Becky Broeder

I am announcing my intention to formulate an exploratory committee. For a week, I thought I’d branch out and begin a new chapter for myself. Forget the blog. I’ve outgrown it. But truth be told, I miss you. I am the most pathetic ex, ever. I’ve gotten out a lot more. Even dated: something I really don’t like. It’s like applying for a job when I don’t know what I’m applying for. I don’t really believe in looking for jobs, either, as I’m more of the ‘fall in your lap’ kind of girl. So, yet again, I find myself happiest in the comfort of my male friends, doing all the things I normally do, missing the fact that I chose to not share it with the world. Don’t get me wrong. There are new rules. My exploratory committee has been formed to investigate how I can be a better person, a better blogger, a better G-D American. Here is what they have pieced together thus far.

1. We can all learn a thing or two from watching rollerderby, which is what some friends and I did last night. I learned that it’s high time for me to start sticking my ass and elbows in to other women’s bellies and backs. That’s right. Crit riding = Rollerderby. And on a personal level, not just on a biking level, it’s high time for me to let my West Virginian teammate, Jeanette, handle business, crack some skulls, and sling me into people, if need be (we’d make kick ass rollerderbyers, mate).

2. I have decided that you can comment all you want, but consider it like an English class. I write what I write and done. No editing. You discuss. If you have something nice you want to say, say it and I will secretly smile and laugh and be glad. If not, I appreciate the dialogue, but you won’t get me to talk back. If you want, call me, if you have my number and want to leave a message cuz I most likely won’t answer my phone (but will prolly call back)…. or myspace me. You can even drunk myspace or call me. Just don’t call and scream and cuss me out like Mike Jones does though. But back to the blog: I will not make appearances at the ‘hashing out of what I might mean’ session.

3. That said, if you are sitting around procrastinating your ride, wondering if you ate too many oats and you should purge your breakfast, considering if you need sunscreen or would rather get the ‘tanline medal of accomplishment’, thinking about your watts for the day and your LT levels and T levels and your Hemotocrit Levels and iron levels and serotonin levels and masterbation levels and protein levels, and hydration levels and flexiblity levels, and caffiene through green tea and suppository levels, and legs-up levels, after spoozing over the altitude tent that you know Gunn has, and thinking about how underendowed you are and what will you possibly do after your legs are gone and sun-damaged and wrinkly even though you used the Bath and Body Works lotion you stole from your host family at Fitchburg, considering the wicked sprint that Dietrich beat you in with his hands tied during a training race where you accidentally went down over the train tracks and OH GOD, I’m fine and not embarassed and people like me, right?!?!, then saying ‘F@#$ it I don’t need anyone to like me cuz I’m a winner, well no, I’m not, then maybe I’m funny, well, no, I’m not, but I shop at Walmart and save a dime so that I can cheat my friends on the dinner bill when we go out for non-fat yogurt, and, in fact, I’m just a mean piece of shit that likes to make nice people feel bad, make fun of weirdos and handicapped people and everyone at the coffee shop whose asses I just kissed, and, I am not ever witty enough to make a hateful comment that makes any sense so I have to make up words like ‘furburger’ and pretend like I know what ‘third person’ is and I think everyone else is “LAME” because I am really just uncertain about my future and my personality and those two chest hairs or the boobs I lost in my quest for the perfect power-to-weight ratio, well, then GET OFF YOUR SAD ASS AND DO SOMETHING FOR HUMANITY, or, if you can’t do that, then go ride. Just ride. And leave me alone.

3. I am not as tough as I pretend to be, ever. No one is.

4. I was walking down 4th last night, after having full-on ditched my friends at a bar. Time to go. I had not another minute to spend there. No reason. So, walking down the street to find my friends that left earlier who might be driving a car down the street, I was asked by a Jesus person, front and center: “if you were going to die in the next few minutes, where would you go and what would you be doing?” My answer to her was, “hopefully, I would be in my friends’ car because I lost them and I would be going to.. bed”. Her answer was “Jesus loves you anyway”. To which I said, “I know”. The lesson in that encounter: Do what you gotta do and try to do it right. I don’t think anyone appreciates the here and now and efficient problem solving more than Jesus. But that’s just my opinion. His followers would prolly say I’m wrong. My exploratory committee will be proving or disproving the American-ness of that notion.
5. I am never bitter. Never sour. I have met the best people I could ever imagine and the most loyal are among you. My problem, as always, is trusting too much, believing too hard, overlooking to often. I guess if there is a major flaw, there are worse, but if you treat me wrong, or treat my friends wrong, then no more chances: one, maybe two. Then you’re out. There are just too many people in the world and not enough time for me to waste my days with idiots. I’d rather waste my days with thoughtful people. Thanks again, every one.

6. I’ve been studying Bostonese. And with that, I should return to the Patriot’s game.
Now that we’re all set, wanna make out?

BB

This entry was posted on Sunday, January 21st, 2007 at 4:50 pm and is filed under Random. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.