Ok, so as I mentioned in my previous post, I’m either en route to Block Island, or already there doing things like eating ice cream, begging Jordan to rub my shoulders in the hotel room whilst catching up on some Kardashians (what? I don’t watch that, yes I do), slurping down a mudslide, or like, playing cards, idunno.

But, what I really wanted to tell you was a little story about Block Island circa 1995. I think?

Let me make this short so I can get to the meat of the story… My Brother was a boy scout. They went on trips often. One of these trips was Block Island and my family went with them, along with a handful of other families. It was random & fun. Ok here we are.. So everyone would ride bikes, everywhere..

I have to tell you a secret first. I SUCK at riding a bike.. Like, you probably didn’t know someone could be so bad at riding a bike. (I’m pointing to myself at this moment). I just don’t know what it is, but it’s scary and sad and funny and awful all rolled into one.

Ok back to the story where everyone rides bikes everywhere… The entire boy scouts crew along with my family, and yours truly, were riding along a straight, wide road… No big deal. We were in a pack. I may or may not have been trying to show off when I lifted my hands off of the handlebars. “Ohh yeah look at me” .. I probably said something stupid like that.. when suddenly my front wheel started wiggling like crazy until it got to the point where I was swerving ALL over the road and totally. wiped. out. When I get hurt or fall my immediate reaction is to cry, which sucks. So I was on the ground. in a helmet. crying. in front of all the older boy scouts. ugh. Does it get worse than crying in a helmet? Yeah. I didn’t think so. Ok gotta go pack!!