I'm an angry, sweaty girl, so
BITE ME
- Maggie Estep
*Attention: This page hasn't been updated in forever, and I'm too lazy to do the major-league updating that it needs. So please be advised that some of the information on this site is old and inaccurate. Thank you!* My name is Phuz. I'm 23 years old, and I live in Boston. I've never been a normal girl. In first grade when I tried to kiss the girls and take my shirt off in gym class like the boys, people knew I was not a normal girl. When I listened to my so-called friends whispering about me, thinking I was too stupid to know they were talking about me, I heard them say "She's not a normal girl." When I got to high school and started wearing all black, sulking around by myself talking about Satanism and murder, I knew I was not a normal girl. When I discovered the joys of freaky hair and clothes, I had finally accepted the fact that I was not a normal girl. And I liked it. And I've liked it ever since then. It should be fitting that a not-normal girl such as myself would choose a career that is so often associated with punks, freaks, rebels, and bad attitudes. Of course, not every bike messenger fits that description, but those stereotypes are what people of my ilk are notorious for.
Bike messengery can be either romanticized as a dangerous, sexy, uber-cool lifestyle, or it can be demonized as a low-class, dirty, unrespectable occupation. For me, it was always the former. Years ago, when I saw bike messengers effortlessly gliding down the street, dressed in slick duds, never would I have imagined in my wildest dreams that I would, or could, someday become one. Hell, I hadn't even ridden a bike since I was 15, and I probably never rode farther than the grocery store down the street. I never thought I would be strong enough, fast enough, smooth enough, or street-smart enough. But 2 summers ago, when I met a real live bike messenger and fell head over heels in lust (with the job more so than the individual), my interest in the profession quickly became more than prurient. I had aspirations, and now here I am, having made my dream come true. I'm an angry, sweaty bike messenger girl. Who would've known? Not even me.
I want to share with you, whoever you are, my story, my experiences, my feelings, my thoughts, my ideas, on the subject of my job, which is in many ways, more than just a job. (Cliché alert) I'll probably include a diary of some sort on this website, so look for weekly or monthly updates (I'm a bit of a procrastinator). And when I get the technology (and the pictures developed), I'd like to share the photos documenting my daily travels. Maybe if you're lucky, I'll sneak in a few pictures of me as well...
My Bike's Story
Becoming One
The Licensing Fiasco
Getting a Better Gig
Diary of # 177
Messenger Links
Completely Random Links
E-Mail Me
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