I know it's only the 6th of September (but do I have news for you, all you prescriptivists out there! I did it in August too!), but I am sitting at my small, round, kitchen table, with the golden tablecloth, sipping hot chocolate. Yes, hot chocolate. And, oh, what a pleasure! If only I had whipped cream!
The reason I deem this hot chocolate indulgence more than acceptable - night unto required - is that I am wet from head to toe. It's a mixture of nice clean rain water, dirty street water, and my own healthy sweat. I just rode my bike home from campus in the rain - another first under my belt! It was quite an experience, this rain ride, and I considered waxing poetic and writing about it only in my journal, but no one will read that for decades (inshallah), and this way I get the instant gratification of knowing that maybe someone will actually read about my capers in the near future. And I do type so much faster.
So, it really was kind of an interesting experience - one which stimulated all 5 senses. And not completely a negative experience, although in the future I will be glad for sunshine when I embark. The rain was coming down like it actually meant it, none of the misting stuff I have complained about before, and it did make for hazardous visual conditions (it was quite tough to keep my eyes completely open, and even when they were, it was difficult to see!). I believe I was being pelted from two angles: the obvious one, from above; and the not so obvious one, from the stream spraying from my front tire. This stream was an interesting sight all the way home. It was even a little beautiful, in an ironic, looking-at-the-positive-side kinda way. Its little droplets were lit up by my night light (positioned for safety at the front of my bike), which gave them a dancing water look, kind of like the Bellagio in Las Vegas. I got all kinds of crazy light/water shows all the way home, and I pondered which ones of those droplets were making their way into the very eyes that were watching them.
That was one of the five senses. Another was the sense of touch. That one just felt wet - the wet you feel when you jump fully clothed, with jeans, into a large body of water, like a swimming pool or lake. I've done them both, so I'm eligible to make the comparison. Likewise, my feet, which were simply wearing Chacos (sandals) got the full brunt of the wetness. I was forced to pedal through several puddles and even streams of water, and eventually my feet became so cold that the water splashed on them felt pleasantly warm.
To complete the five senses for the night, I listened carefully for cars approaching from behind, as they were my first indication whether I would be splashed again; I smelled their exhaust and wondered if some of them had some kind of problem with their engine; and I tasted. I prefer to think that the water that occasionally made its way into my mouth, and the accompanying soft taste of salt and some sweet, was simply my own sweat and maybe chapstick. Not some strange chemical off the street, or worse.
All in all, it was quite an experience. Sure to be repeated, although I do hope not frequently. So, now I will completely give myself to my hot chocolate, and an hour or two of homework.
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