Sunday Cycling

I took my new bike out yesterday for a long ride and if ever there were an argument for a handlebar-mounted GPS it was yesterday as I tried to forge a path from the bike trail to the village of Torrent just outside of Valencia to the sea to the east. Even a map would have been a blessing as I pedaled around for three hours through village after village, one soulless industrial park after another, and crisscrossing dead-end rice fields. The good news is that with my new bike it feels like I have a motor. Were it not for the frustration of being lost I would have enjoyed every kilometer of the ride. Besides getting a great workout I did happen across this this XI century Arab tower and probably a 19th century church in the hamlet of Albal just outside of Valencia.

I doubt if a GPS would feature all of the little paths winding through the rice fields and orange groves in the Valencia Community nor would it show the bike trails. I am constantly amazed by the huge network of bike trails we have here in Valencia that branch out from the capital in every direction.

I finally found my way home after crossing a busy highway and climbing with my bike over a retaining wall. Sort of like Steve McQueen in The Great Escape except I escaped.

Careful Where You Click

I sat down at my computer this afternoon to eat a little something before I had to run out again. I thought that I had clicked on The Onion, I swear to god. I read the top headline story “All one big nightmare: Sleepover at grandparents’ ends in deadly fire” and I was trying to see the humor in it. I quickly moved down the page and read a couple more headlines, mostly about dumb-ass Republicans doing stupid shit which reinforced the idea that I was looking at The Onion. It took me a good minute before I realized that I was looking at the Washington Post. Their mastheads are similar. I was also eating which distracted me. The two are right next to each other in my bookmarks. An honest mistake and I'm really sorry that I laughed about the fire.

The War of Two Types of Laziness

I need a garage.

My new bike doesn’t fit in the elevator because of the bigger 700 X 28 wheels. It will fit but only if I take off the front wheel which begs the question: I am lazier mechanically (taking off the wheel) or physically (humping up to the fourth floor)?  On my first trip I took the stairs.

Cold and Bleak Jauary (at least for Valencia)

I know that talking about the weather is the last resort of the totally foolish but when your place doesn’t have heat it takes on a bit more seriousness. It’s so hard to get motivated to go outside and ride. Today, although sunny and not too cold, I will settle for a ride on my spinning bike—I have to get some use out of the damn thing. A ride outside is much better both physically and psychologically than anything I ca do inside but anything is better than nothing. So here is goes.

Love in the Time of Creepiness

or

WHEN “NO” MEANS “I’M GOING TO BEAT YOU TO WITHIN AN INCH OF YOUR MISERABLE LIFE

Baby, there ain't no restraining order ever been written that can keep me from loving you. That piece of paper signed by a judge just shows me how much you care, and it’s in writing, like a love letter. You're saying that my affection is so strong that it can project from 500 feet. I’m going to frame it.

Why you so shy, baby? It's just little old me. We met when I was cleaning out your septic tank, back before I got fired for poor grooming habits.

You can change your phone number; you can get a new job; you can even move to a new town. I love you too much to let little things come between us. To me it's all just a big game of sexy hide-n-seek. I actually like this new city where you live. I think it's going to be good for the both of us. Let’s call it a fresh start.

I didn't mean to scare you that first night I found you at your new apartment. When you pulled back the curtains and I was standing there outside, you really let out a scream. Surprise! I just wanted to show you how bad the security is in that new place. It was so easy for me to knock out the guard and get in the gate. You really need to be more careful. There are a lot of weirdos out there.

Is that mace or pepper spray? Either way, I love it when you play hard to get. When I broke into your car the other day I noticed you had a brochure for Taser guns. We can go shopping together. I'll have them write an inscription on the handle. I've already told you that you rock my world and now you want to shock me, too. Oh là lá!

Relax, sugar. I’m just trying to climb in your kitchen window to read the poem I wrote for you that expresses my devotion and my disturbing mental state. Stop hitting me in the head with that cast iron skillet or someone may get hurt. Now I can’t feel my legs but, ay yi yii, I felt that kick just above the legs. Don’t you want kids?