New, big purchase, recession or no.

My new (old) bike!
Originally uploaded by dckatastrophe

Lots of big, life purchases are made in your mid-twenties. I know people buying rings, buying homes, buying cars, or buying time. You know, for their grown up lives of homeownership, parenting, and credit-having.

I just bought the most gorgeous vintage bicycle. Really, who needs a better life-stage purchase than that?

It's true, it wasn't expensive. Five crisp twenties handed over to some kindly Dutch lady who was moving back to the Netherlands who had this bike while she was here.

She loved this bike, all three speeds of it. The fenders especially, for the rain.

I like it because this is a dream. Well, part of the dream.

Since I've lived in DC, I've wanted a bike. Since I was an idiot eighteen-year-old, wide-eyed with the city life. Specifically, with a basket. To put a puppy in. And streamers. Perhaps a horn. To ride to Eastern Market. To purchase veggies and fresh flowers. To ride home to my perfect life.

Now I have the bike. No basket or streamers or puppy or veggies. Just yet. But I live near Eastern Market. And I sometimes have fresh flowers.

I might have to buy this first. But otherwise. I like this stage. Free transportation is a good thing.

Somebody please just hit the lights

I'm ashamed by my new love affair. I've only said it out loud I think twice, and only cavort with it at work.

Really, work needs it.

A little Paula Abdul that is.

Seriously, it's like my cool kid card should be revoked. Ok, ok, ok, ok, like the half a cool kid card I found on the sidewalk once should be revoked. I should be telling you how much I love Vampire Weekend, but instead I really just want to dance like there's no tomorrow.



I don't know WHY exactly either. It's a little magic carpet ride, a little Prince hooky baseline, a little forever your girl, a little "Remember the Time" Michael Jackson kick-back and tres over-produced. Paula's voice is as flat as a pancake and as thin as her hair.

It's the kind of song you make dances up to. This song calls for three Katastrophic signature moves: making one's neck work (generally in a circle from right to left), the Roger Rabbit and the Michael Jackson snap while leaning to one side.

You should give it a try. It feels good. But not great. This song is the appetizer to your entree of Rhianna. The amuse bouche to your Fergie. This song revs you up to hear oooooooh what's next? Because that song is ABOUT that feeling. it's like an M.C. Escher drawing of getting ready to go out and flip your hair around, 3 cocktails to the wind and in a new shirt.

But I'll still take it, I'm a little cheesy.

Case in point: I'm the kind of girl who's had 7 PBR's and when "Umbrella" comes on at the Argonaut, I whip out my umbrella from my purse and do a little Mummers strut in my chair while I'm a little losing my balance and a lot losing my pride. At the Argonaut. Cuz there's lots of dancing at the Argonaut. With an umbrella open indoors. Bouncing above our heads. I squarely blame awesome bartender Lee and my boyfriend's birthday celebration for that. And PBR was $2.75.