I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my biiiike.

On Friday my new bicycle arrived, straight from the lovely folks at Woot.com (where Ryan wastes much of his time). When the mailman dropped it off at our front door in the most gigantic box in the history of the world, I dragged it inside and waited anxiously for Ryan to come home and put it together (because let's get real...I'm not allowed to open things like this, because it's highly likely I'd lose a screw or something while trying unsuccessfully to assemble the thing). Late Friday night, he finally came home and we unboxed this beauty and we built her into a bicycle (I use we very broadly here...what I mean is that Ryan built my bicycle while I talked to the dogs through one of the metal tubes I was supposed to be holding, because it made my voice sound funny). 

The tires were flat when they arrived and Ryan was at work all day Saturday, but I was so excited that I may or may not have attempted to ride my flat-tired bike across the living room. When Sunday afternoon finally arrived, we took our bikes out for a spin and even though the weather wasn't the friendliest, it was a lovely first bicycle date. I felt like a lady straight out of a 1950s teen movie, cruising along on my fixie.

I think we're off to a good start, bicycle and I. This could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.