The truth hurts

I got a funny phone call last night.

This guy I know who is more of a friendly acquaintance than an actual friend rang up to ask me a question.

He wanted to know if I was the girl on a bike who waved and shouted "hi" at him on Howard Street a few weeks ago.

I had to answer in the affirmative, because, the truth is, it WAS me.

I didn't want to admit it because I have long suspected I look like kind of a dork when I'm riding my bike. I have this giant helmet, a scarf around my neck, Nicole Richie-esque sunglasses and a big puffy white coat. These are all safety features and not meant to be stylish.

My friend said he didn't recognize me and it took him awhile to realize it was my voice he had heard.

Then he confirmed my fear of appearing geekish by telling me the spectacle I presented looked like something out of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

I had to get off the phone because Lost was starting.

But from now on, if I see someone I know while decked out like the female version of Dick Van Dyke, I will put my head down and keep going.

Until later, love and kisses, xoxoxoxo