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Stopping short + not reaching ground = falling over.
2006-06-19, 2:55 p.m.

There is nothing not to like about this.

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New bike report: I really do love my new bike. Please enjoy that link. I went to the website to see if I could find my bike, and was confronted by a selection of about twenty-thirteen different categories of bikes. But where are the silver ones? I asked. Um, I have no idea which bike is mine.

But itís really pretty Ė silver! Ė and lightweight, and not too tall for me. I mean, I canít put both feetís toes on the ground while seated, but really, that was a big concern when I was in college, and I was navigating on sidewalks, around pedestrians and over curbs, and through curb-cuts and down handicap ramps, and around parked and moving cars. It was necessary to be able to bail out quickly before I (1) ran over an obliviously innocent bystander, or (2) ran into a parked car, both of which I did when I had a Schwinn that was just a wee bit too big for me, resulting in some spectacular and humiliating wipe-outs, and which I managed to avoid doing once I got a nice bike that fit me.

Stopping short + not reaching ground = falling over.

I even mastered the gear thing. At first, DW was trying to talk to me in terms of the big sprocket and the smaller sprocket, and down-shifting and higher gears, etc., and I had to just stop him. Which little lever do I click to make it easier to pedal, and which one do I click to make it harder? As long as I donít try to understand the sprockets, Iím fine.

Oh, my nice college bike got sold at a garage sale back in November for something sad like $15. But Olí Blue will ride again! Or will be broken down and sold for parts or scrap. Poor Olí Blue.

As for the professional bike fitting thing, for all you bike nerds? You take your smallest ladiesí bike, and crank the seat down as low as it will go. Thereís your professional fitting for me. You set it on ďshort leggedĒ. Thereís no need for a true professional fitting because there really arenít that many choices in my size.

I rode Friday afternoon, Saturday afternoon, took Sunday off because my legs were shaky and wobbly, plus my left buttock was on FIRE from bowling Saturday night, and then rode again this morning for about half an hour. I can tell Iím already building muscle, or at least my butt is swollen from pain and disuse, because these pants are tight in the butTOCK area.

I had forgotten about that, that particular feature of exercise that works on my ass. My ass starts to pick itself up from the backs of knees, and positions itself back up below my back where it belongs. It probably takes up less room overall in the biosphere, but takes up more room in my pants. Itís Pants vs. Biosphere. Biosphere, you win.

****

Laura Fleaís celebrity product endorsements:

Philosophy Acne Kit: seems to still be working very well. My back-ne is cleared up, and I thank the hydrogen peroxide formula for that. I also thank the hydrogen peroxide formula for bleaching my eyebrows out to a brassy orangey green, too. The warning labels says to avoid contact with hair, eyebrows and clothing, and they arenít kidding about that.

I have found that although the quantities are rather small for all the products, they are also long-lasting. With the exception of the blemish serum, which, of course, is going to be the one that makes all the other things work, and is also the most expensive when you buy these things separately, but Iím not taking any chances. I just ordered another precious ounce of blemish serum.

Figlioís Pizza: I had a hankering for a beer at the most rundown, smelly, and weird little isolated bar in Texas, and beforehand, we ventured to a pizza/pasta place in the neighborhood around the corner, but light years away in atmosphere.

My friends, the dissonance between Bracken Village and the Hanginí Tree Saloon notwithstanding, Figlioís Pizza is TO DIE FOR. I had the calzone with sausage, and DW had a penne pasta dish with sausage and spinach. My dinner was YOOGEÖI ate a quarter of it, we ate on it all weekend, and thereís still some left in the fridge.

They donít have a liquor license, but were kind enough to GIVE me a small glass of red wine. You know, in Texas, if you donít have a liquor license, you canít sell it but you can give it away. I guess. Or I suppose you can if you donít get caught.

If you are anywhere in the San Antonio/Austin corridor, this place is worth the trip.

Flexitol Heal Balm. Iím using this Ė itís not lotion, itís more like an ointment or even an unguent - on my feet every morning. No, Iím not the foot model for the before picture, nor have I any need for diabetic foot care, but I hate looking down at my feet during the day and seeing dry heels. This stuff keeps my feet looking moist and delicious all day, and my feet arenít sweaty or slippery AT ALL.

Thereís something magical in there that makes your feet a bit unslippery, in fact. Chalk? Clay? It doesnít smell like much, but it doesnít smell bad, either. Wouldnít it be fabulous if these folks made a Flexitol with like some peppermint oil in it? That would really feel good, but I guess if youíre crafty, you can do that yourself. And when youíre in the business of providing diabetic foot care, you donít have time for no stinkiní peppermint oil.

****

We dropped Lil Guy off at Boy Scout camp yesterday, and do you know how you say goodbye to a 13-year-old boy in front of his friends without humiliating him? You holler ďSmell ya later!,Ē you let the child and his stepfather engage in a game of ďwho can get the last punch inĒ (LG won after several round because heís lighter on his feet and made a quick getaway), and you just get in your car and leave.

His dad is going to pick him up at the end of camp on Saturday, and he will indeed be smelling LG later. After a week of camping outside and letting a swim suffice as a shower, and generally ignoring any kind of hygiene for a week, that kid will be RIPE.

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