As we were pulling up to a light this morning, an old Buick pulled up beside Mike and I on our bikes and the window rolled down. Inside was a rough looking woman in her mid-twenties. Long bleached hair hung limp and frizzy down past her shoulders and spread crispily on the seat behind her. In the back seat was a gym back and a baby seat, complete with baby.

"Excuse me, can you tell me where Graterford Street is?" She leaned across the passenger seat as we rolled our bikes to a stop at the red traffic light. Mike looked at me and wondered out loud, "the prison, you mean?"

She wasn't from around here, as her Jersey plates would attest. "Turn right at the light, follow route 29 north about twenty miles. It's a long drive from here." I offered back through the passenger window.

"Route 29? Where's that?" she looked at me confused.

"You're on it. Turn right at the light. That's route 29 north." Her face went blank as I spoke. We clipped back into our pedals and rode on. Any further help was hopeless.

Two miles down the road, we spied a cat busy in the weeds along the shoulder of the road. "Cat!" I shouted as I pulled far to the left of Mike, who was in the lead as we sped down the hill.

The cat bolted left, straight for Mike, then back right, then straight back towards him, missing his rear tire by inches. Unfortunately, this also put the cat directly in my path. As we sped past, the cat bolted straight beneath my bike. I held my line, let out a few expletives, and looked back after the impact to see the cat bolting for the bushes. I figure there's a cat out there with a big bald spot on its back tonight.

Our ride completed, we returned home to find Mike's car alarm blaring for no reason whatsoever. According to the neighbors, it had been going off every thirty minutes for the past few hours.

One of our neighbors boyfriends has a car with the remote start option. You know, push a button on your keychain and make the car start. After Mike left with his beeping car, he parked a few spots back from where Mike was parked. While Michelle and I were out front weeding, his car kept starting everytime a car would drive past. It happened at least four times while we were out there.

I've heard of Freaky Friday, but this was my first Strange Sunday.