back to training wheels

So the other day I was riding my bicycle and got hit by a bus.

Ok, not really.  (Did you believe me anyway?)

I actually was mugged and then beaten with a baseball bat.

No?

Fine.  I was riding my bike and I fell off.  Happy?

On Monday I was feeling rather sloth-ish from all the cruise indulgence, so Scot and I went to "'da 'Wal" and I got a shiny new hot pink bicycle and snazzy pink helmet so that I could ride with him.  I ended up actually getting a girls size bike (NOT that little kid ones, come on now), but mine is 2" shorter than the women's size.  I have short legs, you see.  So anyway, we get some, he dragged his bike out of the shed, and we had a lovely afternoon riding around town and hopefully burned lots and lots of cruise calories!

So, 3 days later, while he was at work, I decided to take my bike out by myself and do a few laps down one of the main roads and back to the house.  First lap went fine, it only took me about 20 minutes.  I decided to do another and when I was approaching a side street, a van screeched to a halt in converging with me at the stop sign, noticing almost too late I was fixing to pedal in front of her if she rolled through it.  I swerved a bit, crossed my right-of-way, and went on.  

Know something?  Bikes would be a whole lot safer if they had rear-view mirrors.  That way, when a girl would glance back behind her to check for traffic, she wouldn't run herself off the sidewalk, her new bicycle wouldn't skid out from under her, and she wouldn't find herself on the side of the road underneath a set of twisted up handlebars, gears, and tires.

Owwww.

I got up and tried to roll the bike forward to get going again.  Front tire wouldn't move, and the chain had slipped off.  I ached all over and there was no way in hell I wanted to carry this thing all the way back home!  I went up to the nearest house, rang the bell, and was eventually assisted by a little old Puerto Rican man who had a Craftsman tool box.  We straightened up my brake pads (that's why my wheel was stuck) and put the chain back on, and -after muchos apologies on my part- I was on my way.  

I noticed when I got back home and cleaned up that I have 5 new bruises but only a small scrape.  The biggest issue was the shock my muscles took in the tumble.  I went to work the next day hobbling around, unable to sit like a usually do with a leg folded up underneath my butt because of the bruises.  I definitely look like I took a beating!  Anyway, the injuries haven't led me to be getting much sleep because I normally fall asleep on my stomach or side, and both of those positions are just too uncomfortable with my legs all destroyed now so I've been really groggy at work.  Of course, the soreness doesn't help at all.  I was getting ready for work this morning and didn't realize until after I got to the airport that I'd put eye shadow and mascara on my right eye but not my left.  This is how tired I am!  Fantastic.  Washed it off in the ladies room and somehow zombied through the rest of the day.  Thank goodness tomorrow is my last day before my day off, because I need it!  

Epilogue: I am no longer allowed to ride my bike solo.  Fine by me, I scowl at it anytime I go into the garage now anyway.  I'll be back for you, Pinky....juuuuuust you wait.  We're gonna get us an extra-wide trail and then I'll ride you til you BEG me to put you back in the car and take you home.  With supervision, of course.

it's a "because-we-feel-like-it-moon!"

We just got back from our week-long cruise to the western Caribbean on Sunday.  This is our third trip, and although each time is a blast, it's just not nearly long enough!  We'd done this trip before- it was the first one Scot took me on, as a surprise vacation after we'd been dating only like 3 months.  It includes Royal Caribbean's private port in Labadee, Haiti, then Falmouth, Jamaica (or, as the Georgia woman behind us in line called it "Fowl-mowth"), Georgetown, Grand Cayman (we'd move here, but auto fuel is $9 a LITER and we paid $27 for a burger and a beer!), and finally Cozumel, Mexico.

He splurged this time and got us a suite room, which, in cruise ship terms, is the size of your standard hotel room.  However, I was glad to have the balcony space again, and hey- no "shower pod!"  We had a real bathtub instead, and a bathroom that was NOT smaller than our hall closet this time.

We enjoyed lots of champagne and cocktails and amazing food- our Sept 2nd departure was actually the debut sailing for the newly redesigned menu so it was very surprising!  We did a lot of laying around- on the beach, by the pool, on the balcony- as well as enjoyed onshore excursions to visit Good Hope Estate in Jamaica, swimming with dolphins and sting rays in Grand Cayman, and participating in the Amazing Cozumel Race in Mexico.  I looooooooved the Amazing Race- it's like the TV show in that we were all in teams and had to solve for clues and complete tasks at all these different locations around downtown Cozumel, racing around the city by foot.  Scot and I ended up finishing second (we got lost on our way to the final destination!) and it calculated out to be about 4.5 miles we ran around...in flip flops.  Neither one of us could move very much the next day.  But our silver medals were totally worth it.

Now for the awkward part of the trip...which seemed to pop into random conversation with anyone we spoke to EVERY SINGLE DAY.  The elephant in the room, so to speak.  The topic which has never even been brought up at our house, never offered on to the table for possible discussion, never even joked about except by our friends to us...it came in two forms on this trip, no fewer than 6 times- "So, are you guys on your honeymoon?" and "How long have you two been married?"  (also in the form of "Oh you two would be GREAT on the Love And Marriage Game Show! [one of RC's special night audience-participation shows]") 

Um.

"No, just vacation"  and "We're not..."

Now, that's fine...once.  Twice even.  Haha, let's share a laugh.  But every day?  It's a taboo subject in our house, I suppose.  A taboo subject in our entire relationship.  2 and a half years together isn't a long time, is it?  The "L-word" is used all the time, but the "M-word?"  No way.  I'M sure as hell ain't gonna bring it up, I'm too big of a chicken.  He tells me all the time I have nothing to worry about, I mean- I'm not afraid I'm going to get kicked out of the house, we get along swimmingly, and everyone is happy.  I certainly don't feel a burning need to get knocked up (which would require immediate conversation of the "M-word!") so we'll have to come up with a more clever response to these innocent remarks I'm sure we'll hear again next year.

Anyway, tangent over LOL- enjoy some pictures of our trip