I biked from Yellow House to Cooleto this afternoon. Currently I am manning the front desk at a small church in Austin as a source of income. This affords me not much except gas money and 3 hours a day to hulu, blog and do other things computer related. So in efforts to conserve the little dough that i do have, I bike.
I am not a hipster. I think I possess some qualities of what you might call a hipster. Namely, I like to wear cool things. When it comes to being a slave to trends, I'd say I'm a 2%er. Not immune to it, but not bound by it.
As I was biking with my satchel through east Austin, I was struck with a thought:
I was sweating. I was moving. And if you know me, you know I HATE being hot. I mean, when I say I hate it, I mean anger envelopes me and I turn into something only comparable to the character that Colin Hanks plays in Orange County. But only the scene when he gets pissed at his mom for being a drunk who he is embarrassed by and his druggy brother and then a huge horrible situation happens and he gets so fed up that he hurls himself into a pool with hopes of drowning and leaving all the shit behind that he's had to deal with. Don't worry, its just funny in the end. But today felt different. It felt good to sweat. It felt good to be pedaling through the humid air. Maybe it was the journey's end that was pushing me, or maybe it was just a moment of therapy for my mind and body. Either way, I enjoyed it.
And I want to enjoy that more. I want to enjoy the struggle. For the end, and for the process.
We'll see how that goes...
hmhmhmhm (its the new hahaha, but the chiller, mouth closed chuckle version)