I just finished my last critique for my summer class and am very excited. I have until September 10 before fall term starts up, and I will be working a lot, at both the restaurant and the gallery, but at least there is no more waking up for the 8am class! Yay, an entire month and a half to work on the new house and organize things and rejuvinate. I think I may go get a pedicure today to kick (lame pun for Jennie) things off.

But last night! O, the annoyance. So, do you remember when I lived in that group house when I first moved to Savannah, and one afternoon I had my pawn shop bike locked to a wooden rung on the house’s front porch, and somebody came by with probably a sledgehammer and whacked the wooden rungs to try and break them and steal my bike? And then, just about six months ago, when I was living in that apartment building and the same pawn shop bike actually DID get stolen, from the interior hallway just outside of my apartment door? Well, check this shit out. Things DO happen in threes.

Last night some kids (apparently little kids, like age 10!) from the neighborhood came by and cut the cord of my newer pawn shop bike and our unit neighbor’s bikes, which we were temporarily keeping hitched to a column on the porch! (Yes, I know this was dumb, especially given my past experience with bikes in this town, but both she and I live on the second floor and carrying a bike up all those stairs is work.) E and I were out, and we got a phone call from this neighbor telling us that her dog had started barking (wondermutt!) so she opened her front door and scared off the kids, who had my bike in hand and were in the process of taking hers as well.

She called the police, but then she went to the next-door house, which is huge and has people sitting on the front porch, like, 24/7, to ask them if they had seen anything. The kids there said that it was kids from the street behind ours, and that they knew them. THEN, our next-door kids went back in the alley, found my bike just sitting there, and brought it back to her. Amazing! So when I got her first voicemail saying my bike had been taken, I rushed home without listening to her second message, saying she had my bike back. It was a crazy zigzag of emotions to come home thinking I had lost ANOTHER bike, talk to the neighbor for a bit and get the whole insane story, and finally learn that my bike was safe after all, just with a cut cord.

So now my bike is safely inside the house, up alllll those stairs. What is wrong with the children of Savannah??? It’s like a city of little nihilists. I am so disappointed. I mean, obviously thrilled that I still have my bike, but am I going to be riding down the street and get held up at gunpoint for it? It’s a stupid cheap bike; I don’t see why people have to act like complete animals over it.