Cycling, and sticking it to the Man.

Yeah, so I've been cycling lots and lots and lots and lots lately. Doing the donut religiously, and the guys on the ride have finally, more or less, started to accept me into their fold. Steve, from the donut, does cough up a "hello" when he sees me. He also offers these gems:

• On one particularly windy day, while we were waiting for the pack to peel by to pick us up, he pipes: there is a headwind today, so they will won't be here at 9:20, but at 9:22 (his precision is better than a Longines watch, apparently).
• After learning that I was doing the Toronto Crit, he starts his sentence by saying: Oh, I remember that year when I came 2nd in the M1 race at Milford (oh, retch!).
  

And, the Toronto Crit. Ahhh. I totally got slaughtered. During the neutral lap, there was a crash on corner 3, so I decided that it was best to stay at the BACK of the pack. When we finally started, after Corner 1, somebody yelled out: "Hey, Chinglishchick!" I waved back: "HEY, GUYS!" Anyway, it was AT THAT MOMENT, the pack started to peel away, and I was getting dropped. I started muttering, "oh, fucfkfkfkfkffkkfkfuckfuckkckk", as I tried to chase. I turned around to see three fat guys behind me - I was hoping they'll catch up to me, so we could catch up to the pack. Nope. They were fat for a reason. Fat Guys couldn't even catch up to me. I got pulled after five laps. Brutal!

Still, it is all good. All fun. Doing the CHIN crit on July 1. I should be racing for Midweek by then.

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I'm also getting the "Sticking it to the Man" thing out of my system before I leave this place. Last night, I went to Devil Strip Rollers with Ms. B., a weekly cycling event that a bunch of bike couriers in town participate in. Man. It was SO frigging rad. We bombed up Yonge Street, and weaved through all the construction cones. I jetted through some girls crossing the street at high speed, and Brad quips: ChinglishChick, you're such a badass. A guy was trying to teach me the nuances of popping a wheelie by telling me to lean forward. Then this other guy tells me (with his fixie, lime green frame, pink rims and spoke cards): don't listen to him. Listen to me - you lean back. And then, right there, he demonstrated the perfect wheelie, holding it for a few seconds.

I told one of my friends about this ride, and he quipped: Bike courier ride sounds great, and I bet you were the only MBA-track person there.

Anyway, got an invite back to attend the sprints for next Wednesday night. Rawk it!

And, I still can't decide whether I want to be a corporate whore or not.

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Oooooooooooooooh! The guys at WofB are trying to set me up with Jet Fuel! Hilarious. They have an endearing nickname for me, too: Lucy Liu. R., the guy who works there, said: "Don't worry, Lucy Liu. I'll take care of this for you." I've been calling him Cupid ever since.