My mountain bike saga continues. Since I had the bike tuned-up and had adjustments made (including the purchase of new tubes and tires) I've gotten three, count 'em, THREE flat tires. Yesterday I decided on a ten mile ride, and at the turning point contemplated another 2-4 miles. Thank goodness I came home, because about 1.5 miles away from home the front tire AGAIN went flat. I fumed the entire way home, then started to get emotional (withdrawal), then tried not to cry when I called the bike shop to ask them what the hell the problem could be. Obviously replacing the tube wasn't going to do any good. The phone call reminded me of Miranda's tearful conversation with the TiVo representatives on SATC.

So after having the tire fixed yet again, I went home to relax, finish "Wives and Daughters," and eat some very nasty vegetable stir-fry for dinner. Maybe I don't want my taste to improve after all. The book, however, was wonderful. It took me about 20 chapters to really start to enjoy it, and enjoy it I did. Of course, while I do realize Gaskell died before she could complete the novel, I had sort of forgotten about that and was a little pissy at the end, though I'm sure she probably would have wrapped it up in a chapter or two. Still, I like closure (and yet I hate the word). On to Wharton.

A note on my New And Improved Non-Smoker Smell: This body splash that I bought last week from Bath and Body Works no longer smells like sweet summer fruit. It sorta smells like Raid.

So, after finishing the book last night I had to start moving again because I'm still feeling extremely restless, so I took the dogs on another two-mile jaunt. By the time I showered and went to bed my legs were twitchy and exhausted.

Then this morning I got on the scale and am extremely pissed off. I've gained 6 pounds since I came back from Hawaii, and I'm not happy. I usually lose weight during the summer, not gain, and I've only stopped smoking four days ago so I know that isn't the problem. So of course this morning I decided to be a Food Nazi, packed breakfast and lunch, and proceeded to leave them both at home when I left for work in the morning. Resigned to a fast food salad for lunch, I came to the office to find fresh bagels, cream cheese, and donuts as soon as I stepped off the elevator (forgot to take the stairs). So damn my good intentions to hell. It just doesn't work.

Plan on riding the twenty-mile route tomorrow morning. If I get another flat tire, so help me, I'm throwing a brick through the window of that stupid bike shop.

And on another note, I talked to Big Jeff last night. We had an actual talk because he wanted to know why I haven't been returning his calls or following through with plans that we make. I was brutally honest, he was a bit hurt, and he suggested that he and I go away somewhere next weekend. I laughed (as in the yeah, it'll never happen), he was annoyed, then I suggested that we try to spend, oh, a couple of hours together first as I don't think an entire weekend would be wise. Who knows? Maybe we'll discover that we can't even have a conversation, and that we don't even like eachother. But this puts me in another awkward situation. Things are starting to get too complicated, and I'm not the type of person who usually dates more than one person at a time.

I couldn't even think about it anymore last night. It just made me want to smoke. And this Raid smell is now starting to make me sick.

Off to work.