Yesterday you said tomorrow.
Yesterday was just what I needed.
It was like a cure to my mental ailments. Cycling, fishing, eating. My father and I cycled at least 12 miles yesterday, if not more. We went all the way to Bethesda from Georgetown. At first I could not believe it. Next time, I want to reach Rockville. It’s not far and can be done(: We chilled in Bethesda for a little bit, ate at Sweet Green, and stayed away from fake leather purses being sold on the street. How dare they? And $29? Bah. I’m a vegan, but I love leather. Leather bolsos de mano, cinturones, abrigos, zapatos, botas, and chaquetas. Get me one or more of those and I shall te querre forever. Remember, fake leather is the devil – preposterous!
When we first began our trail in the meek town of George, we happened across a Syrian man having trouble with a catfish. His eyes, they were..I cannot explain. They were blue, but not that piercing ocean water blue, more of a..a turquoise. Yes! That is exactly it. His eyes were turquoise. Unbelievable. (I am talking about the Syrian man, not the catfish battling between life and death). Anyway, my father and I could tell that he was struggling as he tried to handle the living creature – he jumped a few times, it was a poor sight. We, my father and I, offered to help him. We held the catfish tightly while the Syrian man tried to get the hooks out of the fish’s mouth. Turns out, he didn’t want to take it home for food. He was only taking pictures with it. Pfft(: The hooks (which were three in one: weird) were rather stuck, and the little fishy just beat beat beat his heart away..almost. The man finally got them out, and I threw the catfish, let’s name him Lucky. I threw Lucky back into the river/canal thing. He didn’t float to the top; that’s good. He burrowed deep in the bottom.
It was nice..holding a live fish. I haven’t done that in quite some time. My father and I used to fish on our boat when I was little, the only difference is we would take it home and consume. However, not catfish; those are bottom feeders, and we are bourgeois. Catfish we gave to our neighbors. Note to readers: I wasn’t a vegan all of my life. I’m not frightened of holding a live fish. Dead ones, I’d rather not. Vegan or not vegan.
Oh! I conquered a feat yesterday as well. There is this street that is on a hill. Last year, I rode up that street, and it was death. Bloody. My dad beat me, and I had the settings on my bike set to lowest resistance; it was horrible. But yesterday, I went, I rode, I conquered. The bicycle setting was 3:5, I’m not sure if you know what that means, but for perspective, the highest setting on our bikes, which are rather nice bikes, is 3:7. It was no struggle. Yes, I felt the resistance, but it didn’t hurt. It wasn’t killer. It was simply a hill that I had to climb. That I could climb. I felt bloody brilliant. Totally wicked!
We also came across a canoeing and kayaking place. We plan to go there next weekend, if I’m not working. Then we found a bonfire site. What was that? Summer partay did you say? Hell yeah. And this is all by a lake and relatively close to each other. S’mores, grilled fruits and vegetables, portabello burgers, ripe peaches.”It’s gonna be a long hot summer, we should be together with our feet up on the dashboard now.’ Barefoot blue jean night, and a little bit of chicken fried (don’t eat chicken, but love Zac Brown Band‘s Chicken Fried song). That other song was Keith Urban. And the other, Jake Owen.
I really love life. Oh, oh! My sister, Sheen (Rasheena) said something today. She was looking at my butt (yes, I had on clothing), and she asked if I was squeezing it. “No.” Then she said it looked smaller. Yes! Most people might be like, Um, Erica sweety. Voluptuous buttocks = good. I have my own preferences for my body. I have a small bust – my sister says that we have micro-mastia. I love my small boobs. I don’t want big ones. 1) I can make ’em look bigger if I want with nice bras. 2) I don’t have that sports bra problem that the big-boobed complain about. 3) If a guy fancies me, I know it’s not just because I have some huge jugs on my chest. It’s because I’m gorgeous obviously(; 4) I just prefer small boobs. Now about my butt. Friends/family were commenting on my backside, specifically about its enlargement. I would tell them, It’s only because I’m gaining weight/not eating healthy. They were skeptics. Unbelievers. But I was right! :p See, I know my body. My butt might be naturally larger than some flatties, but I knew the size that it was, was not it’s proper size. And I proved correct, because now as I exercise and am clean eating, it has significantly reduced in size, and of course is shaping up. Plus, people are seeing physical changes and week three has, literally, just begun. Cool beans, I say. Cool beans.
Back to yesterday: our trek was four hours in length. A wonderful four hours. Bethesda’s gonna become my new hangout spot, I tell you. On the way there, my resistance was 3:5 to 3:6. On the way back, ’twas 3:6 to 3:7. And for the occasional hill/incline, I would speed up really fast – I find that is the best way to soar atop them. It gets it over with, makes me look rather athletic, and gives my legs plenty of resistance. I also learned that I can ride my bike with no handlebars. No, I’m not a Flobot. But I really can. I know I can at least do it for about 2 minutes. I can probably do it longer, but I was being cautious. I did take a drink of water, handlebar-less. It was pretty dope. I think I’m pretty dope. I just love my life.
I called Sweet Green today and asked if they sold their compost salad bowls. They said, not exactly but I could just come in and ask for a few. I shall. This week. It looks similar to this bowl. I’m about to have three free nice bowls in a few short days. Whoop. It is the simple things like this that makes me a life lover.