My name is Friday….

My name is Friday.

At least that’s what my cycle class instructor calls me.

Look, I do realise there are fifteen others in that class, and I do understand she doesn’t have a clue that I am a tree climbing chocoholic, liable to be found dancing with a stuffed rabbit and my daughters prep class teacher at the surf club if given half a chance (for the record I wasn’t the only one dancing with the rabbit) and I know that at times I have quite rightly been called delusional… but not this time.

I know when she screams out “OKAY FRIDAY, LETS GIVE IT SOME RPM!!!” she is talking only to me.

I mean, it IS all about me… right?

Shh, don’t destroy it… don’t tell me it’s not real… I think… I think I love her!

I mean, take her playlist for starters. Black Eyed Peas, Gunners and Peter Andre. And if you aren’t sure of the words, that’s fine, she’ll sing it for you, at the top of her voice, WHILST she is cycling… that is a quality I admire, and an activity I would happily participate in were I not afraid that opening my mouth and actually saying something during cycle glass would have me flopping off the bike in my best oxygen deprived goldfish impression.

Not only does she ride with us, but she amps her own bike up to extremes that I don’t ever expect to know. She goes twice as hard as anyone else in the room, and then a little bit further. Then she waves her arms in the air and belts out “Oh-Oh SWEET CHILD O MINE!!!!!” (note the exclamation marks) as if to say, “yeh, I could do more… but I would want to intimidate you all.” (failed at that one sweetheart!)

And it’s not only her singing that gets me… but she sounds like she’s talking in all caps ALL THE TIME, and that every sentence would need to be punctuated by an exclamation mark or ten, were it being transcribed for say… a blog post…



*jumping off her bike and turning the tension knob on one of the front row cyclists until the poor girl looks like she’s ploughing her feet through rapid set concrete*


*fifteen heads swivel left to right, fifteen hands inch their dial slightly tighter (ok, fourteen hands inch their dial tighter, one hand *coughminecough* pretends to turn it up)

“FEEL THAT SADDLE BETWEEN YOUR LEGS, FRIDAY!!!!!!!” – ok, this one is not only a perfect example of the All Caps (go on, scream it out… are you at work? Scream it louder!!!) but it is also my favourite quote of the day, and one that I would love to have the opportunity to use… like say I visited an equestrian track… or Melbourne Cup Day meeting… I suppose I could just belt it out in the middle of the shopping centre… no one would notice… right??

So here’s where the love comes in…  On some levels she is kinda similar to me, but there is one massive and undeniable difference between us….

She is a fridge dwelling snickers… I am yet to achieve that perfect balance of nuttiness and coolness… my snickeriness is more like the melty type you get in the bottom of the wrapper on a kinda hot day… you know, that bit that no one really wants, cos they’ve already had enough, you never get that with the fridge dwellers.

So thankyou Erina for showing me that one can be a nut, and be cool at the same time, thankyou for “Paradise City” and “Give me a Reason” and most of all thankyou because one day someone will say about me, “Man, I wish my butt looked like hers.”


~ by Alissa Anderton on November 5, 2010.

4 Responses to “My name is Friday….”

  1. Very funny…..
    I do have to say though……”your butt looks way better than hers” : P

  2. You had to know, anyone with my last name had to say something… eventually. Guess you have a new reader.

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