Someone Please End This Misery.
Three years ago after we lost everything in that mean 'ol hurricane, I got a new ipod for Christmas. It was a white mini, and oh how I loved it. At the time we were also without a computer; so my ever so kind husband told me he was going to buy me a new one. I only had one condition, that it be white and shiny, to match my ipod. And that, dear readers, is how Jillian ended up with a Mac. Which she would grab first in a fire, probably over her dog, or rabbit.
You see, I am not "function conscious", I'm all about form, or looks. I'm SORRY already! I can't help it. It is a detrimental flaw that plagues me every day and prevents me from leaving the house without trying on at least half of my clothes. I like to blame my father. Not only because blaming everything on your parents is incredibly liberating, but also because he is intrinsically the same way. He's an artist, and you might mistake him for gay if he weren't so married to my mother. He is often referred to as the gayest straight man anyone knows, because he has an impeccable eye for design and style and to a lesser extent because he likes to reminisce about the "days of disco". And I am the one he asks when he wants to know if this shirt goes with these pants. We are two peas in a pod.
Am I patting myself on the back? No, it is a curse I tell you! If it weren't for this blasted affliction of style matching, I would have a child seat for my bike by now and I would be quite happy with it too I'm sure. But no, my neuroses prevents me from settling on anything that is readily available to me in the states.
I have found a seat that largely matches my basket liner and is printed in feminine colors, but finding one that I can buy without selling a kidney is proving to be a hard thing to do. Why America must you make it so difficult to be safe and fashionable? Why, oh Netherlands, must you refuse to sell your lovely child seats to anyone in America. Why oh Internet, if you hold in your bowels a place where I can find a bobike seat, are you hiding it from me? Is it because of that lie I told about Lenny Kravitz that one time in New Orleans? If so, I'm sorry.
I will not stop this search until I have found what I am searching for, and that is a Bobike Maxi + seat in Fiori Blue. Because not only do I possess an annoying urge to style coordinate everything, but my determination matches that of a pitt bull in a tug of war contest. But, for the love of all that is sweet and covered in sugar, If you know where I can find this seat, tell me. I will bear a child for you and pay for it's college education.
On a side note: We are going to New Orleans tomorrow to ride bikes and take photos, so please stay tuned for some shots of the funky and stylish cyclists of the big easy.