Quel Jour

Ahhhh. I hardly know where to begin. I had a great day today, but it was not without its bizarre moments. To begin with, I spent the entire day on the bike, or as close as is possible for a girl with cranky knees. I got up and ate and showered and rode out to the bike shop to meet my two cycling companions (beautiful boys, one very young and one a bit older than me). We then proceeded to ride out to Prospect Park in Brooklyn, the eldest of our posse dropping me easily on the bridge (the young one very nicely hung back to keep me company).

There, we met up with two other cyclists and rode some laps around the park, which was leafy and gorgeous, and generally hung around being lazy the rest of the time. Just so you have the full picture, it's now me and four men (two of them being the glorious redheads).

Here's where it starts to get weird. My phone would not stop ringing the whole time I was there. Everyone I know or ever speak to seemed to be trying to get hold of me today. First I had a client call. Then I heard back from the boy whom Special J has dubbed bird-boy (because of his resemblance to an ibis). I'd called him over the weekend and asked him to just call me and tell me yea or nay, because I happen to prefer to be turned down clearly rather than having them simply drift away, as many boys are wont to do.

Anyway, this was the call back, and it was a perfectly fine conversation. I wasn't surprised to hear that he just wants to be friends, and if in fact he wants to do that and isn't just making polite noises, I think I might be able to swing it. I mean, one can never have too many cycling buddies. In any case, I am relieved to have a clear answer.

But. It was funny as hell to be having that conversation while I was out cycling with several hot (hotter than bird-boy, if we are being honest) boys. And the one who overheard the conversation pointed out that I really ought to have told the guy I was out with three hot boys (we hadn't met up with the fourth yet). And he was right. I should have.

So there was that. Anyway, I had a great time and cycled my legs into jelly, and one of the boys showed me the way home, and it turned out to be super-easy and quick, and I got home and ate and ate and ate and showered again, and so on and took this (I think) very cute pic of the feline sacked out between two fans. Hey, if I had fur, I'd be there too.

But what I wanted to talk to you about is beauty, and the fact that there's a certain amount of relativity involved in it.

As I was looking through some old pics (Mermaid Parade again - yes, I am going to take the camera out more; I just didn't want to carry it today), I was struck by how a photo of someone - a person I'd normally think of as odd-looking, quirky, or maybe even homely (I love that word, and the fact that it has both positive and negative meanings) - can make me see that they have their own beauty.

This woman in the flowered dress struck me that way. It's something about the strong character in her face, and the fact that she seems so unabashedly herself. I like that in people - usually in people I know, because I have come to love them for who they are, and every time I look at their faces I see who they are written there. No, I am not talking about boys here. I am thinking of friends. My beautiful, unique friends. Love you guys, and boy are you beautiful.