...Not the kind of wheel you fall asleep at...

Me & My Schwinn, BFF!

So I finally picked up my bike this weekend--a cute little rose-colored Schwinn Suburban with a detachable front-basket and a little *RANG RANG* type bell--and I'm so excited to start riding it places. I feel like I'm twelve-years old again or something: like, I keep going outside just to stare at it and think to myself, Yay! That's mine! And then yesterday, I decided to trek all the way up to the grocery store to pick up garbage bags that I could've gotten at the corner store just so I'd have an excuse to ride it.

It rides like butter. If butter rode.

Weirdly, one of the things I most look forward to regarding it is getting to roll my one pantleg up whenever I bike anywhere. For some reason, when I see people do that, it brings me inexplicable joy (the kind of inexplicable joy you get from, say, sucking up something REALLY loud into the vacuum). Yesterday, when I rode my bike, I actually switched into shorts first because I thought to myself, "No, Lindy Loo. You are not cyclist enough to venture into the one-rolled-leg world. You would be acting like a total poseur, seeing as you nearly fell off trying to get on your bike at the bike shop, that's how long it's been since you've ridden one." So I can't bring myself to do it until I've been biking to and from places for a little while. THEN: that sexy calf of mine will be flashing itself ALL over town.

Seriously though: there's something about the "one rolled pantleg" on a boy, leg hair all whisping out all over the place while he walks through the grocery store/bar/library/coffeeshop, that makes me want to crawl all up on him and ride him like a bicycle. Growr.



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