I've got this thing on the side of my forehead, like a pimple. I've never had a pimple there before. Strange. Also strange, I bit my lower lip yesterday while eating dinner, and I've already bit it twice tonight. Since I had to hold my lip back to prevent myself from biting it again, I couldn't truly relish my Carl's Junior Famous Star burger. I feel that in terms of suckiness, biting one's own cheek, tongue, or lip is akin to jamming your toe, hitting your funny bone, or knocking your shin-that is, all of these things suck a hella lot, even when you don't have scrumptious fast food you're trying to eat.

I now have a cute lil' pocket dictionary taking up 3x5 inches of desk space as opposed to a fatty dictionary hogging like 8X11 massive inches. I'm very pleased with my mini dictionary, even if the definition of the first word I looked up was so consice it was only one word. [side note: That's weird. I just picked up my pocket dictionary and attempted to let it fall open naturally in the hope that it would open to the page that held the first word I looked up. See, I forgot the word and really wanted to be able to share it with you. Instead of revealing the page and word I had previously looked up, the dictionary fell open to a page with the word "josh" and its definition "tease or joke". Its the first word I saw. And what's really weird is...that's my name! I think my dictionary is trying to talk to me! How awesome. This has never happened to me before. I think my dictionary likes me. Oh, and another weird thing is that the definition of the word "josh" is actually what I'm doing right now. What are the odds?]

At work today I had a customer walk in and ask for help ordering a triple. For the first few minutes of our interaction I thought he was talking about a 3-ringed crankset. Then I realized that he was talking about a bicycle made for three people. The customer, John, was hoping to take trip around Canada and the U.S. with his two hyperactive boys. John needed help determining which size of Triplet he and his kids needed. So, I spent over an hour measuring John and his kids, talking to Santana (the company that makes the Triplet), analyzing data and sketches, and discussing exactly how the whole thing was going to work for his 5 and 7 year old boys. In the end, we decided on a custom frame that was medium sized in the front and small in the back-a size that, due to our analysis, was smaller than what the folks at Santana had originally recommended to John over the phone. First thing tomorrow morning I will place an order for the $6000 Santana Triplet. Apparantly, I handled the pressure of such a complicated project well, because Randy felt compelled to tell me good job, and he did so.

By the way, I hate the words "went" and "got". More and more, I find myself carefully selecting different words when I'm tempted to use those.

I rode my bike up Rocky Canyon Road this evening in spite of possible rain showers and a darkening sky. I felt good. I made a point to sit as much as possible and save my standing power for the last couple miles of much steeper terrain. When I reached that stretch, I couldn't really stand up without loosing traction on wet, loose gravel. In the last mile I had to ride over snow before dismounting and hiking a hundred meters to the top. On my way down I passed a Jeep that was spinning out in an attempt to climb what I had just cleared on my bike.

Bedtime. I'd like to get up tomorrow early enough to spend a solid hour reading at the Flying M before I have to head to work. Goodnight.