02/17/2004 - 8:43 a.m. | this should be just enough to make me sleepy again

Powered by only three hours of sleep and his self-righteous sense of duty, Nate Walsh once again helps the children of Urbana safely cross the dreaded Oregon and Race intersection. I know I'd be impressed if I weren't me.

I've been watching the daily degradation of the various shitty cars that drive around my intersection time and again. One has been making this terrible rattling noise that emanates from a spot where there is nothing there to even conceivably rattle, making me especially nervous. My worries were well-founded, it seems, for the car died in the middle of said intersection earlier. Don't worry, call the Car-X man.

Speaking of degradation, I'm sort of struck by the hilarity of my bipolar nature. Not literally bipolar, of course (anymore (probably)). Just the fact that I am so completely dorked out in the morning, but that if I so choose, I can make myself a reasonable looking human being, at least to the point where I don't stand out anymore. So yeah, you go ahead and laugh, cool high school chick with your leopard coat in your mom's SUV. If I were so inclined, I could have you eating out of the palm of my hand.

It doesn't matter if I'm actually right about this or not, just as long as I feel like I'm right about it. And I am capable of turning up the charm; I just never, ever want to do it. I guess because of the other things that have to be turned on for it to work: Ego, persistence, obnoxiousness. Yeah, I can do without.

On the ride home, I saw this big chunk of ice (about baseball-sized) coming up along my path. Now, riding over this is not a very good idea. Actually, under normal circumstances, it's not a good idea. With messed up, twisty handlebars, it's a downright fucking stupid idea. But what am I if not determined? Things went about as expected. The initial hit and the resulting struggle to remain upright. Violent thrashing about as I tried to regain control of the flailing steering wheel. It's these moments that you know things are still functioning in the world. A lot of messed up stuff might go down, but if you try to ride over an ice ball on your puny ass bike, you're gonna get screwed.

The driveway I take to get in the back way to our parking lot is one huge sheet of ice, so I've been training myself to do little tricks as my brakes desperately stuggle to find any traction at all. Personally, I think it should be an extreme sport, but they need a figurehead, and I don't have the blinding charisma and stunning good looks of someone like Tony Hawk. OK, now I'm sleepy.