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Stage 18
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Jul. 25th, 2008 @ 03:35 am
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Stage 18: Bourg-d'Oisans to Saint-Etienne (196.5km)
If it is possible to take a vacation while spending hours and hours climbing up a mountain on a bike in the French sun, then the race took a vacation today. Not to say everyone sat back and dozed off, working on their tans. No: there were the usual attacks, sprints, chases, and crashes. In fact, Lampre’s Damiano Cunego had a spectacular fall early in the day, hitting a wall at speed with his face. The camera came upon him crouched against the wall, his bike nowhere in sight. He had to have his chin stitched right there on the road by the Tour doctor. His nose was bloody and the front of his jersey—dangerously near his throat—utterly shredded. Four of his teammates came back for him, but for a long time the man nicknamed The Little Prince trailed the peloton by ten minutes. You want to see bravery and thankfully not-literal guts? You have to see these photos: http://www.stltoday.com/blogzone/10-speed/10-speed/2008/07/cunegos-long-and-courageous-day-in-the-saddle/ .
Leading the peloton by ten minutes were two men: German Marcus Burghart, riding for Columbia, and Spaniard Carlos Barredo, riding for Quick*Step. Both of them are far enough down on GC that no one’s bothering to chase them. The two of them have been working together, drafting each other, mile after mile. But now, we’re less than 9k to the finish line, and Barredo begins the first attack. Burghardt takes off after him without a moment’s hesitation, and they settle back down again. Moments later, Burghardt sits up to zip up his open jersey. Barredo glances back, sees his opponent without his hands on the bars, and attacks again. Once more, Burghardt jumps him. Lather, rinse, repeat. It’s fascinating to watch: they swerve back and forth, trying to shake the other man, or get him to come through and take the lead, cutting the wind and giving the other the slipstream advantage. 120k of teamsmanship is forgotten as they play each other in a cat-and-mouse game.
Three riders are following by five minutes. Mikel Astarloza of Euskatel Euskadi, Romain Feillu of Agritubel, and Christophe Le Mevel of Credit Agricole are trying to catch up, but have actually lost time to the leaders. 2.7k to go, and there are attacks in the peloton as well. CSC has maintained the pace all day, protecting Carlos Sastre, their teammate and Tour leader. But now they’ve awakened. Andy Schleck attacks, is caught quickly, but has pulled a small group of riders off the front with him.
The two leaders are still fighting tooth and nail, Barredo swerving nastily to shake off Burghardt. It doesn’t work. They are rapidly approaching the finish line. They can see it. 400 meters. 300. Burghardt all but stops, looking over his shoulder, watching. They are creeping, waiting to start the sprint, neither wanting to fire first. It’s the most bizarre thing I have ever seen in the Tour. Burghardt is actually coasting, watching, Barredo right on his wheel. Still closer they get—they know they’ll have one bullet, and one shot: they’ve been at this all day, and neither has a shred of energy to spare. 200. Closer, closer—who’ll break first…? 150 meters to the line….
And it’s Burghardt! Barredo responds instantly, but it’s like an eBay bidding war left one second too late. A sudden explosion, and Burghardt is over the line first, raising his arms and cheering, while Barredo punches the air in rage and frustration. I can almost hear him screaming from here.
Roman Feillu just tips Christophe Le Mevel and Mikel Astarloza on the line—they come in third through fifth, respectively. Frank Schleck brings in the beginning of the peloton, and amazingly, here’s a flurry from the big sprinters to wring the last few sprint points out of the stage. Erik Zabel steals them from Thor Hushovd and the rest.
Carlos Sastre retains the yellow jersey, looking considerably better after an “easy” day that would put most people in the hospital. He even smiles this time as he’s zipped into his prize on the podium. Burghardt, on the other hand, beams like a lighthouse. It’s also apparent as he stands there, three steps up from the leggy models who flank him to present his plaque and bouquet, that this man is—for a cyclist—bizarrely tall. Every other rider, it seems, barely tops the ladies. No wonder he’s such a powerful sprinter—his legs have to be a quarter-mile long.
Today’s Extras:
In slightly more grim news, however, it was announced yesterday that after the positive doping tests for one of its riders which caused Team Saunier Duval to withdraw from the race, said team has now also lost its sponsor. Saunier Duval is, essentially, dead. All the people who worked for the team, and the riders who rode for it, are now out of a job. Good going, you flaming bastard. Hope it was worth getting your entire crew sacked.
Marcus Burghardt…Marcus Burghardt…hm. Where have I heard that name before? Oh! I remember now! He was the poor bastard who came flying off his bike last year after colliding with a black lab in the middle of the road. He did finish the stage. More importantly, the dog was fine. Apparently, emailers to Versus TV were far more worried about the dog than the cyclist. I can’t say as I blame them—at least we SAW Burghardt get up.
Unsurprisingly, Damiano Cunego, facing potentially nasty injuries to his throat and face, has abandoned. He did, however, finish the stage today despite his early bloodbath. He came in 20 minutes after Burghardt, but he DID finish. That, to me, is as impressive as a stage win will ever be. |
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On parking lots.
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Jul. 24th, 2008 @ 11:23 pm
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Why is it that the best conversations seem to happen in parking lots after the party's over? Or in the kitchen, cleaning up?
Not to say I didn't have some fabulous conversation inside Michael's Deli with the lovely ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) sterling2905. But while we were in the parking lot afterwards, I came to not one, but two pretty head-stunning realisations.
The first one is about this Doctor Who frenzy I've been in lately. I utterly loathe and despise anything that carries the faintest whiff of fangirl. I nearly walked out of Billy Franks' gig the other week when I realised there were myriad women flashing their curves and their lashes at him. I've always been that way: when I met Nick Rhodes, lo those many years ago, and everyone around me was screaming, "Nick! NICK!" flashing photos in his eyes, and jamming things for him to sign under his nose, I calmly held up my album and said, most politely, "Excuse me, Mr. Rhodes, but would you sign this for me?"
So why am I so fixated on this show, this crew, this actor? Oh, yes-- the latter: he's single, he's almost my age, and he's quite deliciously hot. But I'm not fifteen. So what is it?
Well, then I realised I've been thinking a lot lately about theatre, and the collaborative effort, and perhaps trying to get back into designing for productions. Maybe even acting. But something.
And then, it sort of struck me sideways while I was talking: in my brain, this ensemble of creatives has become my virtual/pseudo artist's collective.
For centuries, artists have gathered into knots for mutual inspiration, experimentation, and critique. One does not create in a vacuum. The creative process has to be fed. Sometimes, it has to be kicked in the ass. And I've had no one to do that for me in, sadly, years. If ever. In fact, maybe it's no so much that I miss school as I miss having other neurons rapid-firing around me. I miss watching other people climb mountains with art and craft. I miss trying to climb up after them. I miss having someone to inspire me. And if I can't have it in person, I'll get it second-hand: I'll watch someone whose love of his art explodes out of him. I'll watch a writing team bashing out ideas. I'll watch an effects shop bring the ephemeral to the actual. I'm watching clips of read-throughs and preproduction meetings because it feeds my inner collaborative artist. Which leaves me with some obvious questions: is secondhand enough? Do I need to get back into theatre, despite my constant declarations that I don't want to? Do I need a collective?
And then, as if that wasn't enough, on the heels of that blow to the inner skull, I realised that since I've stopped talking to my family-- gut-wrenchingly, horrifically distressing as it is-- I've finally started to actually think of myself as an artist. Erin laughed at me when I said I never did before. "Everyone else thinks you are," she said. But no one else has my Mom in their head with the insidious nagging to play safe, take a desk job: I'm not an artist, I'm an aging child with a hobby. I have finally, perhaps, started to shut that voice down: to see my difficulties as rocks in the road, not enormous Les-Mis barricades complete with singing kids and heroic corpses. I'm sure it's helped that in the last few months, I'm finally starting to see a distant glimmer of light as orders become ever so slightly more regular, and money starting to trickle in-- slowly, yes, but steadily. It's not nearly enough to cover my bills, no, but the point is it's coming in. And I've been to FedEx twice now to ship out this week alone, with several more to go. I'm an artist, and I'm working.
I don't know what I'm going to do now. I'm going to stay in corsetry for the foreseeable future, but also expand my costuming. I'm going to expand my art corset line. I'm going to figure out how to let my family back into my life, but I'm also going to figure out how to set boundaries-- the boundaries I didn't know how to set before. Hell, I don't even think I knew to set them at all.
And one way or the other, I will see "Hamlet." And every other creative effort I can find. |
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Gah! DRAT!
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Jul. 24th, 2008 @ 10:53 pm
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What did I miss?!?!
Your result for The Commonly Confused Words Test... English GeniusYou scored 100% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 100% Advanced, and 87% Expert! You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go!
Thank you so much for taking my test. I hope you enjoyed it!
For the complete Answer Key, visit my blog: http://shortredhead78.blogspot.com/.
Take The Commonly Confused Words Test at HelloQuizzy |
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Stages 16 and 17.
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Jul. 24th, 2008 @ 03:20 am
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Stage 16 and 17
Stage 16: Cuneo to Jausiers (157km)
Yesterday was not pretty.
The men who determine the course of the Tour de France often do so with particularly brutal, sadistic enthusiasm. Yesterday’s course took the Tour along the highest road in Europe. And as if that weren’t enough, threw in two mountains. Mountains with not only gruesome ascents, but utterly terrifying descents.
Towards the end of the stage, the youngest rider in the Tour,John-Lee Augustyn of France, who turns the ripe old age of twenty one on Saturday, took off from the front of the Peloton. It was obvious he meant to grab the glory of the first over the mountain for himself. Although the Barloworld rider is nowhere on GC, it was impossible not to cheer his amazing effort as he left not just any riders, but the GC stars behind. And he did it: 40 points in the King of the Mountain competition, and 5,000 euros for being first over the line at the highest point in the 2008 Tour.
But the problem with being the youngest rider in the Tour is that it often means you’re one of the lesser-experienced riders in the Tour. And unfortunately, when a big part of your day consists of a very technical, very dangerous, very, very, VERY fast descent down a mountain, you really do need to know what you’re doing.
( Read more ) |
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Traveling...
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Jul. 23rd, 2008 @ 11:07 am
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Woo hoo! Look how much left of the U.S. I still have to experience!! Now to start finding friends in the central and Southern parts of the country
visited 20 states (40%)
Create your own visited map of The United States or determine the next presidentCurrent Mood:  okay |
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Torn. SO torn.
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Jul. 23rd, 2008 @ 10:42 am
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There's something called a London transfer season. The RSC brings its Stratford season to the West End. Tickets for Hamlet are on sale to RSC members, but not to the public until September. In other words, if I join the RSC-- which I have no problem doing-- I could get a seat, with luck. The problem is that the performances are in December/January.
So. I could go over in the fall, see Todd and Kate and hang out. See the other productions I'm longing to see. But then I'd have to go back again in January just for Hamlet and A Midsummer Night's Dream. That's $665 for the flight alone, and I'd have to stay in a hotel.
But...you only live once.
Gah. |
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Cat toy?
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Jul. 23rd, 2008 @ 12:17 am
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I just printed off a document for school and the cat climbed up to watch the printer work. It seems to be a source of endless fascination to her. When it stopped, she cried to the printer, telling it to do more. I was tempted to print something else just for her entertainment, but that game could cost me a fortune after a while!Current Mood:  amused |
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Tired.
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Jul. 21st, 2008 @ 09:05 pm
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I didn't get enough sleep last night. By a long shot. Had to get up at a semi-reasonable hour, forgot I had to get gas and then hit the curb driving into the gas station, and then wound up being late for work by half an hour. One of my least favourite people was working there-- half the time she talks to me she feels it necessary to roll her eyes and look at me like I'm crazy. She's very...normal, and absolutely doesn't understand what I do.
Which if course brings me to my family. Neither do they understand. We haven't spoken in over a month, now, and I found myself in RiteAid this evening trying to pick a birthday card for my mother, whose birthday is tomorrow. My mother, at whom I'm still so terribly angry. My mother, who invalidated the last three, four, ten years of my life by finally just coming right out and saying the career I'm fighting so hard for is just a hobby, and it's time to give it up and get a real job.
What kind of a birthday card says that? Maybe one with music? Something with glitter? How about a cute bunny that says, "Thanks for trying your best to ruin my life. It's not working, but happy birthday, anyhow." I must've been in there for half an hour, wandering back and forth. Nothing too patently insincere with flowers and birds, nothing snarky and mean about age. I wanted to give up-- guilt, anger, frustration-- what a great way to choose a birthday card. But I finally picked something innocuous, bought it, got into my car, and dropped it through the mail slot at my parents'.
I'm still angry. I'm still terribly, terribly hurt. The last few months, I feel I've been forced to strip away people in my life I thought I could trust, but who just haven't been there for me in a crunch. In the end, the only one who's always going to be there for me is...me.
Oh, well. |
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Stage 15
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Jul. 21st, 2008 @ 03:22 am
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Stage 15, Embrun to Prato Nevoso (185km)
Adrenaline, testosterone, and blood. Lots of blood.
We’re not only in the mountains now—our first day into the Alps—we’re in Italy, as well. It’s 2.5k to the end, and the field has fractured: a lead group of three, a chase group of eight, then the peloton. What’s left of it.
It’s a rainy, patchy day on the road. Apparently, there’s usually a lot of oil on the roads in Italy, and it certainly seems that way today. An horrendous crash early in the stage took out ’06 Tour champion Oscar Pereiro with a broken shoulder—he went right over a retaining wall on a hairpin turn, fell twelve feet, and landed horribly in the middle of the road below with the peloton still streaming through. He was taken immediately to the hospital. Everyone was stunned, but thank G-d, he never lost consciousness, and they say he'll be just fine. Shortly before the climb up the second mountain of the day, Prato Nevoso, an enormous roundabout took out a vast amount of the peloton on not one but both sides of the immense circle. And in another rare event, Denis Menchov was going so fast in his ascent (riders usually aren’t going fast enough while climbing to have a hard crash) he overbalanced on a slippery patch and went right over on his wrist, losing the chain off his bike. More amazingly, he got right back up, got the chain back on his gear, and rejoined the chase group.
Said chase group contains the top General Classification men: maillot jaune Cadel Evans, brothers Andy and Frank Schleck, Christian Vandevelde, Carlos Sastre, Bernard Kohl, Alejandro Valverde. They’re beating the living crap out of each other on the way to the summit: one attack after another, brutalising each other’s legs. It’s almost sickening to watch. But they’re all close enough in time to one another that a few seconds could change the race standings completely. Just seconds. They don’t care that there are three riders ahead—they don’t matter. They’re not high enough on GC.
But Simon Gerrans of Credit Agricole, Danny Pate of Garmin-Chipotle, and Egoi Martinez of Euskatel Euskadi care. They sprint towards the end—and it’s Aussie Simon Gerrans over the line first! It’s his fourth tour, and his first stage win! Danny Pate, one of four Americans in the race, crosses third and moves himself up handily. (Though he’ll later admit he’s disappointed—he wanted the stage.)
The true drama is coming up behind them: the battle for the maillot jaune. Cadel is determined not to lose it today, and may well do himself some damage, wearing himself too far down. It might be wiser to save something for the rest of the mountain stages, but the yellow jersey has a mind of its own, and men do crazy things wearing it.
Bernard Kohl is close enough to the top that he can smell it. He attacks—he’s over the line. Is he far enough ahead to take the lead? Denis Menchov is over the line, here comes Cadel Evans—he’s over the line! But is it enough? Has the jersey passed to Frank Schleck?
And yes! Frank, the CSC rider from Luxembourg, aided by his brother Andy, has taken the race lead. He and Cadel Evans have been one second apart from each other for five stages now—and now Frank is seven seconds ahead. It’s still far too close a race to call a winner.
Rest day tomorrow, and then, more mountains. I bet they can’t wait. |
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Utterly silly.
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Jul. 21st, 2008 @ 01:47 am
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Stolen from Kaige.
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Jul. 20th, 2008 @ 01:39 pm
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Aw! I have honour! And power! And a really fucked up love life.
Your result for The Camelot Test... King Arthur
You value honor and equality. You are courageous and logical. While you may be passionate at times, you rarely let your emotion affect your decisions. You are (according to legend) probably the greatest monarch of all time. Take The Camelot Test at HelloQuizzy |
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Another day, another Treo.
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Jul. 20th, 2008 @ 12:39 am
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For those of you playing along with the home game? This is the fifth one that's died on me. This was the refurbished model they sent me last week, that I'd waited two weeks to get. The one that started going downhill within two hours out of the box. They can't tell me when I'll get the Instinct, and when I called today-- pretty pissed-- I actually got one fucking bitch on the phone who said, essentially, "Well, it's on backorder. I don't know what you expect me to do about that." Yes, I asked for her supervisor. No, I really didn't get anywhere. Maybe I'll have the new phone this week.
So. Who has AT&T? Who has an iPhone? Do you like it? I'm really, really open to hearing about it at the moment. |
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New Tricks
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Jul. 19th, 2008 @ 01:32 pm
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Mostly for Silverstah.
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Jul. 19th, 2008 @ 04:56 am
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Some extra bits from Wikipedia that touch on what we were discussing before:
( Cut just in case some of y'all haven't seen the finale yet. ) |
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Delicious.
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Jul. 19th, 2008 @ 02:20 am
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Some nice Who news:
http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/showbiz/tv/article1437685.ece
There's a tidbit at the end concerning another returning character for one of next year's specials. It's The Sun, so take it all with a grain of salt. But then, it's not something we all didn't expect. But if you don't want the tip-off, don't look. |
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REGISTRATION NOW OPEN FOR DARK ODYSSEY: SUMMER CAMP 08
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Jul. 18th, 2008 @ 08:24 pm
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Stage Thirteen!
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Jul. 18th, 2008 @ 07:14 pm
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Stage Thirteen:113 miles, Narbonne to Nimes
French rider Florent Brard of Cofidis and Dutch Niki Terpstra of Milram are the lucky riders in the breakaway today. It’s been hours, we’re less than 47k to the end, and the peloton is closing. They’ve been out front the entire time, but they won’t make it to the end. What they have managed is to get intermediate sprint points and the resultant money they bring—800 euros ($1200) each, plus, I believe, another 600 if you win all three. Not bad for a day’s work. And those breakaways serve another purpose, too.
An interesting bit of strategy just happened that I found fascinating. We have two riders out in front. They’re not hours ahead, but it’s certainly not like anyone’s going to catch them up this very second. The first two places for each sprint are therefore taken—lost to the other riders. But there are three places to win, and even third place is important—especially if you’re just a few points down in the prestigious green jersey points competition.
But on a long stage like this, where there’ll be a hard sprint finish, one thing you don’t want is to tire out your team’s best sprinter before the end. So today, out of nowhere, Juan Antonio Fletcha, Spanish rider for Rabobank, shot forward and seized the last sprint points. He’s nowhere in the standings. He has no chance whatsoever to win the green jersey. But what he’s done has guaranteed the peloton will continue at its steady pace, and his sprinter will live to fight another kilometer.
Under 20k to the finish, and here’s another surprise: after nearly 175km, Terpstra has dropped Brard like an overwarm spud. A Cofidis rider has come up to comfort (and support) Brard, but Terpstra is hovering at a minute ahead and showing no signs of giving up. It’s obvious how he won eight Dutch championships. The peloton is gaining, but he’s not giving up. Might he make it?
Aw, damn. No.
Six miles to go, and Terpstra’s caught. He drops like a stone through the peloton as it rumblingly digests him and reorganises itself to put its captains in place for the finish.
And probably the most spectacular crash of the Tour so far! A Gerolsteiner rider, Sven Kraus, is slowly standing up in the middle of the road as the end of the peloton swirls past, and his bike has just FLOWN OVER HIS HEAD IN TWO PIECES. Damn. I’ll be waiting for video of THAT. (He hit a post—what they call “road furniture.” He’s fine, btw, but his bike shattered on the asphalt. I mean, came completely apart. Literally.)
And Cofidis isn’t done yet! Sylvain Chavanel has taken off like his ass is on fire—and he’s close enough to the end, and in good enough form—that he may just make it. Milram, Garmin-Chipotle, and Columbia have other ideas, of course. Milram wants Erik Zabel to take the day. George Hincapie is determined that Columbia will deliver Mark Cavendish for a fourth stage. Garmin-Chipotle for Julian Dean.
3k, and Chavanel is caught. The peloton is together, setting up for a spectacular sprint. Liquigas is pulling. Now Milram. 200 meters! There’s blood in the water, the crowd is screaming. Robbie McEwen is challenging—Mark Cavendish is boxed in. Thor Hushovd comes up the outside—but it’s too late! Cavendish has found the break in the fence, and he’s off like a shot! Two lengths between him and Robbie McEwen! A fourth stage win—absolutely unprecedented for a British rider!
Nimes to Digne-les-Baines tomorrow. A stage almost entirely uphill—hang on, we’re heading into the Alps!
Bits for today:
The centre of Nimes has an honest-to-G-d Roman coliseum. Unlike Rome, theirs is in one piece, and currently sporting an enormous and very state-of-the-art stage and lighting rig.
Mark Cavendish is from the Isle of Man.
Five litres of liquid. Ten to fifteen bottles PER STAGE. That’s how much these guys have to consume, or face up to 20% decrease in efficiency. Dehydration is absolutely ugly to see—Lance Armstrong won an Alpine stage with a ring of salt around his mouth, looking like death on a bike. This is why the domestiques spend the entire race going back to the team car for more and more water—up until 20k from the end, when you can’t go back to the team car any more. You’d better make sure you load up before you go under that marker. |
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Possible yay!
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Jul. 18th, 2008 @ 11:37 am
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http://www.denofgeek.com/television/87194/doctor_who_is_david_tennant_about_to_sign_up_for_more.html
Doctor Who: is David Tennant about to sign up for more?
It looks like the Tardis will remain under David Tennant's control, if rumours circulating this morning prove to be right...
Simon Brew
According to reports circulating this morning, David Tennant is on the verge of putting pen to paper on a deal that will keep him tied to the Tardis until the end of 2010.
The rumour mill has been strongly suggested that once the four special episodes had been broadcast in 2009, that Tennant would pass the role over to someone else, with Robert Carlyle very strongly linked. However, the BBC has come up with a big money offer to keep Tennant attached to the show, with £1.5m cited as the potential pay packet that he could earn.
If he agrees, then he’ll be back at work on Doctor Who series five – under the stewardship of Steven Moffat – in the Autumn of 2009. |
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Politics I Can Dig
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Jul. 17th, 2008 @ 11:40 pm
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Gimme a fiver!
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Jul. 17th, 2008 @ 03:47 pm
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5 jobs I've had:
bakery assistant
bookseller
call center supervisor
student orientation leader
child support worker
5 movies I can watch over & over:
Legally Blonde
Pretty Woman
Princess Bride
Stand By Me
The Wedding Singer
5 places I've lived:
Cleveland, OH
Columbus, OH
Dayton, OH
Note to self: I REALLY need to move out of Ohio!!!
5 TV shows I love:
Medium
The Golden Girls
CSI (Vegas ONLY!!)
Law & Order (especially SVU)
Secret Lives of Women
5 places I've been on vacation:
San Francisco, CA
Clearwater, FL
Italy
Toronto, Canada
Las Vegas
5 of my favorite meals:
Kielbasa, macaroni and cheese and bluberry muffins (my ab fab comfort-food meal!)
Bacon-wrapped filet mignon, a baked potato, and a glass of Sterling Cabernet
Melting Pot fondue
Betty's Tazzo Ham and Chicken Penne
Any sandwich and the Tip Top's eggplant fries!!
5 websites I visit daily:
www.yahoo.com
www.gmail.com
www.livejournal.com
www.key.com
www.collarme.com
5 places I'd rather be now:
In grad school
Somewhere in the Caribbean on a sunny beach with a cosmopolitan in one hand and a good piece of fiction in the other
In Vegas visiting my friend Mitch
In bed with a cherished lover
In Capri, Italy, eating pizza on the veranda of the restaurant at the top of the islandCurrent Mood:  bored |
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