidence in my body in general. I have done things that I didn't think I could do. Cycle from Chelsea over the Brooklyn Bridge? Check. Cycle from QUEENS to the Brooklyn Bridge? Heck yes. I did the latter on my own bike and learned a lot from that. Especially that my bike is not really the right size for me and is probably a large part of why I haven't been especially enthused about distance biking before. I've ridden in places I would never have ridden before because getting my bike TO those places to start riding was too difficult.
Anyway, apart from it making me think a lot about how we carry ourselves (literally and figuratively) and how we transport ourselves, I had this thought today. This is copy/pasted from an email I sent to a friend who is also heavily into Citibike:
I've modified my habits in such a way to make this easier: changed from a purse to a backpack, carry my helmet with me everywhere, and so on. There are so many places in the city where it's quicker to bike than to wait for a subway.
The best part is that it's increasing my confidence as a cyclist and my confidence in my body in general. I have done things that I didn't think I could do. Cycle from Chelsea over the Brooklyn Bridge? Check. Cycle from QUEENS to the Brooklyn Bridge? Heck yes. I did the latter on my own bike and learned a lot from that. Especially that my bike is not really the right size for me and is probably a large part of why I haven't been especially enthused about distance biking before. I've ridden in places I would never have ridden before because getting my bike TO those places to start riding was too difficult.
Anyway, apart from it making me think a lot about how we carry ourselves (literally and figuratively) and how we transport ourselves, I had this thought today. This is copy/pasted from an email I sent to a friend who is also heavily into Citibike:
At lunch today I Citibiked down to a Thai place about ten blocks from my office. I docked my bike (#1015), went to the drugstore to drop off the prescription for my new (red!) inhaler because my lungs have decided to rebel like Bostonians being taxed for tea, walked across the street to the Thai place, ordered myself some tofu and noodles, got my food, picked up my prescription, and went back to the bike station-- which was completely empty, except for one broken bike. (I'm also digging the developing language of "backward seat means broken bike" I'm seeing around the city) I went around the corner and about two blocks to the next station, pulled out a bike...and saw it was #1015 again!
And then I was thinking about what I said on Friday night about bike reviews, which was very much something that would be half in jest, and then I was thinking about stories about objects that travel from person to person, like The Red Violin or The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, and the idea of tracking a single object from place to place and documenting the stories of things that happen to it or to the people in possession of it. I mean, if I hadn't glanced at the numbers, I would never have realized I was on the same bike again.
So then I got back to the office, ate some noodles, and looked at the data on my account, to see if I could find out what bike I'd ridden for previous trips, and saw that the data that Citibike provides doesn't seem to include bike numbers, just trip numbers. We've got stories of docks and trips, but not the bikes themselves, which is vastly more interesting to me, like tagged animals in the wild.
So I'm thinking about that this afternoon, and that I'm going to keep track of my bike numbers from now on, and document trips by bike number somehow. Still percolating. Wondering how to make it a bigger thing than just me. Because I want to know the stories of the people who've been on the bikes I'm riding, whether they rode that bike to get their hair cut or to buy a new set of headphones or to go on a blind date, if an old white lady was terrified of them or a tourist asked where they could get one.
Bike Story
Jun. 24th, 2013 02:54 pmI have been getting really, really into Citibiking. I got my key a week ago this past Friday, and I have ridden Friday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday (I was sick Wednesday), and today (I rode my own bike over the weekend). It's pretty much amazing and my new favorite thing! You can just...get a bike, any time you want.
I've modified my habits in such a way to make this easier: changed from a purse to a backpack, carry my helmet with me everywhere, and so on. There are so many places in the city where it's quicker to bike than to wait for a subway.
The best part is that it's increasing my confidence as a cyclist and my confidence in my body in general. I have done things that I didn't think I could do. Cycle from Chelsea over the Brooklyn Bridge? Check. Cycle from QUEENS to the Brooklyn Bridge? Heck yes. I did the latter on my own bike and learned a lot from that. Especially that my bike is not really the right size for me and is probably a large part of why I haven't been especially enthused about distance biking before. I've ridden in places I would never have ridden before because getting my bike TO those places to start riding was too difficult.
Anyway, apart from it making me think a lot about how we carry ourselves (literally and figuratively) and how we transport ourselves, I had this thought today. This is copy/pasted from an email I sent to a friend who is also heavily into Citibike:
I've modified my habits in such a way to make this easier: changed from a purse to a backpack, carry my helmet with me everywhere, and so on. There are so many places in the city where it's quicker to bike than to wait for a subway.
The best part is that it's increasing my confidence as a cyclist and my confidence in my body in general. I have done things that I didn't think I could do. Cycle from Chelsea over the Brooklyn Bridge? Check. Cycle from QUEENS to the Brooklyn Bridge? Heck yes. I did the latter on my own bike and learned a lot from that. Especially that my bike is not really the right size for me and is probably a large part of why I haven't been especially enthused about distance biking before. I've ridden in places I would never have ridden before because getting my bike TO those places to start riding was too difficult.
Anyway, apart from it making me think a lot about how we carry ourselves (literally and figuratively) and how we transport ourselves, I had this thought today. This is copy/pasted from an email I sent to a friend who is also heavily into Citibike:
At lunch today I Citibiked down to a Thai place about ten blocks from my office. I docked my bike (#1015), went to the drugstore to drop off the prescription for my new (red!) inhaler because my lungs have decided to rebel like Bostonians being taxed for tea, walked across the street to the Thai place, ordered myself some tofu and noodles, got my food, picked up my prescription, and went back to the bike station-- which was completely empty, except for one broken bike. (I'm also digging the developing language of "backward seat means broken bike" I'm seeing around the city) I went around the corner and about two blocks to the next station, pulled out a bike...and saw it was #1015 again!
And then I was thinking about what I said on Friday night about bike reviews, which was very much something that would be half in jest, and then I was thinking about stories about objects that travel from person to person, like The Red Violin or The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, and the idea of tracking a single object from place to place and documenting the stories of things that happen to it or to the people in possession of it. I mean, if I hadn't glanced at the numbers, I would never have realized I was on the same bike again.
So then I got back to the office, ate some noodles, and looked at the data on my account, to see if I could find out what bike I'd ridden for previous trips, and saw that the data that Citibike provides doesn't seem to include bike numbers, just trip numbers. We've got stories of docks and trips, but not the bikes themselves, which is vastly more interesting to me, like tagged animals in the wild.
So I'm thinking about that this afternoon, and that I'm going to keep track of my bike numbers from now on, and document trips by bike number somehow. Still percolating. Wondering how to make it a bigger thing than just me. Because I want to know the stories of the people who've been on the bikes I'm riding, whether they rode that bike to get their hair cut or to buy a new set of headphones or to go on a blind date, if an old white lady was terrified of them or a tourist asked where they could get one.
In which Tea Buys Herself a Doll
May. 23rd, 2013 12:37 amI went to Toys R Us on Monday to buy a stuffed animal as a gift for a friend, and on my way to the register, I passed the Strawberry Shortcake dolls.
Now, when I was little, Strawberry Shortcake was my life. My mother made me a costume. I probably talked Berry Talk a bunch. I must have had a dozen dolls. We couldn't afford the fancy accessories, so my mother sewed little sleeping bags for all of them and gave me an old makeup case for them to live in.
I still remember that there was one doll I wanted desperately: Orange Blossom.
Orange Blossom was probably my first introduction to the idea of tokenism: the sole black character on the TV show and among the dolls.
She also had hair like mine.
In the early 80s, before the advent of Barbie and the Rockers, it was not particularly common to find a doll with curly hair-- especially any kind of curls that looked like natural curls, as opposed to neatly-coiffed ringlets that looked like they'd been made with curlers. There were other Strawberry Shortcakes dolls with curly hair-- quite a lot of them, in fact-- but Orange Blossom had the same short curls I had when I was four years old.
My father brought her back for me from a trip to Georgia. I still remember that I was riding on his shoulders when he gave her to me, and I called him a softie.
Anyway, in the current SSC reboot, the Orange Blossom doll, along with all the other dolls, has long, straight, silky hair. (Her skin is a lighter shade of brown, too).
I've never really had any interest in buying one of the new Strawberry Shortcake dolls, but then I saw this special edition Orange Blossom:
And now I have a doll.
Now, when I was little, Strawberry Shortcake was my life. My mother made me a costume. I probably talked Berry Talk a bunch. I must have had a dozen dolls. We couldn't afford the fancy accessories, so my mother sewed little sleeping bags for all of them and gave me an old makeup case for them to live in.
I still remember that there was one doll I wanted desperately: Orange Blossom.
Orange Blossom was probably my first introduction to the idea of tokenism: the sole black character on the TV show and among the dolls.
She also had hair like mine.
In the early 80s, before the advent of Barbie and the Rockers, it was not particularly common to find a doll with curly hair-- especially any kind of curls that looked like natural curls, as opposed to neatly-coiffed ringlets that looked like they'd been made with curlers. There were other Strawberry Shortcakes dolls with curly hair-- quite a lot of them, in fact-- but Orange Blossom had the same short curls I had when I was four years old.
My father brought her back for me from a trip to Georgia. I still remember that I was riding on his shoulders when he gave her to me, and I called him a softie.
Anyway, in the current SSC reboot, the Orange Blossom doll, along with all the other dolls, has long, straight, silky hair. (Her skin is a lighter shade of brown, too).
I've never really had any interest in buying one of the new Strawberry Shortcake dolls, but then I saw this special edition Orange Blossom:
And now I have a doll.
In which Tea Buys Herself a Doll
May. 23rd, 2013 12:37 amI went to Toys R Us on Monday to buy a stuffed animal as a gift for a friend, and on my way to the register, I passed the Strawberry Shortcake dolls.
Now, when I was little, Strawberry Shortcake was my life. My mother made me a costume. I probably talked Berry Talk a bunch. I must have had a dozen dolls. We couldn't afford the fancy accessories, so my mother sewed little sleeping bags for all of them and gave me an old makeup case for them to live in.
I still remember that there was one doll I wanted desperately: Orange Blossom.
Orange Blossom was probably my first introduction to the idea of tokenism: the sole black character on the TV show and among the dolls.
She also had hair like mine.
In the early 80s, before the advent of Barbie and the Rockers, it was not particularly common to find a doll with curly hair-- especially any kind of curls that looked like natural curls, as opposed to neatly-coiffed ringlets that looked like they'd been made with curlers. There were other Strawberry Shortcakes dolls with curly hair-- quite a lot of them, in fact-- but Orange Blossom had the same short curls I had when I was four years old.
My father brought her back for me from a trip to Georgia. I still remember that I was riding on his shoulders when he gave her to me, and I called him a softie.
Anyway, in the current SSC reboot, the Orange Blossom doll, along with all the other dolls, has long, straight, silky hair. (Her skin is a lighter shade of brown, too).
I've never really had any interest in buying one of the new Strawberry Shortcake dolls, but then I saw this special edition Orange Blossom:
And now I have a doll.
Now, when I was little, Strawberry Shortcake was my life. My mother made me a costume. I probably talked Berry Talk a bunch. I must have had a dozen dolls. We couldn't afford the fancy accessories, so my mother sewed little sleeping bags for all of them and gave me an old makeup case for them to live in.
I still remember that there was one doll I wanted desperately: Orange Blossom.
Orange Blossom was probably my first introduction to the idea of tokenism: the sole black character on the TV show and among the dolls.
She also had hair like mine.
In the early 80s, before the advent of Barbie and the Rockers, it was not particularly common to find a doll with curly hair-- especially any kind of curls that looked like natural curls, as opposed to neatly-coiffed ringlets that looked like they'd been made with curlers. There were other Strawberry Shortcakes dolls with curly hair-- quite a lot of them, in fact-- but Orange Blossom had the same short curls I had when I was four years old.
My father brought her back for me from a trip to Georgia. I still remember that I was riding on his shoulders when he gave her to me, and I called him a softie.
Anyway, in the current SSC reboot, the Orange Blossom doll, along with all the other dolls, has long, straight, silky hair. (Her skin is a lighter shade of brown, too).
I've never really had any interest in buying one of the new Strawberry Shortcake dolls, but then I saw this special edition Orange Blossom:
And now I have a doll.
Kids these days!
Jan. 5th, 2013 02:20 amI joined Darryl at the House of Twelve Comic Jam tonight, and it was a pretty awesome time. I brought a brand new box of Crayola 64 crayons (with built-in sharpener!) and we went a little nuts.
( This is what happens when you let me and Darryl have the crayons: )( This is what happens when we let the other delinquents at the jam have the crayons: )
Hmmmmmm…
Mirrored from Antagonia.net.
Kids these days!
Jan. 5th, 2013 02:20 amI joined Darryl at the House of Twelve Comic Jam tonight, and it was a pretty awesome time. I brought a brand new box of Crayola 64 crayons (with built-in sharpener!) and we went a little nuts.
( This is what happens when you let me and Darryl have the crayons: )( This is what happens when we let the other delinquents at the jam have the crayons: )
Hmmmmmm…
Mirrored from Antagonia.net.
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. It’s part of a philosophy I espoused a long time ago that setting goals can get in the way of living life.
Sure, goals can be good for some things. They’re important for business plans and for progress on specific projects, but for me, personally, I find that I end up focusing too much on things I once wanted to the detriment of new and more exciting things that may pop up onto the horizon when I least expect them.
The last year has been a combination of things I wanted and got (I lost twenty pounds, I managed to keep my apartment impeccably clean for approximately six months, I read an amazing number of books [for me] and I wrote tens of thousands of words) and things that I never saw coming (I made amazing new friends, I ended up getting a second job doing something I love with people I love that has transformed my life for the better in uncountable ways). Of course, there were things I wanted and didn’t get, and things I never saw coming that turned out to be bad, but hey, you take what you get, and I did get a lot of adventures and excitement and joy.
Anyway, one of the things I did last year that worked out really well for me was that I offered to help my friends with their resolutions. Just because I don’t make them for myself doesn’t mean that they don’t work out well for other people, and offering to help other people with theirs means that I end up learning new things and having adventures that I didn’t plan for myself. It also means that I end up fostering and building on some amazing relationships in ways that have really defined my year.
For example, last year, Connie wanted to get into better shape. I offered to go walking with her once a week to help her have an impetus to get out and get exercise where she’d feel more of a push to go because she would have a commitment to a person in addition to an activity.
We have gone walking almost every week for a year now. We’ve only missed it for holidays, vacations, and sickness. Even in inclement weather, we go to an indoor shopping center and walk there.
And the most important part of this for me is that Connie and I have become very good friends. We share a lot of things, we know about each other’s lives, and in general have a much stronger relationship than we had a year ago. And that’s amazing, and that is what I want more of in my life.
So, I will ask you now: if there is a thing that you want to commit to this year as far as your own resolutions, and there is a way I can help you, support you, or join you in it, please ask or tell me. And I will see what I can do to make that happen.
Happy 2013 to everyone! I love you!
Mirrored from Antagonia.net.
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. It’s part of a philosophy I espoused a long time ago that setting goals can get in the way of living life.
Sure, goals can be good for some things. They’re important for business plans and for progress on specific projects, but for me, personally, I find that I end up focusing too much on things I once wanted to the detriment of new and more exciting things that may pop up onto the horizon when I least expect them.
The last year has been a combination of things I wanted and got (I lost twenty pounds, I managed to keep my apartment impeccably clean for approximately six months, I read an amazing number of books [for me] and I wrote tens of thousands of words) and things that I never saw coming (I made amazing new friends, I ended up getting a second job doing something I love with people I love that has transformed my life for the better in uncountable ways). Of course, there were things I wanted and didn’t get, and things I never saw coming that turned out to be bad, but hey, you take what you get, and I did get a lot of adventures and excitement and joy.
Anyway, one of the things I did last year that worked out really well for me was that I offered to help my friends with their resolutions. Just because I don’t make them for myself doesn’t mean that they don’t work out well for other people, and offering to help other people with theirs means that I end up learning new things and having adventures that I didn’t plan for myself. It also means that I end up fostering and building on some amazing relationships in ways that have really defined my year.
For example, last year, Connie wanted to get into better shape. I offered to go walking with her once a week to help her have an impetus to get out and get exercise where she’d feel more of a push to go because she would have a commitment to a person in addition to an activity.
We have gone walking almost every week for a year now. We’ve only missed it for holidays, vacations, and sickness. Even in inclement weather, we go to an indoor shopping center and walk there.
And the most important part of this for me is that Connie and I have become very good friends. We share a lot of things, we know about each other’s lives, and in general have a much stronger relationship than we had a year ago. And that’s amazing, and that is what I want more of in my life.
So, I will ask you now: if there is a thing that you want to commit to this year as far as your own resolutions, and there is a way I can help you, support you, or join you in it, please ask or tell me. And I will see what I can do to make that happen.
Happy 2013 to everyone! I love you!
Mirrored from Antagonia.net.
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. It’s part of a philosophy I espoused a long time ago that setting goals can get in the way of living life.
Sure, goals can be good for some things. They’re important for business plans and for progress on specific projects, but for me, personally, I find that I end up focusing too much on things I once wanted to the detriment of new and more exciting things that may pop up onto the horizon when I least expect them.
The last year has been a combination of things I wanted and got (I lost twenty pounds, I managed to keep my apartment impeccably clean for approximately six months, I read an amazing number of books [for me] and I wrote tens of thousands of words) and things that I never saw coming (I made amazing new friends, I ended up getting a second job doing something I love with people I love that has transformed my life for the better in uncountable ways). Of course, there were things I wanted and didn’t get, and things I never saw coming that turned out to be bad, but hey, you take what you get, and I did get a lot of adventures and excitement and joy.
Anyway, one of the things I did last year that worked out really well for me was that I offered to help my friends with their resolutions. Just because I don’t make them for myself doesn’t mean that they don’t work out well for other people, and offering to help other people with theirs means that I end up learning new things and having adventures that I didn’t plan for myself. It also means that I end up fostering and building on some amazing relationships in ways that have really defined my year.
For example, last year, Connie wanted to get into better shape. I offered to go walking with her once a week to help her have an impetus to get out and get exercise where she’d feel more of a push to go because she would have a commitment to a person in addition to an activity.
We have gone walking almost every week for a year now. We’ve only missed it for holidays, vacations, and sickness. Even in inclement weather, we go to an indoor shopping center and walk there.
And the most important part of this for me is that Connie and I have become very good friends. We share a lot of things, we know about each other’s lives, and in general have a much stronger relationship than we had a year ago. And that’s amazing, and that is what I want more of in my life.
So, I will ask you now: if there is a thing that you want to commit to this year as far as your own resolutions, and there is a way I can help you, support you, or join you in it, please ask or tell me. And I will see what I can do to make that happen.
Happy 2013 to everyone! I love you!
Mirrored from Antagonia.net.
Distilliversary!
Nov. 9th, 2012 07:12 pmExactly one year ago today, I went to Industry City Distillery for the first time.
A year later, it’s become my second home. Everybody there is like family to me, and they’re some of my very best friends. I love you guys! <3
( comics under the cut )Distilliversary!
Nov. 9th, 2012 07:12 pmExactly one year ago today, I went to Industry City Distillery for the first time.
A year later, it’s become my second home. Everybody there is like family to me, and they’re some of my very best friends. I love you guys! <3
Mirrored from Antagonia.net.
Cabin Fever, Part 2
Oct. 31st, 2012 10:19 pmHere’s Day 2 of my Hurricane Sandy comic diary. That’s Monday, so the storm really starts hitting in the afternoon here. Note: at this point, my last actual interaction with a person I know (as opposed to people on the subway or on the street or in the grocery store and such) was at 6pm the previous day.
If you missed the first part of Cabin Fever, it’s here. Everything here happened. It’s slightly editorialized (I left in the interesting things, dialogue is paraphrased as best as I can remember) but nothing is fictional. The rules: no penciling, no corrections.
( cut for large images )Mirrored from Antagonia.net.
Cabin Fever, Part 2
Oct. 31st, 2012 10:19 pmHere’s Day 2 of my Hurricane Sandy comic diary. That’s Monday, so the storm really starts hitting in the afternoon here. Note: at this point, my last actual interaction with a person I know (as opposed to people on the subway or on the street or in the grocery store and such) was at 6pm the previous day.
If you missed the first part of Cabin Fever, it’s here. Everything here happened. It’s slightly editorialized (I left in the interesting things, dialogue is paraphrased as best as I can remember) but nothing is fictional. The rules: no penciling, no corrections.
Mirrored from Antagonia.net.
Cabin Fever, Part One
Oct. 31st, 2012 12:49 amMy good friends know this, but I don’t do well alone. Like, really don’t do well alone. I start getting antsy after a couple hours without human contact. Ironically, I have lived alone since 2006. This somehow makes sense, really.
Monday night, in the worst howly-stormy bits of Hurricane-or-Tropical-Storm-or-Angry-Avenging-Weather-God Sandy, I decided it would be a good idea to document my hurricane experience. I didn’t lose power, but at the time, I didn’t know that my power and internet would stay on, nor did I know about the long-term effects that the storm would have on city transportation. I just thought it would be interesting and give me something to do. I started with the first rumblings of warnings that this was A Thing, last week, and went from there.
I gave myself rules: no penciling, and no correcting errors apart from crossing them out. The story is obviously edited, but I tried to be merciless and not edit out embarrassing/troubling bits.
Here’s Part One, from Friday through Sunday, when the MTA shutdown began.
( cut for many large images )Mirrored from Antagonia.net.
Cabin Fever, Part One
Oct. 31st, 2012 12:49 amMy good friends know this, but I don’t do well alone. Like, really don’t do well alone. I start getting antsy after a couple hours without human contact. Ironically, I have lived alone since 2006. This somehow makes sense, really.
Monday night, in the worst howly-stormy bits of Hurricane-or-Tropical-Storm-or-Angry-Avenging-Weather-God Sandy, I decided it would be a good idea to document my hurricane experience. I didn’t lose power, but at the time, I didn’t know that my power and internet would stay on, nor did I know about the long-term effects that the storm would have on city transportation. I just thought it would be interesting and give me something to do. I started with the first rumblings of warnings that this was A Thing, last week, and went from there.
I gave myself rules: no penciling, and no correcting errors apart from crossing them out. The story is obviously edited, but I tried to be merciless and not edit out embarrassing/troubling bits.
Here’s Part One, from Friday through Sunday, when the MTA shutdown began.
Mirrored from Antagonia.net.
Peter is our business manager over at Industry City Distillery. This one has been sitting half-finished in my notebook for a while now:
Mirrored from Antagonia.net.
Peter is our business manager over at Industry City Distillery. This one has been sitting half-finished in my notebook for a while now:
Mirrored from Antagonia.net.
