Ninety percent of the trouble I've gotten into in my life has been from talking. (The other 10 percent, probably from not talking.)
So there I was, whizzing along the lakefront when something terribly important came to mind and, as I was saying it, looking back over my shoulder, for some reason I grabbed the front brake, causing a cascade of problems that happened a little too fast to recall exactly. But I ended up on the concrete with the bike in two pieces and what would become a giant purple bruise on my thigh. Not a huge disaster -- the other piece was just the front reflector snapped off (possibly by the thigh). So Wheely's got its first ding. At least that's out of the way.
I've been spending so much time tooling around outside (it's so fun, like when you were a kid and you were outside for 8, 10, 12 hours and had to be called in to dinner). I was at my agent's the other day and one of them came out and said, "Wow, you're tan!" Which is a little embarrassing. I feel like having a tan carries a hint of shallowness to it, or it implies that you're not working very hard.
Most actors are pretty pale, not being outdoorsy types. Also I heard somewhere that you're more versatile when you're unsunned. If you're in a play or film and it's supposed to be winter time and you're all tan, it doesn't quite work. I gotta find some triple-digit SPF somewhere.