Time to rethink the vending machine food.
I bought a Schwinn bike from Target during my 1L year.
I had no car, lived in the Gamma eta Gamma house in Dinkytown, and biking seemed like the collegy thing to do. $150 felt pricy… but I bought the bike and used it until winter came.
The bike came back out this summer and last week I biked over 100 miles. Most of the biking was to work, which is 15 miles out in the suburbs.
I also somehow managed to break the bike. A pedal snapped in half. The kick stand unscrewed halfway. The handlebar was bent. The seat hurt my butt.
It was a disaster.
So I went to Freewheel bike shop, which is by campus, under the shadow of the Stacks:
Dear Lake Calhoun/Minnesota weather/Sven Sundgaard and his form-fitting-dress pants:
If it’s going to be overcast, then I need it to be cooler and less humid.
Gertrude knew the vet visit wasn’t for her. She was just there to laugh.
I saw a huge photoshop fail while waiting in line at the grocery store today.
Whose body did they paste her on?
This is the, “Am I in trouble or what?” face.
I took this during Pride, but forgot to post it, which is a shame because she’s fabulous.
And, for additional randomness:
So the worst part is that the first version of this billboard featured a heavily made-up woman.
This blog needs a redesign. I have more unfinished laundry than a women’s penitentiary. My bike, rollerblades, and gym shoes feel neglected.
I am one check-in from becoming mayor of McDonald’s. (My love handles don’t lie.) My progress on my album is underwhelming. And, and and.
I finally bought a steamer and cleaned my rugs before moving them down to my new apartment. And oh my god, look at that filth!
The steamer has gotten a lot of use. My new apartment is carpeted, and my dog trainer told me that I have to re-potty train them because dogs don’t generalize well…so being house-broken in one apartment does not mean they are 100% house-broken in another apartment.
This makes the moving process…delightful.
Most of my furniture is in the new apartment but I still have clothes and hundreds of books to move downstairs. I’m slightly worried about leaving the dogs out with books because Harley has a taste for literature. We’ll see if Harley has grown out of his book-eating phase tomorrow.
We are still working on this whole “playing with tennis balls and not eating them” thing.
Just when I thought I hid the dog bones from them…