Anti-ass: 2. Arley: 0.
When we last met our intrepid hero, she was pondering whether or not to buy a hemorrhoid cushion to soothe her anti-ass, which had been worn raw from riding on the exercise bike (yes, the excitement of this blog never ceases). Not wanting to be seen purchasing said hemorrhoid cushion anywhere in the greater New Westminster area lest I run into someone I went to high school with, I decided to improvise. I therefore spent my Friday night fashioning a hemorrhoid cushion out of my exercise donut (a rolled-up handtowel covered in a sock that they give you in the hospital to put your ankle on while you're doing exercises) and watching re-runs of "What Not to Wear." The fact that this "donut" is roughly three inches in diameter, covered in a slippery sock and nowhere near the size of the surface area I needed to cover did not deter me in the slightest.
Getting on an exercise-bike after a hip replacement is no easy feat in itself. You have to swing your good leg over the bike and on to the pedal, then try to pedal backwards with one leg to get the opposing pedal in the right position to raise your bad leg on to it, which is no small feat in itself because lifting the bad leg is hard when your hip flexors don't "work" so much as "twitch pathetically in some semblance of movement."
The delicate bike-mounting dance is made all the more difficult when you throw a handtowel covered in a sock into the mix. I, however, was undaunted. I swung my leg over the bike, pedaled backwards, somehow managed to hook my bad leg on to the pedal and sat on the little handtowel donut. Which promptly slipped out from under me. Which promptly launched me forward and tilted the exercise bike into a vertical position, causing me to crash into a nearby dresser. When the smoke cleared, I was straddling the exercise bike as if doing a wheelie and clinging for dear life to the corner of the dresser. Happily, my hip did not dislocate from this little adventure, but I managed to scrape various limbs.
Back to the drawing board.