My boyfriend's back. He's got the truck, so now it's just me and the bicycle. Rather conveniently, it's supposed to rain consistently next week, but I'm a trooper. It won't faze me much if it's just drizzle. Slight drizzle is as good as refreshing as a tall glass of water and its variants. And if not, then oh well.
I love my bicycle. Although I had the option of four wheels for the past two weeks, outside of stocking up on toilet paper and cat litter I rode my bicycle where I needed to go. The temps have been in the mid-seventies with very low wind-resistance, so despite any early morning grogginess, every ride has been a great one.
In the last two weeks I've realized the strength of my legs, oddly having moved faster and with more strength than ever (perhaps a way of resisting the urge to be sedentary). I've also found that it took a lot less time to get where I needed to go by bicycle than by truck, and not once did I shell out one cent that I haven't already spent on parking. Of course every mode of transportation has its time, place, and benefit (I love taking the train when I can - Pacific Surfliner represent), but I'd be lying if I said it didn't please me to no end knowing that a hop, beeline, and snap of the lock at times meant a quicker arrival than a firing of the engine and incidental rock star parking.
West Hollywood wasn't always my home, but as far as I'm concerned, it is now and always will be. Still trying to find my place, here, within, and everywhere I roam. This blog explores that, personally, professionally, culturally, and everywhere in between.