So since the move, I’m now like…. I’m going to say approximately four hundred miles from where I need to be on any given day. I’m a horrible driver and I can’t see at night and the scooter is on its last leg of life.
So today I tried to ride a bike.
I also skinned my knee.
I know what you’re thinking, and yes those two facts are directly related. Apparently the phrase ‘it’s like riding a bike’ isn’t a phrase in reference to muscle memory at all. At least, not my muscle memory.
Probably didn’t help that I went back to the gym today after a very long hiatus and everything now hurts beyond reason. Peddling around my weight on an old heavy Schwinn apparently made of WHATEVER THE HEAVIEST METAL IS (osmium, tungsten, iridium, plutonium- I have no clue) sounds like a severe way to whoop my butt back into shape, but I guess I don’t have much choice. Must get around. Mustn’t pay for parking. Mustn’t get fat.
I wish I had a jet pack.
A few days ago someone told me that my last post was too negative. I do not agree, but I feel I should apologize. I was just REALLY bored on the drive out to the lake.
Conchas Lake, however, is a true gem. Desert lakes are some of the most beautiful and wonderful things on earth. They remind us what gratitude is and how endurance works. Great things, desert lakes. We had a great time and were with some awesomely fun folks. We got all busted up and sunburnt attempting to wakeboard and had cheeseburgers for breakfast every day. Perfect way to end my summer.
Now… what sort of ruckus can I rustle up for fall?
Driving to Conchas Lake, NM for a weekend reunion with the boyfriend’s high school friends seemed like an easy enough trip. Two hours east on I-40. Gotcha. But then once we got in the car and started driving I remembered why I usually head west on vacation. Eastern New Mexico looks like western Texas. Very long, hot, dry, and boring (no cell phone reception- the horror!). So we played an ‘I spy’ game. It went like this:
I’m going to the lake and I’m bringing…
Hand-crafted Native American gifts
Quite a bit of nothing
Very large amount of orange barrels
The ‘X’ in’ Texas