Recuperation

Today was kind of a recuperation day after a long weekend. Pretty discouraging to wake up to 34 degrees after basking in the 90’s of Vegas. Got some errands done while it was still windy and gray.

Ants in the kitchen driving me crazy. Laid out half-dozen traps. Kept seeing ants go in without seeming to come out, but the overall quantities didn’t seem to diminish. We had the same problem when we moved in last fall, and what worked best then was some vile-smelling spray from the dollar store of all places. Prolly surplus DDT from 50 years ago. Guess I’m riding to the dollar store tomorrow, despite hating the place.

Gray cat stinks. Don’t know why. Maybe I can talk Diedre into giving her a bath. Doesn’t that sound like fun?

Managed to get a ride in towards sunset, exploring the railroad tracks, the Sauk River, and industrial park west of town. Dined at Applebee’s for my usual Monday night fare, $5 burger w/fries & $5 pitcher Mich Golden Light. Million calories, my worst indulgence next to semi-daily frappuccinos. Finished with 15 miles, so managed to burn a few back off. Last stretch was after dark, but I had my lights, elected bike-unfriendly division street, racing a semi-truck. Poor bastard hit every stop-light and I won.

Twins game was on at the bar. Home team was winning, but the game was dragging, didn’t wait out the completion. Good to see Hicks playing well after .049 batting average only a week ago. Bottom of the 7th he robbed Chicago of 2 runs by snaring a would-be home run at the top of the fence, preserving a 2-run lead. Then top of the next inning, jacked a solo home-run. 3 run total impact, all of which doesn’t show up in the next-day’s box score, but his teammates and the fans sure appreciated it.

Yesterday, my flight got in about 5:30 am. I had slept on the plane, but I was still tired as hell. Broke up the hour-and-half drive home with breakfast and Sunday paper at McDonalds. Long nap when I got back.

Who the hell leaves Vegas on a Saturday night anyhow? Dads who made promises to daughters, that’s who. Drove Diedre and her friend Ashley to a concert downtown MPLS for grunge band Falling in Reverse, who ironically hail from Vegas. Hell of a thing, coming from a town where you’re competing against headliners commanding $50 and up per seat. Must be a local scene. Like most tourists, I’ve never ventured off the strip, except for that time I got hemmed in by razor fence and freeways trying to walk to the airport, whereupon I had to backtrack to a fortunately placed bus-stop.

Lead singer Ronnie’s claim to fame is serving time for manslaughter, writing his most popular songs in jail. Fne role-model for my daughter. Of course, it was Angel’s evil spawn, Mack, who turned Diedre onto F.I.R. in the first place. Some of their fine tunes purportedly lurk on my hand-me-down iPod, but I couldn’t identify any for the life of me.

I killed time riding my bike around the Kenwood neighborhood, admiring mansions and doing a little hill work, and downtown, scoping out the Northstar and Hiawatha Line train stations. I’ve been kicking around the idea of having a MPLS crash pad where I could keep a bike and a car, and go back and forth from St Cloud via the train, saving on gas. A simple efficiency or a roommate scenario like flight attendants have would do. It would sure help out with club rides and maintaining my twin cities friendships.

I have a couch-surf place south of town, which is handy for ongoing duties at the farm, but I sometimes worry about wearing out my welcome there. I am Bobby-toxic after all, and things happen. Which I know all to well after a dust-up with a former couch provider who actually struck me repeatedly about the head, compelling me to cease all contact with her.

After the concert, I treated the girls to Pizza Luce, another calorie indulgence I could’ve done without. I wish they would’ve let me take their pic, such a cute pair, blue hair, purple hair, piercings – quintessential teenagers. Oh, the photo sharing they engaged in, of shirtless boy rockers whose low-slung jeans defied gravity hanging half off ass.

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