I spent the better half of the past two weeks transporting my self around town by any means other than Jetta. Jetta was spending some well deserved vacation time, housed in a garage, having her insides examined and receiving new organs as needed. I spent the majority of that time either begging rides off of e, or riding my bicycle from point a to point b. Let me tell you some thing about bicycles. There are a few different kinds; mountain, road, hybrid, commuter, to name a few. Giant is a sort of crossover, not purebred, but some mix of the above. I have had this lofty notion in my head for several months now that I will soon be trading in Giant for a SSS (sweet, sleek, sexy) Bianchi. Though we have never met, Bianchi and I will be good for each other. Sometimes a girl just knows these things.
And so I faithfully rode my Giant up and down the coastal highway two and three times a day, convincing myself that if I am "still riding this old thing!" (after a year?!), that probably means I will be the perfect candidate for Bianchi in the near future. (I can barely feel its weight as I sling the frame over my shoulder and climb the stairs to my apartment...)
Alas, I am brought back to reality as I lug Giant's deadweight up to the safety of our second-floor balcony.