Smile!

Ok, I'll admit, I lost it a bit today. I didn't mean to, but there is only so far I can be pushed before I push back.

Ok I wasn't so much pushed as one of my buttons was. The button clearly reads "Don't tell me to Smile".

I don't have a smiley face.

This doesn't mean I am unhappy, or depressed or particularly stressed!

Unfortunately, my face, when displaying its "neutral expression", just tends to look a bit glum (I blame the lines that run from the sides of my nose down towards the sides of my mouth - they make me look this way). Short of getting a face lift or finding some set of special facial callisthenics to do, I will always look this way.

This is my face!

I don't walk around grinning all the time - I know very few people that do. If I did it would quite possibly; a. exhaust me and b. scare small children and c. lead to men in white coats stopping me on the street and popping me into the back of an ambulance "for the safety of all concerned".

So it's understandable that when, for the second time today, someone told me to smile, that I lost it a bit. Sorry - I hope I didn't offend...

Maybe they expect me to smile every time I see them and for the most part I do greet all who I know with a cheery "Hello" - do I smile? I assume so.

So maybe what they objected to today was that I was lost in thought and didn't acknowledge them at all - sorry - that might make me a bit thoughtless, maybe, but not someone wallowing in misery.

Am I too sensitive to being told to smile? Is it really the inner child in me pouting and saying “No you can’t make me!”? I don’t know, maybe. Maybe I subconsciously take it as an insult to my looks; I got silently annoyed by a co-worker telling me I looked angry when I was simply trying to concentrate on the job at hand. Like I said before – this is my face!

Unfortunately, telling me to smile does tend to have the opposite effect than what was intended (as would telling me to “cheer up”, by the way).

Oh well, hopefully next time I’ll just grin and bear it!

Bike Gang Community

I'm a biker; I'm tough, I'm strong; I'm aggressive; I'm dressed all in black; I'm helmet & sunglasses clad free-spirit; I love the open road, the wind in my face, and I look good in leather chaps - wait...

I'm not that kind of biker; I ride a Cervelo, not a Harley. I'm a cyclist.

But this weekend I was acknowledged on the open road by a biker on a Harley – bikers have a cool way of saluting oncoming bikers (left hand off the handlebar, arm down, palm facing forward – it always makes me think that they’re going to slap hand in some high-speed low-five) – which got me thinking of the similarities between motor-bikers and bicycle-bikers.

We both travel in groups on the highway. We tend to congregate in parking lots and swap stories about our time on the open road. The wise among us always wear helmets. And most interestingly, we generally acknowledge fellow riders whether or not we know them.

I think there’s a sense of fellowship that is generated by seeing someone else travelling the same road you are – it’s a way of saying – “Hey buddy, I don’t know you, but I know how hard you’re working – keep up the fight!”

I am sure I am not the only cyclist to have consumed winged-protein or the only one to try to will a headwind to dissipate or to worry that the hill is indeed too steep to climb. Even in races fellow cyclists have encouraged me to keep going (albeit, I am not a threat, so you can encourage me all you like with little ill-effect). But still I am buoyed up by the camaraderie that my fellow cyclists show.

It goes a long way to counteract the downsides of cycling. The us versus them mentality of most vehicle drivers (why on earth do they think that honking as they come up behind is actually helpful – it’s more likely to startle me and I end up weaving out into the road in front of them – maybe that’s their plan – Evil Vehicle Drivers).

What would possess someone to slow down to 30 kph on a highway to ask a cyclist for directions?? This happened to me, this past weekend, so that’s why I ask. He almost caused an accident – the guy in the truck behind him was less than impressed (as was I as I cursed at the guy to piss off – sorry, I tend to get a bit aggressive when I ride).

I have been dive bombed by Red-winged Blackbirds and I have swerved to avoid gophers running across the road and I have kept a wary eye on a coyote at the side of the road, just in case. I have also ducked from shadows of swooping swallows and other birds.

I’m sure all cyclists have such tales to tell - possibly even wilder tales of wildlife woes.

It is funny how almost empowered I feel from being acknowledged or in acknowledging others – there is a sense of community there, yes, I’m slogging it out on the highway on my own, but I’m not alone out there. There are others that understand my pain.

So when you see me out there and you’re a fellow rider, give me a nod or a wave and I’ll do the same – welcome to my Biker Community. And if you’re a driver, don’t honk, don’t slow down, just give me some room and a little wave in your rear-view mirror and I’ll welcome you into my Community too!

Have I Dented Your Soul?

Last night I did something that I have been simultaneously wanting to and not wanting to do for several months. I told someone who I care a great deal about, just how much I care.

It wasn't done the way I planned it, actually, I had been working very hard at not telling at all. Not that it was any great secret; when it comes to me and feelings; well, let's jut say my feelings are generally bloody obvious even to the most oblivious observer.

I found it harder to say than I expected, it wasn't meant to be hard. It had been easy enough to say all the times I had said it in my head; easy enough to put into a haiku;
Silent Affection:

My heart cries out “I love you”;

My face merely smiles.

But to say it out loud, to dispel any doubt, to lay it all on the line and be completely honest; it was difficult. So difficult that, instead of three little words it came out as five: "I love you, I'm sorry".

But I am not sorry that I love him; I am happy that I love him, he deserves to be loved (and as he's reading this, he'd better not be rolling his eyes or scoffing). I only added the "I'm sorry" so that he might know that I said it, not to add pressure to him, but to relive the pressure I was feeling having it left unsaid. Selfish really, so for that I am sorry.

Before yesterday I held off saying it, well, more accurately, I stopped myself from saying it because I knew that I wouldn't hear the same three words in return. I don't mind not hearing them, but I fear he might mind not being able to say them. So for that reason, more than any other, I held off for as long as I could.

I choose to love him for the kindness he has shown me over the past few years. Without hesitation, he was there the day I had to euthanize my dog, he even went so far as to take the day off work and spend it with me in order to try and soften my loss. For that I will always be grateful, his kindness that day solidified my opinion of him - he is awesome (stop your eye-rolling, you). He makes me laugh, even on my most down days he can lighten my mood - I feel happier just knowing he's my friend. I know he cares about me and for that, I am grateful.

He enhances my life and for that, I love him.

He is one of a group of close friends that I care a great deal for, and I hope that I can always have people in my life who care for me and who I care for. These close friends have made an impact on me, shown me kindness that I can only hope one day I can repay.

They have dented my soul.