Friday, June 26, 2009

The end of the week

My bike skort arrived today in the mail. I ordered it from REI. Cute! Only, since I ordered it online, I was sort of guessing regarding the size.

Feeling realistic that day, I ordered a large.

This may have been a mistake.

I tried it on tonight before Patrick came home from work. I got home from our first rehearsal of "The Emperor and the Bird Of Paradise" with David, at his house (more on this in a sec), and there was the Priority Mail package on the porch. I went into our messy bedroom (I really need to do laundry; there's a pile of towels that's been mocking me from the middle of the floor for about 5 days now), took off my comfy jeans, and pulled up my bike skort.

For those of you wondering what the hell a bike skort is, I'll tell you: it's a pair of padded bike shorts under a wrap skirt. The bike shorts are typical bike shorts; the skirt part is adorable. It's made of a light, ripstop like fabric. I have no idea if it's aerodynamic, and I don't care. It secures with a little luggage bag-type plastic belt thing (great explanation!). The whole thing is really cute; the skirt covers my fat ass and it looks like it might be very comfortable to bike in.

The only problem is, I am currently in between being a large and a medium. And so the bike shorts, which are supposed to be snug, are a little baggy. And they're the perfect awkward length that they don't cover as much of my thighs as I would like. The skirt covers them, but it's not good.

And so, the question is, if I keep it, how long will it be before I'm a true size medium and this (rather expensive) skort is really too big? Or if I return it, will the medium be ridiculously too small and uncomfortable? Isn't being a medium the whole point of getting my fat ass on the bike to begin with? But if I can't wear it right away... what's the point?

The truth is, I've been putting way too much thought into my size and my shape and aging and feeling fat and unattractive and WOW, I just want to ride my bike and have fun. I don't really want to be so invested in how I look. I wish I could just concentrate on how I feel. I had hoped that my bike would be ready for pickup today, but unfortunately it wasn't. I guess the guy didn't lie when he said "Monday."

...

Last night was the flute choir concert. We played well, I think. We usually do, but I felt great about this concert. We ended the concert with a silly adaptation from "The Magic Flute." It was called, "The Magic Flute in 5 Minutes." Julie and I shared the first flute part, and it's always nice to play with Julie because we tend to play in tune together, and to have a good partnership. Truthfully, I could've pulled my weight a little more and practiced with a bit more regularity (sorry, Juls!), but we played it well in rehearsal, so I wasn't too nervous about it. Unfortunately, for the concert, I kind of screwed up the last four bars of the piece, which was disappointing (it ends in a big flurry of notes, including a high C at the end, which I did just fine, but was kicking myself because I screwed up the sixteenth notes). After the concert, though, I was talking with some of the other flutists, and they claimed not to have noticed, so I don't know, maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. They were surprised to hear me say that I still get nervous, which is what I think went wrong. Usually a little burst of nervous energy works to my advantage: it helps push tempos, it keeps things exciting, it brings out emotions that carry through to the music, but this time, I think it just short circuited my fingers.

I thought that was pretty funny, because if you're looking for a picture of "confidence," I'm not it.

Before I came home and tried on my bike skort, I met with my friend David and we rehearsed "The Emperor and the Bird Of Paradise." His wife had gone out to lunch with the baby, but they were home before we started. I felt a little guilty, because their baby was, I think, ready for a nap, but we went ahead with it anyway. This kid came to her first flute choir concert last quarter, and she was quiet and content for the whole thing, but today I think she was a bit out of sorts. Anyway, we did one run through and David's wife, in the other room, was having a bit of a time with the baby in the bedroom. For the second run through, David went and got her and brought her out to listen. He held her the whole time, and at first she was a little unsure what the hell was going on, and was a little squirmy, but David's voice, doing the narration, seemed to calm her down. She did cry, but it was on cue, at the "scary" part of the music (the wolves were howling!). Seeing them with her (I think babies under a year are at their absolute sweetest), especially David, holding her while reading his part and following mine - I think these two new-ish parents know what they're doing.

In other news, last night I told someone that I was considering going back to school, and was thinking about a writing program. Still no idea if this is yet another iteration of my usual "I think I should go back to school" deal-io or if I'm just highly susceptible to the power of suggestion (someone else says "writing program" and I say "writing program," just like commercials for KFC always make me want KFC, even though I know it's horrible. My own personal slogan for KFC is "where every piece has a spine!").

Oh, and totally unrelated but a nice change of topic: due to circumstances beyond our control, Patrick and I are taking a break from cable channels (I'd tell the story but then I'd have to kill you). For about two weeks we've been watching basic tv channels. No Food Network, no HBO, no Discovery Channel. I'll tell you this: regular TV kind of sucks. While I was eating lunch today, my choices were basically "The Peoples Court" and "One Life To Live." Given such choices, I decided to read. The upside is, I'm watching an episode of Star Trek and a pair of Twilight Zones every night. Star Trek (the original, with Kirk and Spock) is immensely entertaining, in spite (or maybe because) of the horrible sets and backgrounds. Last night's episode took place on another planet. The other planet consisted of a purple landscape, dotted with fluorescent green cactuses. For those of you who care about such things, this episode was "Metamorphosis." It was great. I last watched the old Star Trek episodes with my friend Serena and her dad. In the 7th grade.

Anyway, it's not so bad, this no cable TV stuff. I may exaggerate. Now, Patrick has gone to bed, and the "Living Doll" episode of the Twilight Zone is on, and I don't think I want to watch alone... so I'm off to join him.

Good night.

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