why did the c*** cross the road?

While out riding today, this fella in his beat up SUV rolled his window down and called me a c***. He prefaced that charming expletive with "stupid." The passenger in his car must have been most impressed with his/her buddy (couldn't tell the sex of the passenger). I mean, really, how often do you witness someone spitting, "stupid c***," at a female cyclist merely trying to cross the street in front of bumper-to-bumper traffic, when the cars aren't rolling and when the cyclist held the driver up for all of three seconds (yes, I counted in my head, "one engine, two engine, three engine" before I actually crossed over to the side street I was trying to get to). I looked over my shoulder as I pedaled away (smiling) to see that the beat up SUV had gotten maybe 20 feet farther down the road from where it had been stopped and where I had had the audacity to butt my bicycle in front of it to cross the road. Me, being me, suddenly thought of that joke, "why does the c*** cross the road?" and started giggling ("to get to to the other side, douchebag!").

Really, now. What drain pipe do these drivers have shoved up their indignant asses? I want to buy stock in it, cause, trust me, there are oodles of them out there - drain pipes and asses. I'm proud to report, however, that I no longer respond in anger and allow my blood pressure to shoot up when drivers and pedestrians are nasty to me (although, I damn near chased down and beat the hell out of a teenager the other day who purposely stepped in front of me on a sidewalk, almost causing me to crash, and then walked away quickly, laughing). Nope. I just ignore them (gleefully) and pedal on my way. I view them as the obstacles I must cross to get to where I'm going. And today where I was going was to fetch my little dragon her supply of crickets and worms. I've skimmed the route down to what I believe to be the most residential, quiet streets possible while passing through Studio City, Toluca Lake and Burbank, but I have no choice but to cross four very busy and highly trafficked major streets in the valley.

I try to look at these streets as mini adventures and I'm patient when trying to get across the road. I never pull out in front of oncoming traffic and always thank the very kind motorists (yes, they are out there, too!) who stop and allow me safe passage when they see me sitting pathetically, looking both ways with worry. They see what I'm up against given that the stoplights are not timed well, and motorists are distracted and/or angry....angry at me for just being out there. Of course, they are angry at me for being on the sidewalk, too. Angry at me for being in a parking lot. Really, they are just angry at me for being on a bike. Being on a bike, makes you non-human and, apparently, a c***. Yeah, well, I'm going to embrace my inner c*** and continue to conduct as many errands as I can by bike, including my favorite cricket run. So there, SUV driver, you very-not-nice-person, you! I hope you realized what a douchebag you are when you drove all of 20 feet from where I dared to cross the road in front of your dirty bumper (dirtier even than my car, and that's just sad) and then had to stop behind the car in front of you!

Now, to important things - I've found my new pet...well, once I'm employed again as it ain't cheap. It's a Leptopelis Ullagrensis, otherwise known as a tree frog. They are very rare (which makes me wonder how Scales 'N' Tails got them, but I didn't dare ask) and very adorable. It just so happens that a woman who was standing at the counter when I arrived at the shop and laid eyes on one of these little critters, owns six of them (so weird, but in the reptile-lover world, these folks just hang out at reptile shops and brag about their pets and what (live) food they feed them; I may be 'crazy dragon lady' but I'm not that far gone!...yet). She told me that they (the frogs) are very sweet but not so very interactive. They don't bite but they are very delicate, absorbing everything that touches their skin, including human sweat. So, they are more the kind of pet you just look at and not handle. Not much fun in that, but I still want one (or two).

Here is my pic of the one in the shop (pathetic) and some pics from this website:



How adorable is that? And that is the male of the species. The female is four times larger and has smaller eyes. No offense to the little girl frogs, but beauty in this species belongs to the males. Apparently, all you have to do is feed them the same thing I feed Stephie (crickets) and make sure they have company (i.e. you have to buy them in pairs). They are not cheap - $70 a pair, $50 each! Yes, for the price of a pair of designer shoes on 70% discount at DSW, you too could own a tree frog. Boo would likely not welcome these little frogs in her terrarium, so I most certainly wouldn't house them together. Knowing Boo, she would wait until I turned my back and then eat them.

Other than my frog encounter and being called a c*** today, I have nothing exciting to report. Yes, I job searched and applied to two positions. I also touched base with a recruiter. Mostly, I spiraled into a blue mood this morning (not sure why), so biking to get crickets was the best thing for me. It lightened my mood for sure...as did a call from my wonderful father. He was on his way with JT and my aunt, Julia, to visit Grandma. She got her broken hip fully replaced and is determined to rehab and walk again. She's in a nursing home (temporarily) right now, but I suspect she'll be out sooner than anyone realizes. By golly, she's a strong old broad, my Grammy. I can only hope to be like her when I'm 90...well, I guess I should say, I can only hope I live to 90.