Yet another comic book I’ve deemed worthy of an entry all of its own. Blacksad is a French comic written and illustrated by two Spanish men. It’s finally been translated into English and collected into a hardback by Dark Horse. And it’s nothing short of incredible.
It’s the first time since Usagi Yojimbo – Chanoyu that I actually felt compelled to read something again. I haven’t as yet. I’m taking my time in doing so to draw out the anticipation. I have flicked through it several times and each time I’m just amazed at how good it is. The artwork by Juanjo Guarnido is simply stunning and the scripts by Juan Díaz Canales are godsmackingly good.
I must admit that I do have a soft spot for a comics that feature anthropomorphic animals. However, this is on a whole other level of sheer awesomeness. Usually stories that feature these sorts of characters verge on being twee and overly cutesy so Blacksad is the most refreshing of changes because it has a realistic feel to it and the themes running through it are quite dark.
I’m desperately hoping the new comic gets translated into English. Otherwise, I might just have to learn how to read French.
Yup, I felt compelled to take a photo of my leg after I’d peeled off my overshoes and socks when I finally made it home this morning.
I’m so hardcore. 😉
It stopped drizzling about 15 minutes into my ride and I felt pretty good. Got all the way to Black Rock with it only drizzling briefly once or twice. It was when I’d turned around and started to head for home that the heavens opened. Today’s lesson was that rain coming in sideways on your face when you’re ticking along at about 30ks actually hurts. However, I pedaled past plenty of whimpy men who’d stopped to take shelter.
My thinking was that I was already saturated and I had no idea how long the rain was going to last so I might as well continue. It really took it out of me though. At one point I was thinking about finding the nearest train station but I figured actually finding one, waiting for the train, getting on it, heading into the city and changing trains to one that would take me home would’ve taken longer than simply riding home. I still would’ve been saturated but not moving so there would’ve been no body heat being generated which would’ve left me feeling utterly miserable. Plus I probably would’ve stunk the train out and been very unpopular.
And to show just how hardcore I really am, a photo of the back of my jersey before it went in the washing machine.
I am wondering if it will be white ever again.
But to turn to other things…
Viewed a few places yesterday. At one of them, the current tenant had a very sexy black Bianchi. (Geez, I really can’t get away from the bike stuff can I?). The first place I looked at was totally disgusting. And grossly over-priced. The last one was actually kinda depressing. It looked like it was currently home to a divorced dad with two kids that he got on the weekends. It was crammed full of stuff and there was hardly any room to move.
This probably isn’t the best decision but I’ve decided to be choosy about where I end up. I really don’t want to be somewhere crappy. I’m okay with spending more to have something nice. Worse case scenario plans are falling into place so I feel a little more relaxed about it then I did.
Oh, and I’m so totally digging the ads for the upcoming Tour de France on SBS’s FIFA World Cup coverage at the moment. After the Giro d’Aussie, sorry d’Italia, I think I might be having a few late nights in July.
It’s 9:15 on a Sunday morning and I’m not out riding my bike. What’s wrong with this picture?
I have zero motivation to do so at the moment. I’m actually still lying in bed. I pulled my blind up a little so I can see that it’s not raining and probably won’t rain but I just can’t be bothered to get up. Plus there’s this whole thing of having my legs squeal in pain every time I move after yesterday’s heavy-on-the-legs group training session.
Whinge, whinge, whinge.
What I should be doing is remembering that it’s okay to not get on the bike every single weekend. That I am allowed to have a rest. The weather also isn’t helping. It’s hard to get motivated to get out of bed when you know it’s only around 6 – 8°C and if there’s any wind at all it makes it feel even colder. I am looking forward to the day when going for a ride doesn’t involve putting on multiple layers of clothing in an attempt to keep warm. It’ll also be nice to not have to ride in the dark so much, although it is pretty amazing to see the sunrise. I’ve seen a few where the sky looks like it’s on fire. Still, not going to miss the numb feet (even with fleecy overshoes) or the cold ears.
There’s also no rule that says I have to go for a ride in the morning. Maybe I’ll feel motivated later in the day to go out and that’s fine too. At least it’ll be a little warmer.
I suppose there’s an obvious answer to what’s causing my lack of motivation – this being that I have to find a new place to live as the owner wants to move in. If I’d decided to move off my own bat I think I’d have a much more positive attitude about it. Having a deadline by which we must be gone is more than a little intimidating. However, my brother put it best when he said I was looking at this the wrong way and I should embrace it as an opportunity for a fresh start. And I think he’s probably right.
Right now I think a fresh start would be an excellent idea. I’ve found myself feeling angry so much of the time and I feel really dissatisfied with the direction my life has been taking. I’m not a fan of the person I’ve become in the last few months so this is an opportunity to do something about it. To a degree I feel that I have very little control over what happens in my life and going out on my own again is a way to wrest that control back. New home equals new opportunities and a chance to work out what I’m doing at my own pace without any outside pressure or influences. Financially it’s going to suck as living on your own isn’t cheap but I’m choosing to think of it as investing in my well-being.
My first reaction was to panic. Two months seems like such a short time to find somewhere to live. But panicking serves no one and I need to have faith that everything will work itself out. It’s happened before so there’s no reason to think it won’t happen again. I just have to keep telling myself that I will find somewhere to live and that there’s no need to freak out. Chances are it won’t be my dream home but I’m sure I’ll find somewhere that’ll be okay. Also, if I’m honest, as much I love this house, there are some thing I will not miss about it – like the rather loud religious chanting in Greek that’s being played next door right now.
This whole growing up thing sucks. It’s not fun when you realise you’ve actually made a bit of a mess of your life. Still, helps to remember that life is nothing but progression – gotta be with the whole moving forward.