i.e. stuff that makes no sense, stuff people ignore, and passive-aggressive stuff that will guarantee I don't get anymore noms.

( ... )

 Several years ago, my family owned three bikes. One ancient blue something laser bike with tires that seriously needed replacing, one undersized red bike, and a fairly new, dark brown one that was later stolen straight out of the garage.

It was summer, grade 11, because clearly I still had time to burn wandering around Scarborough, and the bike hadn't been stolen yet. For whatever reason (does it matter? because it doesn't), I biked to Warden/Steeles via McNicoll and returned via Steeles, because frankly McNicoll is a bit weirdly shaped and I pitched myself into a ditch in one of the hydro fields once, plus I only know the route west. I'm definitely more comfortable on Steeles, traffic be damned, because I've actually walked that particular route to go to Bethune for my music exams. 

That particular day, it was raining lightly, so I wanted to go home quickly. 

And that's the moment. Biking home in the rain, passing faux-traditional brick houses (was that a funeral estate?) and P mall and then the final stretch of suburban backyards and brick plazas, as the streets become more and more familiar.