A-musing(s)?

Apparently I'm very juvenile. I thought that I should bring some levity to this next post, perhaps by making some dorky joke about a bike-related musing of mine, and how, in my case it is clearly disconnected from the word "muse" as a noun (versus a verb). So now I've just proven that I'm a nerd, but let me tell you about my juvenile nature.

I was using an online dictionary to prove the above, dorky points, when I got distracted by the online dictionary's "near words" feature. The online dictionary indicated that the seven or so nearest words started with "musculous sphincter" and had a third word to further modify this term. Who wouldn't be curious about musculous sphincter ani as opposed to musculous sphincter pylori, for example?

I am sure I laughed like Beavis and/or Butthead when clicking on the hyperlinks provided (for you youths, Beavis and Butthead were cartoon characters of the 1990s; check out the one when they hallucinate about Star Trek). What mysteries were revealed, you ask? I have no idea. Each link, when clicked, led to a page indicating that the term did not exist. If that's the case, why are there hyperlinks? It's all very circular. And we went down this rabbit hole all because I wanted to keep this fresh for y'all/ya'll.

I hope to have some photos posted here from tomorrow's 4th of July ride. In the meantime, let me share two thoughts.

First, you're great for supporting me on these rides. As I mentioned before, it is quite humbling. If you think anyone would be compelled to donate just $10 to the MS Society due to being inspired by Travis' and my decisions to do this second, longer ride this year, please share this link: http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/SCS-TRAM2013. Thanks, Kim S., for getting the ball rolling! 

Second, I think I passed a biking milestone today. About 1/3 of the time I enter my neighborhood bike shop, the mechanics look at my bike and remember it and my most common problem. "Derailleur again?" (Pardon me if it is supposed to be u before e.) Today, I entered without my bike and caught the attention of the nicest bike helper guy (he is a mechanic, but is also super helpful). I said, "I'm here to buy a tube." His reply? "For your Giant?" (That's the type of bike I have.) "Yep." "Okay, Maggie, that will be $6.37." Woo hoo! My name.

We talked about a concern I have about my bike, and then I told him I appreciated that he took the time to remember my bike and my name, but that I was worried that this must mean I'm there too often. In his nice hipster salesman way, he told me I'm a frequent customer, but not a jerk. He tries never to remember the names of the jerks, just the nice people. I thought that was a good philosophy about priorities.

And, well, to top it off, I feel as though I have some bike cred. Or at least bike repair cred.

(For the record, I'm ok with most of Beavis and Butthead humor, but have a problem with one thing: they'd say something is "gay." Big pet peeve of mine. Carry on.)