To a Fellow Canadian

On the first of August I wrote that the day before I had to quit typing to run to the bike shop and get the freewheel off of the Concord and then I unloaded the pictures from the phone.  I was in pieces when I left the house.  I hadn’t made much progress with the letter and was 20 minutes late.  I realized that I had wanted to go riding so grabbed shorts.  I also had to make a bunch of stops.

I went to the Walgreens and bought a prescription and a CT ticket.  I then rode to 9^th and Irving and got a wrap and two bottles of Prosecco.  People were with my friend at Two Sisters.  We had a drink and met them at a big party.  It was in full swing when we got there.  I learned later that it was good that we locked up because we left the gate open.

Inside we grouped up and there were a lot of people that the girls knew.  There were two apartments to explore.  I interacted with a lady we knew and the host migrated over to us.  I meet her guy’s friends and one of them I went upstairs with me where we interacted with random people.  However, things got weird when he started talking to a fellow Canadian.

When I returned downstairs then it was clear that a lot of people had had the punch.  I was interacting with a cool guy for a while.  He and his girlfriend were from the foothills so we had a lot to talk about.  In the meantime my friend disappeared into the living room a few times and eventually I went in and started dancing.

When we left we met a guy from Contra Costa that sent me a text.  After we discovered that the gate had been open but the bikes were good the ride home was great and I was asleep at 130.

In the morning of the day that I wrote this I realized that I had had plans to ride with an acquaintance but couldn’t make it.  I felt bad but after interacting with a friend I realized that she was a little upset about it.  Apparently we had met him at the Tweed Ride—I didn’t really know him.  In fact I hadn’t really been paying attention to the whole thing till then.

When we figured out how to get out of it I made her breakfast in her kitchen to make up for it.  I had to work at everything a little at a time to make it right.  I then prepared and executed it all.  My friend was ecstatic and we had good conversation.  In the meantime I saw her roommates leave and found out that my friend’s old buddy was getting off work so we made plans to meet but after I went to ready myself it turned that she had overbooked.

We went to Four Barrel anyway.  I was wearing my 90’s jacket.  However, on the way I realized I wanted my cassette so ran back to her house with her keys.  It turned out that the keys didn’t really work—she had made them for the landlord recently.  It took me about fifteen minutes to make it work.  Back at the café the pastries were great and then we went to Safeway and Whole Foods and back to the house with our loot.

This time the key didn’t work at all and we had to play with the door for longer.  My friend even went to the back.  In the end the neighbor helped us out with a tube of graphite.  Inside we put the groceries away and lazed about.  I went to Four Barrel with my cassette and wrote.  I made plans to head to the Uptown.

This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.