letters to my life.

Dear work, you were pretty hard on me last week.  I hope you cool your jets this week, for literal crying out loud.

Dear bachelorette party, you were so much fun on Saturday.  But apparently wearing a slip under my dress and going home at 7:30 makes me old?  I guess I’m cool with that.

Dear driver in the red car this morning,  I’m sorry for accidentally flashing you my upper thigh on the street earlier.  I don’t know when I’ll learn my lesson that skirts + biking don’t mix.

Dear kale, get out of my teeth gap.  I felt you settle in there 30 mins ago and you’ve now overstayed your welcome. Work with me here.

Dear new gym, we’re thinking of trying you out tonight.  Although the thought is nauseating, since I haven’t hung out with the likes of you in months…

Dear Minneapolis, I miss you.

Dear parents, I love you but don’t get your hopes up after that last one.

Dear wine, is it appropriate to drink you after the gym tonight?  Let’s discuss.

Dear bug bite on my cheek that I thought was a zit, I’m really sorry that I messed with you yesterday.  I made an assumption about you and that was wrong of me.  I can see that you’re getting back at me now by tripling in size and itchiness.   Thanks for that.

Dear kale again, we did it!

Dear work elevator, this was highly appropriate today:

Dear blog readers, hello I love you goodbye.

P.S. Letters to my life Volumes 1 and 2.

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spill.

So yesterday I started writing a post about how I got a new bike last weekend and I’d started riding it to work this week and it’s been so exciting and environmentally friendly and EXERCISE! and wind in my hair, blah blah blah.  But now, I have a different story to tell about my new bike – because I have since fell off of it.  To make a short story shorter, last night on my way home from work I caught my wheel in a streetcar track and face-planted onto the asphalt.  Or I guess more like side-planted.  It all happened so fast that I’m not entirely certain of the details, but I do know that my tire slipped and I fell in between two parked cars and when I opened my eyes, there was an extremely friendly Asian man who didn’t speak English that was helping me up.

I basically just hightailed it out of there out of pure shock and mortification.  But about halfway home I started to feel the aches and pains of my spillage.  Nothing major, just a big ol’ scrape on the elbow, numerous colorful bruises and tons of sore spots.  Casey fixed me up like a champ.  He cleaned out the elbow, bandaged me up and fed me wine.  Good guy, he is.  But the fall did scare the bajeezus out of me.  I’ve replayed it in my head with a million other outcomes… what if I had fallen the other way into the street and there was a car coming?  what if I hadn’t been wearing my helmet?  what if I would have ripped my favorite jeans?  You know, all the scary things.  All things considered, I feel pretty lucky.  But I also feel pretty stupid that it happened at all.

I totally contemplated driving to work today, especially because I really am so sore.   But then I figured I should suck it up and not be such a baby.   So I hopped back on the bike and at speeds of 1.3 mph, made my way downtown.  Watch out!

Honestly though, I didn’t see this coming.  I thought that the first fall I would have would be caused by my attire.  Which is not as ridiculous as it may sound… if you don’t believe me, please refer to the outfit I wore when test-biking bikes over the weekend.

Seriously, who wears a long skirt when picking out a bike??   ^^ This guy! ^^  That’s who.

It’s honestly a toss-up as to what’s more uncomfortable: wiping out while biking in jeans and rain coat, or getting fitted for a bike when you’re wearing a long skirt (AKA skirt hiked up to nether regions while straddling a bike in front of a total stranger).   I guess I’d say the fall is the worser of the two, purely because of the residual war-wounds.  And it’s probably fair to say that the bike shop worker was more weirded out by our interaction than I was.

The takeaway here is: helmets!  And maybe bike shorts.