Cool cycling products

But at a mere 160 USD, these are probably more affordable:

Early January

But this time it's not. I got the '07 thing down by 1st period. Today was considerably more enjoyable given the recent week-long break. And most of all...there is no snow.

I was planning on doing some riding today in this unseasonably balmy, 50 degree weather but I figured my time could be better spent on the Commons. I don't even know wwhy I'm down here; I was going to meet a friend but I figure he's not coming; it would've been rather inconvenient anyway, so I don't blame him.

It's all good. I like spending time down here whether I have a point or not. It's calming, it's interesting, and best of all, I never feel obligated to do my homework. Which, today, I have a considerable amount of. I'll do it down here anyway, since I'm *psh* uh, such a good student.

Have a lovely New Year. ♥

[Am I the only one confused by the lack of snow?]

January 1, 2007. Two-thousand-seven. I'm not going to get used to this. Didn't it just seem like yesterday when it was the year 2000, and the world was preparing for Y2K to come along and eradicate all technology on the planet? But in fact, it was almost a decade ago when we filled up our bathtubs to supply and closed all the windows and doors and did everything we could to keep radioactive fallout from entering our Tokyo apartment.

Before I begin, I need to apologize in earnest for anything dumb I might have said here. I may have been a bit drunk writing this post. Champagne doesn't mix well with exercise.

And here you go. First post of 2007.

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This year, dinner at my place was quiet. But the conversation over dessert was not only animated, but rough. Here we have guitar players and here we have coffee-shop philosophers, and here we have calligraphy artists and potters, all doing their thing at the same time. I personally engaged myself with the philosophers, bringing up an age-old theory that the Greeks tackled and could never solve:

Everything we do is in our own selfish interest. Pure altruism is nonexistent.

I felt awkward talking philosophy with other people four times my age. I felt a little dwindled, even (dare I say) intimidated, but I realized I'm no different, I simply have less experience. So it came as an ego boost when the conversation turned into a debate. I noticed a large divide between mothers and fathers. Mothers believe in pure philanthropy, while fathers seem to agree with me.

I don't know how it got started, but it was an interesting subject we dwelled on for at least an hour. Don't ask.

____________

So after filling up on cappuccinos and coffee beans, Kai and I were out biking and we pulled into Sunset Park in time for the fireworks and the changing of the lights this year. We rolled in as we heard the voices cheering in the lights. We chilled with Shelby for a minute, and soon the park filed out and we were the last two sitting on the stone railing.

It was time for us really just to reflect on the year past. It's been a pretty rough 10th grade, I have to admit, but now that I look back on it and see how much good has come out of this school year, I think...maybe it's just relative. Maybe it's just because 9th grade was simply the best fucking year I've ever had and that every other year to follow will never be the same. But in any case, I can only hope that next year goes smoothly.

Resolutions? Oh, yes I didn't have any until I rolled out of the park. I resolved to continue the tradition of going out to Sunset Park next year to chill in the cold and welcome the lights. I resolved to keep complications out of my life; make it simpler. I resolved to stop caring so much about society and to live the way I want.

____________

Kai and I made our way up to Simon's house, where he was watching the Real World: Denver with Zach and trying to get wasted. I don't normally like beer, but I applaud his taste in a Greek brew whose name I can't pronounce.

When they came out to greet us, Zach got us all locked out of the house. He wasn't even drunk. By the time Simon and I worked out an arrangement about whose shoes to wear, he went to get the backup key, but couldn't find the door it would open. I felt a little bad for Zach, who was the target of every joke for the next hour, but at the same time...that was a pretty dumbass thing to be doing.

We entered his house and chilled for a bit. By that time, the focus of the joke had shifted over to Kai. Poor guy didn't know how to react, but he got through without breaking down, so I respect that.

Simon (half-drunk): "So...Kai...what's your resolution? How's [Sonia and Beal], eh? You still gonna tap that? Huh? Gonna get 'em wasted?"

Personally, I was horrified by the thought. But maybe everyone else wasn't. I had to save Kai by assuring Simon that Kai's through that phase. Later on, he revealed to me that he wasn't over it.

But I can't say I blame him for holding on to his uhm, "old flames." We all have friends who we, even when we claim that they're nothing but good friends, can't help but, euh, keep the door open for exploration. (I'll be blunt. Every teenager on the planet has close friends who they'd be willing to fuck in an instant.) I'd have to admit to one myself. Come on. We all do.

And whether we like it or not, it's not going to change anytime soon. As long as they're your friend, you're always going to have to hold on to your hormones.

____________

On our way out, we got stopped.

I didn't feel angry. I wasn't pissed off. No, I felt guilty. Guilty that I was having a nominally good day and frankly, he wasn't. I felt bad for the cops who had nothing better to do than stalk the streets of suburban Cayuga Heights looking for people to pull over and take blood alcohol tests or whine about being out so late. I felt bad for those who did nothing but ride around in their cop cars when New Years came around. Who did they toast to? Who did they celebrate with? Who were they gonna get wasted with?

So if you're having a shitty day, just think of those poor souls. They're probably having a blast...

So have a lovely New Year, everyone. ♥

- Mirko

Elysium: Scrap or Not?

It's been the most laid back Christmas I've ever had. Needless to say I'm not religious, so it's never been too stressful.

Just got off about twenty minutes on my trainer, trying to shake the stagnant feeling you get when you sit on your ass for most of the day. It felt good. Heartrate peaked at around 180; not bad, but not great. And yeah, twenty minutes is a short session, but I made it intense. Besides, I haven't finished packing.

(Tomorrow morning I'm out for Montreal for the rest of the week. I'll have sporadic internet access, but I'll probably be busy doing other things more worth my time.)

_______


I hate to leave my other story unfinished, but I feel compelled to begin fresh; I can't stand the way I wrote this one. I don't know if that means rewriting my story from scratch or maybe just editing whole sections that sound...eh, chunky. Outdated. Messy. Vicky, you've read it...what do you think? Is it worth my time rewriting?

Then again, in the Information Age, documents are never permanently scrapped. It stays on my hard disk until I decide I truly don't want it anymore. Then it goes to the recycling bin. And if I really don't want it, it gets erased permanently.

But oh, it still pains me to drop it. It's been over a year now since I first turned these ideas into bytes. It's taken my time, my energy, and most of all it's taken so many of my dreams and imagination. It seems like if I scrap it now, I'm turning my back on an era in my life. I'm not just letting go of a story, but I'm letting go of a frame of mind, a dream state I've been in for the last fifteen months. I'll never be able to come back to it again with the same conviction I had before.

At the same time, I feel like I've been only postponing the inevitable. The past month or so, I've opened up my story every day for an hour or so, only to edit a few lines of text, maybe add a paragraph or two, and then close it. It's as if...well, I'm pretending that it lives on in my head. But I have to face it: I'm already losing my energy to continue writing. I don't have the creative stamina to write for long periods of time like this.

I don't like the side I'm leaning towards.

_______

I feel like talking to someone. I don't really care who. I just feel like having a conversation, spilling my thoughts. But it's also 12:18 in the morning, and these are very specific thoughts I have that can um, only be spilled and understood by a few people.