Weather

Those merciless meteorologists are still attempting to convince me that it might rain today, that there might even be thunderstorms. But I've had enough of their backhanded trickery. I've been betrayed for the last time.

Fridays and Bikes

Sometime I have to relearn how to actually get out of bed once I've turned off Clocky. Today I didn't get up until 6:56 and we usually try to eat breakfast at 7. But today is Friday and Friday is my self-declared big-breakfast day so I took a quick shower and forwent shaving (I really need to) so I could get down to Rieber in time. To my dismay Rieber hates me now and never has bacon anymore - the essence of big-breakfast Friday. So I just ate some cereal instead.

It was the start of one of those perfectly mediocre days until we went outside. Apparently while I slept yesterday UCLA levitated to the end of the world. Walking down the hill around what was once Drake Stadium gave us a captivating vista of absolutely nothing. It was a scene out of The Neverending Story except not hilarious. Unfortunately I didn't have my camera with me and the fog had cleared by the time calc was over. I think I need to start carrying it with me at all times. Other recently-missed Polaroid moments include:

• A chalk drawing of the outline of a small person garnished the side of path by Rieber yesterday afternoon. It was labeled Midget died here.
• The floor display of the right elevator in Hedrick Summit briefly read "Q" as we were returning from lunch.
• The fattest squirrel of all time catapulted itself across our path this morning.
• An old guy and a youngish woman both walking tiny dogs. The dogs started staring each other down and everything was motionless for about ten seconds. Finally their owners awkwardly said hello to each other.
• Some guy who looked exactly like me.
  

Over the course of the past two months here I have unfortunately developed an acute fear of bikes. When I'm walking up hill few things are scarier to me than a bicyclist suddenly appearing out of nowhere and heading right towards my feet. He doesn't have much room to maneuver because I am only one of what is probably a hundred people walking up or down the same hill. Somehow I realize in the few seconds I have left before the collision that he is better at dodging me than I am at dodging him. But when the vicious hum of bike wheels reaches my ears and those malicious little devil-eyes stare at me in the straight in the face, fight-or-flight syndrome kicks into full gear and the last thing I want to do is stand still. Fortunately in the end I manage to restrain myself yet again.

This happens several times daily and now I can say sans exaggeration that I hate bikes with every fiber of my being. Those remorseless baby-killing terrorist machines.