"Get a bicycle. You will not regret it, if you live." - Mark Twain

Monday was an exhausting day at work (though Head Doc did return from his trip, bearing Toblerones ... joy!). When I got home, I was starving. I started to make jambalaya - and promptly set a pot of oil on fire. Sound familiar?

Did I mention that I almost burned my condo down? Oh, yeah - while making tortillas I somehow managed to catch the pan on fire. Luckily, I had a pretty functional response (cursing and smothering the flames) rather than my usual spaz-out.

I was again able to smother the flames, but the smoke detector was going crazy. So I took the pan outside and removed the lid to let the smoke out. HUGE MISTAKE. Reunited with its long-lost love, oxygen, the fire roared back to life right in my face. I escaped with my eyebrows intact (more's the pity), but badly shaken. I decided to give up on dinner to keep my play date with Wistar.

I unlocked Killer from her cage the shed. That's right. Immediately after my near-death cooking experience, I thought it would be a jolly idea to get on my evil bicycle.

Sometimes, I wonder about myself. I really, really do.

On the bright side, I have come to the point in my life (decades ahead of my peers) that I don't worry about looking like a complete fool. I drove to the park to meet Wistar, and immediately strapped on my bike helmet and gloves. The children playing soccer and the young men with their dogs were highly amused.


My helmet looks like this ... only dorkier.

Wistar: *not amused* What are you wearing?
Me: Now now, Wistar. Safety first.
Wistar: I meant on your feet. Are those flip-flops?
Me: Well, my toesies like to breathe.

My poor footwear choices aside, we had a great lesson. I learned how to turn around! Next time, we may even leave the parking lot.