sorry about the delay in posting--there's been lots happening, and therefore so much to tell, but unfortunately also so little time to tell. since there's so much to say, and since a picture is worth a thousand words, it stands to reason that the most efficient method of catching up is with a lot pictures. because otherwise these posts would be even longer(!).
so, let's see here. when we left our story (forgetting kim's...incident), aaron was in town. we had a great time, and i think aaron will probably back me up when i say that you should come visit us, too--it's good times. so aaron went home, and kim and i went back to our normal lives. and that's where our story begins...
some morning shortly after aaron left, i decided after waking up around 5:30 (which i usually do) that i would go for a bike ride. this is something that i've been wanting to make a regular part of my summer since about the fifth snowstorm of our crappy winter, and all winter i dreamt of how amazing it would be while stumbling through the snow. i imagined myself waking up every morning, going on long epic bike rides, and really enjoying starting my day with vigorous exercise, breathtaking views of the lake, and probably insightful thoughts or beautiful poetry written while sitting on a rock by the lake. in search of all of this excitement and more, this particular morning i rode down to the 57th street beach, and i got off the trail, walked around, and enjoyed the feel of sand on my feet. aaaaah, what a relaxing, great start to a lovely summer day.
as i sat on the beach, however, a menacing, foreboding wind stirred up over the lake and blew onshore (FORESHADOWING!!!). i sat it out (still waiting for my early morning, lakeside epiphany), but eventually i got tired of picking sand out of my eyes, so i decided to head home. the ride home was really nice, because the wind was at my back--i was going fast, enjoying life, and feeling like nothing could possibly be wrong in the world. but (FORESHADOWING) i was wrong. i approached the 18th street bridge and began the difficult climb to the top, digging in and probably imagining that i was winning the tour de france (i often imagine myself winning competitions during mundane parts of the day. throwing paper in the trash can: "3...2...jeremy shoots...1...HE SCORES!!! JEREMY WINS!!!" or while speedwalking to cross the street before the light changes: "and it's jeremy by a nose!!!". or while buttering my toast:"ladies and gentlemen, i think we may have just witnessed the first ever perfect butter/toast application. we await the score from the judges...6.0, 6.0, 6.0, 6.0, and from japan...6.0!!! jeremy has done it!!! the gold medal in the toast competition goes to jeremy and the united states!!! it's the miracle on wheat!!!" but i digress). so i crested the epic incline at the bridge, and did that thing that riders do when they win the tour de france. you know, they sit back, hands off the handlebars, and soak in the glory of their accomplishment. and i was so basking when the aforementioned wind decided that it was finished doing me favors for the day, and it was payback time. the wheels went sideways, i quickly grabbed my handlebars, there was a general sprawling and frantic scramble and spectacle (and i swear just as i was going over the front of my bike i thought of this) and i ended flattened, breathless, and unwilling to move, and unnaturally intimate with the pavement. i said "ooooh, oooooh, oooooh" for awhile, and finally i decided i'd rather not be run over, so i dragged myself to the corner. when i got home, here was the damage:
well, and also there was this intense rib pain which has stuck with me since, making me look (feel) like an invalid while getting out of bed. i think i may have broken my rib, which is really painful and really slow to heal. the pain is so intense, i haven't been able to ride my bike since.
but at least i won the tour de france.