Look at how happy I am – ignore that it was a put-on smile, flashed between barking photo-taking directions at hubby and trying not to have a head-on collision with a garage door – but yes, HAPPY! Did I know then, though, that my love-affair with two wheels would be so fleeting? Serves me right for being trusting. Oh, no one would ever come through our back yard and into our garage to steal our bikes in TORONTO. Never. But yes, of course they would. And of course they did.
Alex and I had our babies stolen this weekend. And while my bike was bought for practical no-fuss, gettin'-around reasons, and not lust-at-first-sight like my current crush, I became quite attached to the old girl. She didn't fail me. Not once. Except that she went and got herself stolen. Girl, didn't I teach you to be wary of strangers?! Deaf ears, man. Sadly, a salesperson with atrocious handwriting is the reason that I will never see her again – a completely illegible serial number is no use for the police report. She's gone.
While I mourn and eat ice cream in my favourite sweats (the appropriate reaction to any break-up, yeah?), a girl's gotta move on at some point.
The time is now.
I'm at the acceptance stage already, I think. A girl with a penchant for dramatics has a lot of history with (self-inflicted) grief. Man, I just roll through the 5 levels now, and I don't even think I stop on denial anymore. Express train.
Bright side? It's an opportunity to get a bike that's maybe more "me". I picked a Norco hybrid for budget/practicality, but I'm not really doing much in the way of serious cycling, so I can afford to play the style-over-function card. I'll bike to the moon (the moon!), but I'm not racing. I just need something pretty that can handle a 50-minute round-trip commute. Something light, so I don't almost die when carrying it. Something that puts the whoosh back into my life. I fall in love easily, so that part won't be hard. But as hubby says, my eyes are bigger than my wallet. So is my heart. And my wanderlust. And my bucket list. Sigh.
I used to think being simultaneously broke and in love was impossibly romantic. Kinda over it.
The Mister has back-up wheels secured, so because he thinks I'm meow (and wants an end to the pouting) he's helping me with my own search. It resulted in a Craigslist-related fight after I vetoed 600 of his picks. It's not my fault though!!! On my way home, I was wooed by Mikey, an adorable sales-creature at Curbside Cycle and this:
I very nearly swooned when I perched atop this minty baby. Sex. Just sex. But oh, $650. Hrmm. Not crazy-expensive in nice-bike world. But nuts when you're trying to be a good girl on a budget and you had a perfectly good bike just 4 short days ago. Dolla-dolla-billz, y'all. I could find ways to justify it then heap it onto credit with an audible gulp. I'm a master at justifying my terrible choices. A fucking Jedi.
In the meantime, let's engage in a little self-torture, shall we? Bike porn, baby:
From top: 1) Bobbin Birdie 2) Abici Primavera 3) Bobbin Firefly 4) Public Bikes 5) Public Bikes
Check out more here, on my Pinterest board!