My personality is a personal expression of who I am. It should not be hampered by mere things like social constraints. Who is society to say that I should only have one? Multiple Personality Disorder isn’t a disorder, it is a lifestyle choice.

The church’s annual bike ride, hosted by my inlaws, was last Saturday. I think it was the most adventurous episode yet. That is to say, we left more flesh on the gravel, and walked more due to flat tires.

I believe I was the first to go down.  I was also the third. The first incedent was a mere, if I may use such a word, misjudgement of momentum, brake force, and center of gravity. I hit the brakes to hard while leaning too far forward. Fortuneately, once the bike had been removed from atop my person, I was fine, hardly scratched. I found my second crash, which put me with crash number three from the total, coming immediately, which is to say about 2 feet, behind the fellow we shall call crasher number two. He took air, landed sideways, and hit the deck. I took air, saw him, locked the brakes, landed on wheels that wouldn’t turn, and went over the handlebars again. I rode the next 18 miles with twin twisted wrists, multiple contusions, and a rasberry all up my right forearm.  I faired better than crasher number two, who was wearing shorts (I am vindicated!).

We got from there to the half way point without further incedent. We then turned around and began coming back. I was the official sweeper. That meant that no one was to pass me once I had turned around. Including all the young ladies who so earnestly wanted to make it all the way. The ones I met a mile into the return trip. I guess I’m soft. I turned around for them.

On the way back, with only 4  miles left out of 20 (which had, all said, become about 23 for me) when we came across one of the young ladies, walking alongside her bike with a busted bearing in the rear wheel. It took some doing, but I talked her into riding my bike the rest of the way. Then I assigned another responsible adult as a new “sweeper” to make sure everyone got back, and I started jogging.

This was the first year I didn’t finish the bike ride. I wimped out after running about 1/2 mile I made use of the two bars of reception on my cell phone, and asked to be beamed up. The next road crossing was another 1/2 mile, and I made that. But, it was still as good a time as ever. Maybe next year I will help supervise the little kids who are only riding 6 miles.

I merely wanted to change my blog theme. I wanted an updated, easier on the eyes theme that was more my personality. You know, the way I’ve been acting lately. Turns out I needed an upgrade. The whole blog-host system. Three hours later it is up and running, and it is beautiful. Well, the part I see is. There are lots of great new features.

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There is nothing quite like coming home. After forty hours on the road, three and a half days away, and an innumerable amount of coffee consumed, I am back eating dinner at my own table, sleeping in my own bed (granted with un-brushed teeth and my clothes still on), and holding my own baby, yes, while kissing his mother.

Jedediah and I went to Washing DC over the past weekend, to observe the marriage vows of our dear cousin, Abigail. We took, in tow, a co-worker of mine who is trying to get an Internship at Advent Film Group. We dropped him off for the weekend about an hour from our final destination, and picked him up on the way back. A good time was had by all. Each driver was able to stay awake sufficiently for his shift, and we were able to save a lot of money on gas by renting a Toyota Prius. The only problem with the car was that it was so small it would turn if you stuck your arm out the window.

Natalie and Nathan didn’t come because there was no way an infant would be able to make that brutal of a trip. We all missed each other greatly, and it is good to be back together again.