I just went for a leisurely ride around my neighborhood on my new bike. It totally ruled. However, there was a certain feeling of discomfort there, a certain... lack of something; a point of guilt.

On a certain level, I feel like I have betrayed Janet by buying another bike. Allow me to explain.

She and I have been through *so much* together. She was my first real bike (other than the random bike I have in my Dad's attic that I got when I was like seven years old); she was the bike on which I learned to ride city; my first real ride on her was two years ago at Lady K Ride. I still have the tiny bell from that ride tied to her handlebars.

She is the bike on which loxocele taught me how to do a complete overhaul (yay for headset races!). She's the reason I know that in '74, Schwinn was making non-standard tire sizes, so their '74 26x1 3/8 is 9mm larger than a current standard 26x1 3/8 (this is important stuff!).

I've been doored five times on her, gotten caught in in-street Green Line trolley tracks thrice, hit a pedestrian, and been sideswiped, backed-into, and thrown over the trunk of a car on her. I've changed over a dozen flats, replaced the wheels twice, done road-side by-eye wheel truing more times than I can count, and converted her from a five-speed to a single. Each and every single time I've arrived at a destination, I have thanked her (and Copilot, a blue stuffed animal manatee tied to the handlebars) verbally, out loud, regardless of who was around.

I realize how ridiculous it is to anthropomorphize an object to quite this extent, but she's special to me. She's changed my life in more ways than I can fathom, and has been more of a positive influence in my life than nearly any singular person or thing I can remember, save for (unquestionably) my aunt Diane. The second I saw Janet get wheeled into my warehouse (back when I worked receiving at Boomerangs) I fell in love; she made me *want* to better myself, to do something other than sit around all the time. She was the impetus I needed to begin learning how to better my health, my drive, my outlook on life, my dedication to a task at hand; it goes on.

I guess it just feels somehow wrong that I was out having fun on a new, unknown, unnamed Stranger Bike (not even a chopper!) while Janet was locked, alone (Copilot is in my bag), to a sign post in Allston. *sigh*

I think about things too much.