Blorange

I have to get this out.

So last night, I was biking in Kitchener on Corrie's bike, at 11:30 at night, to get back to the place I'm staying, (Matt Cardases, Jamie Knight, and that gang. Good people.) and I'm not sure how it happened. I'm thirty seconds on the road out of Corrie's place, and my dragonfly bag was sitting funny, and my leg was hitting it every time I pedaled. The kickstand was out too far, so the pedal was also dinging that as well. So I'm distracted kicking my kickstand with my foot, and adjusting my bag. Kickstand went well, but the bag wasn't working. I adjusted my bag again, but somehow, (I'm still not sure how) I flew over the front of the bike...

It's weird. When things like this happens, everything slows down, and I can see every detail, yet I completely forget most of it. And there's this strange, almost tranquil side of me that analyzes everything, and stays almost annoyingly calm.

The next thing I know, I'm lying on my back, sprawled out. I'm on the middle of the road, and the asphalt is still warm from the day's heat. Corrie's bike is on top of me, and I do not know what just happened, or how I got there. I'm staring at the black sky, that the orange lights turn the sky this nasty blue-orange color. I used to call it Blorange. I tilted my head, vaguely wondering why the street is so empty, and wouldn't you know, the bus is coming! The 7A, which goes to Fairview through Connaught, to be exact.

"Huh. I wonder if it'll stop for me. I don't want to get up." I thought to myself, almost too calmly. "No... wait, that is a big bus. It's quite close, and I'm laying on the ground. It's not going to see me... HOLY SHIT!!!" And this I screamed as I rolled out from under the bike, and tumbled onto the sidewalk.

I'm bleeding, and my lip is tingling, and pulsing uncomfortably. But beyond that, I'm completely unharmed. What a STRANGE moment. I was breathing heavily, as I processed everything that just happened, and it's at this part where that annoyingly calm part of me vanishes, and I start to panic. Like, earlier, I was talking to Corrie about booking a flight to Vancouver, and planning to pick up my car with Anthony the next day. I'm going to the CSL next week. I'm going to the Coldplay concert at the end of July, and this time, I'm bringing my camera to take pictures. I haven't finished reading The Divine Comedy. I have far too many exciting things to do and see to get flattened by a bus in a thirty second lapse of time, where one moment, I'm adjusting my bag, and the next, I'm lying flat on the ground, with a bike on top of me, watching the bus approach.

It was just too close for comfort, and all of the possibilities for me not coming out of it so unscathed are just too likely for me to be happy about it all. It has just shook me up about how fast and unexpected something extremely bad could happen, and how quickly things change, when you least expect it, and right when you're in the thick of it all. Thank God though, it is not the end. Not yet. I don't want to go yet.

A lovely man from Alberta pulled over to see if I was okay. The bike worked fine, and then I got into a great conversation with him on the side of the road about corporate greed, how capitalism is marring the beauty of society, and how ugly Canadian cities are. It was certainly interesting going back to the house. I bumped into Dan Sage (this guy I was CONVINCED had a crush on me...) and he was sitting on the porch, smoking a pipe. I parked my bike, and then he invited me to smoke a pipe with him. Somehow, he didn't notice I was covered in blood. But I did smoke a pipe with him for a bit. It was very nice, surprisingly. I should avoid pipes. I got inside, and Jamie Knight and Curtis Healy gave me very shocked looks. I was covered in quite a bit of blood, and pretty worse for wear. But ice and a washcloth helped significantly. Jamie would make a good doctor.

But now, because of this experience, I am legitimately afraid that if I were die in such a fashion, my last words, out of reaction, would be, "Holy shit!"