A day of folly

The morning started with Rocky III, the one with Mr. T. And then I got a bike from the owner of the hostal. Only a few minutes into my ride, I realized that the seat didn't work. Fine. It was there, which is certainly preferable to the alternative. But it moved at its own will. So climbing a hill, it rotates all the way back and all of a sudden I'm big pimpin'. Don't get me wrong, I like looking cool when riding a bike but today, really, I just wanted to ride. And it was simply unmanageable. So I hit the beach thinking that sea level might serve me better and got hassled by a beach mutt the majority of the ride. I know we all just need a friend from time to time but his ear was bloody and he stank. Bad. Then a kid crossing the street grabbed me unexpectedly while on the bike. What is that about?!? He yelled, ¨Cuidado en una bici!¨ aka be careful on a bike. Punk. Apparently, it's still alive and kickin in Chile. The New York in me wanted to circle back and punch him, but I didn't. Maybe if the seat frickin' worked! AH!

Then, I went for a haircut. The last one I had was in Bogotá, in March maybe? Or April? I just love beauty salons. It's so fun to watch all of us ladies get all dolled up. We walk in zombies and leave princesses. And thanks to the good Lord, there was no folly there. Matter of fact, God bless beauty salons. And women who know how to wash hair. My Perúvian hairstylist hooked me up. Sweet. Have I mentioned that I love Perú?