[center][h2][color=#FA8746]Valeria Nicole Alvarez-Knight[/color][/h2][/center][hr][center] Brooklyn College library -> Home -> Central Park AA meeting location [/center][hr]
As I checked my black rubber band watch, I realized I would have to leave the campus library soon. I looked over my notes one last time, admiring the slanting cursive of my penmanship, the blue-inked pages inter-spread by a colourful title or occasional underlining here and there. Yeah, I was one of those people who still made hand-written notes, but I think I was much better off compared to the crazy dedicated ones who took the time to make sure [i]all[/i] their notes were neat, writing them in block letters. Block letters! You might as well do everything in Word. 

I closed my notebook, it was one of those leaf binder styles, cheap but pretty. I stashed it and all my other things into a light olive-green backpack with a pattern of dark-leaves-and-flowers. I headed outside and had to squint as the natural winter light made my eyes water. It was only mid-afternoon. I would have usually stayed studying well into the evening. But today, I had to leave early not because of the shorter opening hours on Fridays and weekends, but because I had my first AA meeting scheduled all the way up in Central Park. If I told people it was actually meant for superpowered people, they’d put me into the madhouse straight away, so if I had to say anything at all, I’d say it was a therapy group. Those that know me well would just nod knowingly, might even comment how good it was of me trying to get a handle on my anger issues. Yeah, I’d get pissed at ‘em for it. Goes to show how right they are, I [i]guess[/i]. I took a deep inhale and thought about how [i]nice[/i] it was to be in a [i]good mood[/i]. I usually am when I get to focus on a task. So, there was absolutely [i]no reason[/i] to get irritated, especially not for something so simple as a passing thought. I kept chanting [color=#FA8746][i]No reason for irritation, good mood, nice crisp winter weather, good mood, no anger[/i][/color] at myself, but could feel my facial muscles doing their best to terrify the poor passers-by with the whole gargoyle impersonation schtick they were trying to pull off.

By the time I reached and unlocked my bike – a nice black-and-white road bike I could ride year-round excepting cases of black ice or too deep snow – I had to press myself not to start growling. The 15 to 20 minutes of furious pedalling towards my rental apartment room managed to cool me down, both figuratively and literally. I felt my lungs starting to freeze and had to mentally brace myself for the upcoming the hour-long ride I would have to make to Central Park, and another to get back home. I shivered thinking about it, even though my body had warmed up some due to the exercise, locked up my bike, and entered the common room of our apartment. Someone, Reggie at least, must have recently been there, because I saw some left-over Mexican food. I heated it up, not feeling like a thief – we had a sort of an arrangement; everyone contributed whatever they could for the co-residents, and we all ended up better for it. It was real nice but not a thing you saw nearly enough. Rare, even. Especially with people having to move out. I knew of cases around here where people had been evicted for no reason other than bigoted jerks existing. I suddenly felt the urge to bash someone’s head in. The best alternative I had right then was digging into my food with more force than was strictly necessary.

After my meal, I quickly showered, put on my long black athletic pants, a white-striped dark blue long-sleeved shirt, a hoodie with a multi-coloured vibrant tiger print, and my usual camo winter coat last. For the cold, I also added a dark grey woollen beanie and scarf, black faux-leather gloves, and one of those black-brown winter sneakers. Then I emptied my backpack of anything but the necessities and took my bike on an 11-mile long ride. Yeah, I guess some people would call me crazy. My lungs certainly thought I was, but I ignored the protests. Some minutes short of an hour later, I arrived at Central Park. When I locked my bike to the rack, I saw someone else had chosen the same method of transportation. I immediately felt a kinship with whoever had done so. I decided then and there I would do my best to find the fellow cyclist and at least exchange names, if not get on friendly terms with them. Adrenaline-fueled and surprisingly hopeful, I entered the building right after a blonde male. Seeing as most of the chairs were filled already, I was one of the last ones to arrive. Beside Dr. Slate, whom I’d Googled, I recognized no-one on sight.
 
There was a lady standing a bit apart from the other, seemingly yet undecided if or where she’d sit. She was well dressed, had a really nice coat, and the snack area was a bit crowded, so I approached her. The long and brown-haired female was maybe 2 or 3 inches shorter than me naturally, but her heels made us pretty much even. She was so preoccupied I wasn’t sure she’d even notice me. Even so, I introduced myself. [color=#FA8746]“Hey there, I’m new here. Name’s Valeria. How about you?”[/color]

I didn’t feel like staring at her all the while, even though she was good-looking, so I checked out the others. Two other females were dressed rather nice, and I eyed both appreciatively. Hey, I know this ain’t a dating meet-up, but what else are you supposed to get from appearance only if not attractiveness? The only male worth noting based on a quick glance was the blonde, maybe. The rest were a ginger, a holiday enthusiast, and…a rapper-wannabe? I wasn’t sure what else to think what with all the jewelry. If it were me I’d probably manage to dip a chain in soup or smack someone accidentally, so I had to wonder how worth the style was for all the inconvenience it brought. I blinked my eyes to stop the rambling train of thoughts and politely refocused on the woman I’d chosen to stand next to.