The dangers of cycling

Yesterday afternoon, my most excellent housemates, the Blackcurrants, took me out cycling for the first time in public. Yes, I like RPM and yes they forced me to watch the Tour de France last year...but neither of these things prepared me for the bumtingling excitement of being out on the open road. Okay, it was only the three and a bit k's to Subi, but it was an adventure. And halfway there I had 'relations' with the bike: ie the saddle went up my bum when I stacked into the fence separating the shared path from the electrified train tracks below. I was laughing so hard I had trouble articulating that I was, actually, alright.
We had tea at Churros in Subi (god how I yearned for beer) and then rode back, again with incident, as Matt bumped and scraped most of his shin off mere metres from home.

We made a funny saladbowl of a family as we settled down to a cous cous dinner and to watch the Usual Suspect. And boy did I sleep well afterwards.

M emailed me today, suggesting that he hadn't quite grasped the finality of what we discussed on Thursday. He asked if I would still be going to meet his parents in July, and going to Croatia? I paused for a long time, hands hovering over the keyboard because I knew that this was the big step. Telling his parents I had left was the full stop. I hit send, hoping I wasn't being too hurtful, and he has written back since, everyday things like what the hell we're going to do with the cat... but it would seem that both of us are going to be ok.

Oh and yesterday when i called Mum, I got to speak not only to her, but my gorgeous Grandmother, who regaled me with tales of how naughty-yet-irresistible Pista is, and to dear Cuni. I can't wait to see them all in July. Which reminds me: must see about Rancid tickets too...

There is always light somewhere