How is this even possible?

I'm sure that you all recall the unfortunate incident of July 4th---the one where I wanted to be independent, so I tried to ride my bike to Walmart but I popped a tire and had to walk it for a mile. Well, let me update you on my self-sufficiency since then.

I have gone several places all by myself on my bike. I went to Orem one night. Orem from Provo is uphill. Ugh. But I rode my bike all the way up to Orem and I would mention that it was dark outside but my mother will read this and get mad at me. But darnit, I was self-sufficient!

I went to a French friend's house last night in the rain. That was also a very uphill trip. I arrived, damp and very sweaty (my hostess forwent the habitual greeting cheek kisses and I didn't have to wonder why). I am learning that when a host or hostess gasps, "Can I get you something to drink" while running to the sink actually means two things: 1) I am sweaty and gross, 2) I am shamefully out of shape.

I went to the grocery store on Saturday while Perv was sleeping and I bought three full-sized pumpkins, five decorative gourds, and a pile of candy for all the guests that come to visit me (guests? What guests?). I brought them all home while riding my bike. Ha. When Perv woke up and saw the three large pumpkins, he said, "How did you do that?" I said, "On my bike!" He said, "You did not do that on your bike. There's no possible way you did that on your bike."

I went to the grocery store last Wednesday to pick up fruit for a large fruit salad. I was distracted by other things I wanted, like Chunky soup. So I only grabbed two things of Chunky soup (one must make sacrifices). As I was riding home, I heard a thunk, and looked back to see a can of Chunky soup on the sidewalk behind me. I laid down my bike, walked back and grabbed the can and put it in my purse. I inspected the bag and decided that despite the massive hole in the middle, the rest of the contents seemed sufficiently balanced on the intact sides of the bag, so I'd simply continue to ride. I rode slowly, but then realized that that meant the bag would have to hold up for a longer period of time. So I thought that I could go faster, but that meant that the bag would be subjected to more frequent and forceful bumps. Then I came across an automatic sprinkler system that was spraying the sidewalk. I couldn't avoid it since moving to the road meant a violent change in course and would put undue stress on the bag. So I went through the sprinklers. And I heard a thunk. I laid down my bike and went to grab my other can of Chunky soup, which was right in the middle of all the sprinkers. I went back into the four-square-meter monsoon and grabbed my can of Chunky soup. I returned to my bike and put the soup in my purse. I shoved the rest of the bags contents in my purse and as I did so, the automatic sprinkler system shut off.

So there you have it. Self-sufficiency. Well, Brothers 1 and 2 biked a century this weekend. That means they biked a hundred miles (actually, it was 103, which I think is cruel). They biked a hundred miles without incident.

I, on the other hand, wanted to go to the grocery store. I set out on my bike, and not three blocks away, I started to hear a hissing. "That better be a sprinkler," I thought, looking around and seeing nothing. Then I felt that my tire was completely flat. I have no idea what I even hit! But I had to turn around and walk my bike back home, unable to make a trip to the grocery store.

So much for self-sufficiency, again. Brother 2 is coming this week to help me replace the tube.