i can't believe it's not... ..moldy n' shit.

i don't know how this happened.. ok, so last night i ran out of butter. big bummer. it's not something i would normally [..run out of]-- perhaps i attribute it to growing older and, as a result, less anal? [hopefully?]. it was too late to run to the market to replenish. i scavenged my freezer in hopes i was two steps ahead of my at-that-moment self but to no avail, i was not. i then checked my fridge again-- i vaguely remember seeing a box on the door. my preference is the kind in a tub but i was needy, aww, and therefore willing to put aside my precious preference [alliteration].. slap on the back of the hand: let that be a lesson to you 'young' lady. ..on one hand: kidding, relax.. on the other hand: man, talk about branding.. and what were to happen, say, if natural disaster were to hit?. there are worse things than running out of butter..
anyway, my running out of dairy goodness is not what made me incredulous. [remember? first line of post..]. my memory is not totally failing me yet [thank you very much mr. crossword-puzzle man.. or woman?.. or likely, computer program?, whatever..], a box of butter indeed was on the door of my fridge with 1/4 of a stick still remaining. woohoo.. or so i thought. then, shortly thereafter, was when incredulity hit. today is may 30, 2009. well, ok, yesterday was may 29, 2009. the expiration date of that box of butter on the door of my fridge read.. [gulp]. [luvme]. '12/15/06'.. you, or one, would've hoped the ink had partially faded and it meant to read: '12/15/08'. or the roundabouts of that era. but, sadly, let's face it, there was nowhere near fadeage with this ink. it was boldly and clearly printed [for perhaps near eternity] on that box that i found on the door of my fridge: '12/15/06'.. [have a seat. take a load off. i know, this is a lot to take in..] then i took note of the brand of this box of butter i found on the door of my fridge: wegmans. it was wegmans brand butter. wegmans. wegmans is a supermarket my mother shops at in the homestate i grew up in, a state you can say i avoid going back to with the exception of.. weddings. um, yes. weddings. like i said, it's my homestate, people tend to get married where they're from. um, yes. so the past few [that is, three] times i went back were for weddings-- trip to wegmans or any other supermarket for that matter not included. wegmans, man, wegmans. i can't remember the last time i shopped at wegmans. moreover, i can't remember the last time i bought stick butter.. o, but wait, actually i guess i do.. it must've been.. o sometime the end of '06.. 2006.. two and a fucking half years ago.. now, i don't use the acronym myself, but if i were to, i would find this an appropriate time to type: lmfao.. the kind, so hard, that it hurts. .but you know? even after two and a half effing years, not fresh, yes, to say the least, it didn't look as bad as i would have thought..
anyway. so. predicament, i found myself in. the easy route would have been to skip the fluffy leavened carbs i desired at the time and call it a [wheat-free?] night but instead i took the 'heart healthy' route-- i poured some 'evoo' [..thanku rachel..] in a dish and sprinkled freshly ground pepper atop.. my arteries thanked me. my taste buds? well, let's just say they were slightly less satisfied.. if only they hadn't anticipated moo's fat, maybe they wouldn't have been so hard to please..
the next day, first thing in the morning, well, second, after going to the bathroom.. well, third actually, i forgot i did some yoga. but absolutely third thing i did straight away the next morning, i went to the market to pick up my beloved butter [alliteration], amongst other things. and they had 'my kind'. woohoo... but. eh?!.. the 'best if used by' date read: '05/10/09'.. what year are we in?, i thought, thinking maybe i was in some time warp. but hope springs eternal. get a grip, so back to reality i thought: wha? you're shitting me. i felt like it would have been fitting if i, at that moment, were a cartoon character, standing there, creating squeaking noises as i rubbed my eyes with both my fists in disbelief. i later went to another store. also: expired.!. gasp. maybe it was just not meant to be. a sign, a sign, from the butter lords. i ended up going back to the first place and getting the salted version-- best by 08/something/09.. my mother once asked me why i use 'sweet cream', so it's called. that is, unsalted butter. my response? cause i have a cannister of salt at home. if i want salt on whatever i'm buttering, i'll use that. otherwise, why consume extra if i don't need it?. um.. period.
so, what can we learn from all of this? [..i'm currently in the middle of designing lesson plans so-to-speak, so pardon me, i'm very in the mode of bulleting lesson points..].
ahem, and the morals of the post are.. drumroll unnecessary..
--thanku refrigeration. i imagine it's an oft overlooked asset most/all take for granted.
--expiration dates: they're there for a reason. use them. and, uhh..
--..note that grocers don't always keep track of them, so careful of spending your hard-earned dough on stale goods, i mean, 'bads'.
--if there's one thing you shouldn't be a pack rat of, for sure, it's food. don't consume like a camel because you'll wind up becoming an elephant. and don't leave shit in your fridge or cupboards or pantries or whereever the hell you store your food [aka. perishables.. to perish. to go bad..]. food: it don't last forever.. 'cept maybe some of those expertly, highly-processed, packaged junk.. but, really, should you be eating that shit to begin with?.. [just asking..].
--and last, but not least: for [most] every situation, there's a bright side. look at it. and laugh more. like from where butter comes from, milk, it does a body good.

i miss my green monster... badly..

On Thursday, April 30, 2009, sometime between the minutes of 2:00pm and 2:10pm my beloved bike was stolen. It was parked/locked right in front of one of the entrances to the Time Warner building on the corner of Broadway and 60th St. It was chained to the walk/don't-walk post. I believe a tall, dark or tan-skinned man wearing a lavender top, black pants, white sneakers, a hat; carrying a simple green [~12"x12"?] bag, stole my bike. I believe a light-skinned man wearing all black, sitting and texting very close to my bike [facing it actually], may have been his accomplice.

About my bike:
--brand/model: Fuji Sagres
--year: I don't know what year it is exactly but I'm thinking maybe 2003 [otherwise 2004-05]
--color: Emerald green. White/silver lettering.
--condition: Very good. not rusty. still good paint. fairly new tires, chain/bracket.
--handle bars: Flat with slight u. ends have silver, slightly-curved horns.
--shifters: GripShift.
--grips: Translucent whitish, cut at ends because the bike originally had lever shifters.
--stem: Adjustable.
--# speeds: 24.
--seat: mongoose [from previous bike], plain, black.
--tires: Bontrager, thin.
--pedals: non-click, silver.
--kickstand: yes.

Here is what my bike looks like [minus the horns at the end of the handlebars, and the black saddle]:


Every time I leave my house, I make an effort to check out every bike I pass or that passes me to see if it's MINE. Bike recovery is slim to nil but I hope to one day find MY bike nonetheless. I hope too that this thief, this criminal, breaks his legs and then his hands and then worse. My heart is broken and I think he, and the many others like him, deserve to suffer because I and others have because of their ruthless acts. Bikes are more than just metal/rubber to their owners. That is fact. Or sentimental truth.

I am interested in finding ways to make bike parking safer. I am interested in cracking down on bike theft and having criminals pay. If you too are interested, then please let me know-- together, we'll become superheroes.

I am asking for help in finding MY bike. Please be on the lookout. Please let me know anything that may lead to my bike's recovery. Please. I ask kindly. And you $hall be $ure great reward$ will be granted. Again, MY bike is so much more than just a dollar-value to me. My heart. It aches. Badly. Badly. Please help. Please be on the lookout.