A month after the first successful night ride, I decided to get off my lazy, couch-sitting, cheese sandwich, cheese pizza eating (after I made a yummy grilled cheese sandwich, Patrick, who had decided that the perfectly good cheese in our refrigerator wasn't edible anymore, decided to order a pizza) butt and take my bike out for another moonlit ride. My brother-in-law just gave me a very cool shiny reflective vest, so I put that on over my raggedy outfit (old dark gray capri length Old Navy sweats, a white tank top with a brown, slightly bleached t-shirt from the Gap over it, Converse, no socks - believe me when I say I was stunning), donned my helmet, pumped up my tires, switched on my lights, and headed out.
It was a gorgeous night again in Long Beach. Last time my neighborhood smelled like fabric softener; tonight it smelled like spaghetti. It was a bit too hot during the day today (the high was 86 in LB, 88 in East LA where I work) but when the sun went down and that funny moon came up, it cooled off nicely. It's 69 right now in Long Beach. I forgot to charge my cell phone (again; it's been dead since Saturday) so I told Patrick I'd only be gone for about a half hour. After about 40 minutes, after seeing one car accident aftermath, one ambulance/fire truck combo at a neighbor's house, and smelling skunk (not on the block that smelled like spaghetti, obviously), I decided to come home. I didn't go very far or very fast but it was a nice ride, and a pretty night.
On Sunday, during the car ride with Bo after the show in Santa Monica, he commented that "the moon looks like the one the cow jumped over." It was almost the same moon tonight.
I suspect that the moon was made of cheese, too.
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