And she collects cans, too. Oh, the shame.
It doesn't get more ghetto than Rebecca's bike ride to work today. The only thing missing was an asthma attack. And getting hit by a car and killed. But that'll probably happen soon enough.
#1. I had just left when I noticed that something felt funny. I looked down and saw that my back tire was low. But it wasn't so low that I couldn't ride, I just had to pedal harder, so I kept going.
#2. Even though it was sunny when I left, the first song on my iPod ("Something Beautiful") wasn't even over when it started to rain. But it wasn't raining too hard, and there wasn't anything to do about it anyway, so I kept going.
#3. It was still raining when my chain popped off. I cursed and fumed and finally managed to put it back on, then spat on it, so it wouldn't pop off again. (In retrospect, I don't thinking spitting on a bike chain helps it at all. But it didn't pop off again, which is all that matters.) Oh, and while I was putting it back on in the rain, some douchebag sitting on his front porch yelled something at me, like, "You're getting wet!" or something equally stupid and obnoxious.
I went into my sister's store to change into my uniform. Our restrooms are nicer, but I couldn't stand the thought of walking in wet and sweaty, looking like something the cat dragged in. Anyway, by some miracle, I actually got to work on time (barely).
Last night I watched A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. It was very good, better than I had expected, and not as sad as you'd expect from the story.