"What do you mean it's 7am?!"

That's what I said to myself this morning after wrestling with the alarm clock since 6. My apologies to Baby G for my being one of those people.* We had a busy weekend, so it's really no wonder I had trouble getting up. We scored free tix to the Texas Wine & Food Festival Friday night and ate our weights of some really good gourmet and some kinda meh gourmet. I also sampled all the wine, vodka and rum that I could. I had some very bizarre dreams that night, as you can probably imagine. Best sample? Definitely the Dallas Fish Market's Hawaiian Escarole Sashimi with lemon glaze and capers. Holy gods that was heaven in my mouth! And the chef was a very nice guy, too!

Baby G and I also biked a lot. We probably rode about 8 miles total over two days. I take that back, I did about 8 miles, Baby G did more, as she went out a 2nd time yesterday evening. I was still sore from Saturday's ride.

I'm currently listening to "The Weekend (Extended Vocal Mix)" by Michael Gray. It's some of the gayest music I've ever heard, but I can't stop shakin' my booty. Funny side story: I knew a guy in college named Michael Gray. He was an adorable gay man who wouldn't acknowledge he was in fact gay. I hope he's out and proud now.

*Yes, I'm one of those assholes who sets my alarm to ring an hour ahead of time, so I have time to "wake up" before I actually have to get up. It doesn't work yet I still do it, hence my status as "asshole."

It's been one week since you looked at me...

My bicycle accident wounds are healing nicely. The one on my wrist is still a bit of a pain, but it's improved greatly over the past seven days. My chin is no longer discolored but it is still tender to the touch. Now I feel more like a teenager with an unfortunate blemish, not a biker bar brawl victim.

Baby G, on the other hand, is still recovering from her bike accident on Monday night. (Yes, we do everything together, even fall off bicycles. Muskrat love...not!) She was a bit more hardcore than me, her wounds required 11 stitches. She'll be okay, though!

It's just a flesh wound, really

And now for a post-bicycle accident update: the gash on my left palm finally formed a scab and only hurts if something touches it. It's currently bandaged and swimming in Neosporin.

Yes, I offended little lambs and Baby Jesuses everywhere yesterday morning when a stream of colorful expletives left my mouth, but you'd cry too if a nurse poured peroxide on the exposed surface of your epidermis. Wait, make that your raw dermis (see image, right).

My chin is no longer black, it's now a purpley-bluish hue. The lady at the grocery store gave me a funny look... guess she thought my boyfriend beat me up or something. If she only knew... Anyhoo, it doesn't ache so much today and the swelling has gone down a bit. Should be good as new in a week or so. I hope to stop wearing this wacky hand bandage soon. It's itchy.

I did seriously consider kicking the bicycle that felled me yesterday; however, seeing as how my luck is low right now I thought better of it and merely walked around it. (Someone leaned it by a bush behind the library. It leers at me as I go to and from the office.) Yes, I will definitely get back on a bike again, but I don't know if I'll risk one of the bikes from work. They're so crappy.