Sucks, that this is my first post...

Last night, on my way home (to David and Terry's), from my house meeting (at my soon-to-be new house), I got mugged. I was on my bike, and had crossed the South Street bridge, heading away from West Philly. I was heading in the direction of 30th Street station, debating whether I wanted to try to ride my bike all the way back to Mt. Airy, despite having forgotten my bike light, or whether I should try to take the train, since I didn't have enough cash to take the train, and wanted to avoid ATM fees... What happened obviously put things in perspective... Anyway, so I was just sort of meandering on side streets. I came to a not-too-well-lit intersection, and there were two teenagers, a boy and a girl, probably about 15-years-old, standing in the middle of the intersection. The girl was like, "Hey, do you know how to get to, um, um," turning to the boy, "Where are we?" I had slowed down to listen to her, and it was about this time that I started to get really nervous. It all happened really fast, actually. From nervousness, to starting to try to get away to realizing that I was about to be attacked... The boy shoved me down, and started screaming, "Give me everything!" and I guess I handed him my backpack, and he repeated, "Everything!" and I choked out, "I don't have shit!" which both meant, "I have 2 dollars in my wallet," and "You're taking everything I have..."

For some reason, they didn't take my bike, thankfully, and they sauntered away as I straightened my handlebars and rode off, quite shaken up.

I made it to Lacey's, where Tandy and Lacey were just chilling, thankfully, and they took good care of me.

While making an inventory of what had been in my backpack, it took me the longest time to remember that my digital camera, with all my pictures, from Dyke March in Chicago, my bike ride, Falcon Ridge Folk Festival, and everything in between--all that was gone, as well as my mp3 player, with all my music... The irony is that I haven't even gotten used to owning those, and hardly ever remember to bring them with me, but had made a point of remembering yesterday.

Thankfully, I sustained no worse injuries than a scraped knee. Possessions are just things, and they don't really matter. It really f*ing sucks that all my pictures are gone--those can't be replaced, but again--I'm alive, and I have good people in my life who take good care of me.

I'm pissed, and sad, and grateful to be alive, and just really shaky and freaked out. I want to be more careful about where I ride at night... At the same time, I don't want to be afraid of my own shadow, and I think it might take some time to feel... okay riding any where at night. I think I'm mostly pissed at those kids for making me feel so powerless and victimized. Jerks! I give them a big thumbs-down!

Anyway, as you see, I've retained my quirky sense of humor--my favorite coping mechanism--so I guess that makes me a survivor, not a victim. And my sarcasm and cynicism, which makes me want to make jokes about those word choices (survivor vs. victim), even though I take the distinction, and the empowerment therein, seriously. Ah, coping.

Well, folks, I believe it's time to sign off. I need sleep. Let's see if we can make that happen.