michelle's blog

"Open House today, Friday 6-8pm..."

Submitted by michelle on Mon, 2007-06-04 12:07.


The house looked nice. It made me smile. I pressed the bell and it took forever for someone to answer.

"Hi! I'm Michelle. I'm here to see the room for rent."

"Huh? There's no room for rent here."

"Isn't this 60 Diamond Street?"

"No. That's the next one over. This is Collingwood."

"Oh! Sorry!"

There was no 60 Diamond Street. There was 64, 62, then 58...
56, 58, 62...
All the odd numbers stayed on the opposite side.
Back to the evens. Maybe at the end of the alleyway between the buildings?
Peeling paint on a white gate. Not appetizing.
The rest of the house was in pasty pink and then an overgrown archway came into view below the stairs leading to 64 and 62.

A door lingered in the murk. I hate the ground floor.
I knew it would smell, but knocked anyways.

This was 60. I wandered in and introduced myself to the 4-6 inhabitants. They barely acknowledged me. I've met them before. Ok, not these particular individuals but close enough:
windowless stagnation.

A guitar for decoration. No, thank you!
"I'm not interested. I don't like living on the ground floor."

The curly one answered, "We don't like you either. We don't like your loud voice. Bye."

I chuckled as I left the house.

"I haven't ridden a bike in 5 years, but a 42 mile bike tour sounds fun!"

Submitted by michelle on Mon, 2007-06-04 12:01.


"You go through Central Park and over bridges...and even the freeway."

That sold it.
So, 12 hours before the 5 Boro Bike Tour began, I decided to do it.
My biggest issue was whether I really wanted to wake up at 5:30 a.m. to make the 8 a.m. start time.

Fayden's boyfriend, Ross, basically has as many bikes as Fayden has Blythe dolls. They love to customize. So, not only did Ross let me borrow a bike, he gave me choices! I went with this sweet-ass red bike:

I love this bike!

There were so many bicyclists at the beginning that we couldn't even start biking until 9 a.m. and even that was stop-and-go. When we were able to slip out from the masses, we took a short cut through some cars, taxis, 5-lane streets, the Columbus Circle, and a few horse-drawn carriages. And then there were these people carrying a large pane of glass.
Ok, not really on that last one.

At a few points on the freeways, it got so windy that it could almost push your bike over. If you were next to the center divide, you were close enough to touch the cars.

Ross, his sister, and I were split up along the 42 miles. I was the slowest. I didn't mind being by myself, but it made pit stops a bit more challenging. I had no one to watch over my bike while I went to the rest room. Who could I trust? I ended up unhinging and taking the bike seat into the port-o-potty with me.

Later in the day, I almost got into a 3 bike pile-up. It was probably my fault, since I'm just not that competent on a bike. It was probably during one of those times going downhill when it feels so good to let go of your brakes completely.
Two bicyclists were riding side by side ahead of me. I was going too fast and couldn't maneuver myself around them, so I ended up going between them. Fortunately, our handlebars didn't catch.

We finished the tour and took the ferry back at 5 p.m. It was awesome!

The Barbarian King

Submitted by michelle on Tue, 2007-05-29 12:46.

The family consisted of two parents, an older brother, two sisters, and a fifth-grader. The brother never had to do anything because he was a boy. The two sisters, however, were constantly subjected to the mother's nagging, berating, and bellowing. She would go through their things. She would listen in on their telephone conversations. And every holiday, they would have to pay tribute.

If they chose wisely, they would enjoy a week of solace.
If not, they would hear for weeks and sometimes years about "how could they be so stupid as to buy such a thing?"

I didn’t get it.

Submitted by michelle on Sat, 2007-05-19 12:13.


My friend loves her Balenciaga bags.
“I’m so lucky I live in New York- They only have two stores in the world, one in Paris and one here!”
I’m indifferent. They’re pleasant enough, but nothing remarkable.

10 days later, she shows me her handbag collection. She has at least six Balenciaga ones, and all but one could easily hold as much as a backpack. These bags are huge.
And then
I pick one up.

It’s so light-
like 1/6 the weight of a leather bag of the same proportions...
it's closer to the weight of a canvas one.
It's so awesome. I want one.

First Time

Submitted by michelle on Sat, 2007-05-19 12:08.


Wow. This is the first time I've seen a mannequin with a big ass.

Grunts and Bad Grammar

Submitted by michelle on Sat, 2007-05-19 12:07.

I don't really like dramas, but my friends had rented "Brokeback Mountain", so "Why not?".

It was good! I guess it was a good drama because cowboys don't talk too much.

They Died in the Waiting Room

Submitted by michelle on Mon, 2007-04-30 22:31.


It didn't look like the train would come for awhile.
I sat down.

"Terrible weather!" said the man next to me.
"I was in the hospital for eight years and I come home to this!" The man gestured, frustrated, at the rain and wind.
"That's Massachusetts for you!"

He took off his beanie and waved his hand over his head.
"This is all metal- that's why I'm so cold. Glad I bought this hat the other day."

"That's metal?..." I pulled out my ear buds. Did I hear eight years or eight weeks? Was I hearing correctly?
"What happened?"

"I was working on the construction of the Connecticut airport. I was walking on a beam and fell off. I landed on a piece of rebar and it went straight through my head." He pointed at his right temple and indicated that it went through the left. "They cut the metal off from both sides and left it in there. And they put in a metal plate here." He waved along the right portion of his skullcap.

"So, you were in a coma?"

I died.

But they brought me back. I was on the operating table for 3 days. And my family was in the waiting room waiting for the prognosis. See, I'm the youngest of 8 brothers. They were so worried about me and the prognosis that when the doctors came out, they had all died."

"Like heart attacks?"

"They dunno..."
He grimaced as he slowly shook his head.
"When I got out of the hospital, they told me my family had died in the waiting room."

"I'm the only one left. And I have a big house. I can't take care of a house in my condition. I'm staying at a motel. A friend helped me yesterday. Maybe, he'll help me today."

bath mats or rugs? or whatever they're called

Submitted by michelle on Mon, 2007-04-30 22:22.


Several days after our third roommate moved in, she asked me," Do you mind if I put in different rugs in the bathroom? I have a matching set in beige. It's super...(description...description...)"

I watch her talk.
I could care less if we had a rug, let alone matching ones.
"Go for it."

"Oh, great! (blah...blah...)"

I glance at the bathroom. There was already a black rug, a semicircle, when I moved in...hmm...
"Whatever you do, don't just throw out the black rug. I don't know if it belongs to our other roommate or the landlord, but yeah, don't throw it out."

It's weird. Bath mats. Something I never think about, and yet could be a source of contention between roommates.

"I will dip you in strawberry jam until you become more sweet!"

Submitted by michelle on Thu, 2007-04-26 00:21.

Ross threatens his roommate.


Submitted by michelle on Thu, 2007-04-26 00:20.

When you get to know them, the biggest liars can be the most sincere, for they are liars but not hypocrites.

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