I'm back, babies!

And ready for action! Bermuda is lovely, even if everything does smell vaguely of decay. Oddly, decay smells a lot like cat pee.

We rented mopeds for three days and C could barely get me off mine. A garbage truck nearly got him off his, though.

We were cruising through a tiny little lane - Wreck Road, if you can believe it - and around a blind curve came an enormous flat-faced white truck. Right where C was about to go.

It looked like he was going to slide right under the wheels, but he swerved, missing the truck by inches. Had the truck been there one second earlier, Bill would be dead or at the very least, in the hospital. Or possibly still wedged under the truck.

The three people in the cab - all of them with their mouths wide open, horrified - started yelling something, but by that point he was already past them. I was behind him, and as I passed the truck, the woman in the passenger side leaned out and caught me, her hand shaking.

"Tell him he did really well!" She said. "We thought he was dead! We're so glad he's OK!" They all nodded and for a second there we were, four people who'd seen disaster averted: wide-eyed and shaky and grateful.

I found C waiting for me down the road, shaken but ready to laugh about it. "I was sure I was going under, and then I was sure I was all right," he said. Then he paused. "Did I cause that?"

"Christ no!" I said. Then I left lipstick all over his face. (I scoot in style.)

And now I'm late for work and have to run. Stay tuned for more updates... including The Wedding That Almost Wasn't.