3.08.2018

Palmiers x Pavement


Learning to make palmier has been the bane of my existence and is only superseded on the torture scale by my struggle to learn to ride a bike. They always come out as hard as concrete and this last batch reminded me of the time I got into a battle with the sidewalk...and lost. 


I got my first two-wheeler for Christmas when I was 5. Now, let me preface the rest of the story with the fact that I was a :::really::: small kid and this was an 18” bike. 
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There were no training wheels + and my legs were so short that I could only pedal 1/4 revolution with one foot at a time. Still, my mother *insisted* I learn to ride it because like every black mother *anywhere* she, “Wadn’t ‘bout to waste her :::damn::: money.”
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I’d take off down the block with my mom chasing behind the bike, until she was winded mid-block, where she’s turn around and run back to meet me at the other corner. 
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#Problem
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As I mentioned before, I couldn’t keep my feet on the pedals + the only way to apply the brake was to push backward on the pedals. 
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SO......
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Here I come (after plowing into a bush). 
I’m gaining speed.
I don’t know what’s coming. 
I’ve got a major question though. 
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Me: “MOOOOM!!”
SS: “WHAT?!?”
Me: “HOW DO I STAAAAAAAaaaahhhhhhh......?!”
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#LifeHappenedFast
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Before she could answer, the front wheel started to wobble like your drunk auntie at the family barbeque. It wedged itself in the space just between the pavement and the lawn in our yard. I’m considering bailing at this point but I’m careening like I’ve got a rocket booster on my back. I can’t get back on the sidewalk....I can’t ride into the grass to slow down. 
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I ride straight into the The Beast’s™️ fence....
Continue UP the fence like a BMX racer....
Complete a full-on flip while gripping the handlebars hard enough to tear a ligament in my forearm....
....and death-drop flat onto my back into a bed of fully mature rose bushes. 
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#Dead
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THEN, the bike lands square on my chest + the neighbors all come outside because I had apparently been (subconsciously) making some strange mouth noises during the Death Race™️ and they thought I had sustained a head injury. 
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#Deader
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Meanwhile, my mom is laughing so damn hard that she can’t help me get the behemoth bike off of my puny chest + our neighbor The Newsman™️ is gearing up to tell the bystanders :::his::: version of the current events. I’m *finally* extracted from the bushes, de-thorned, and limping my way inside.....NEVER to bike-ride again. 
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#Deadest
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It took me + Sister Steele™️ a year of running back and forth on the block, crashes and scrapes, and almost castrating a high school boy walking down the street before I learned to ride a bike AND how to stop.
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I still can’t ride without holding on for dear life. 
That high school boy probably grew up to be sterile. 
My mom fell years later and broke her rib. TWICE. #Karma
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 I’ve started using puff pastry to make palmier because I don’t :::have::: to be a hero + since I managed not to break all the bones in my hands learning to ride a bike I’d rather use them for something fun like flipping the bird when my son eats my baking disasters and says, “Why did you EVER drop out of college?!

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