More doping scandals are marring the Tour de France.  The man in the yellow jersey was sent home disgraced (for lying, not for doping, though he probably lied to cover up doping).  Three entire teams have pulled out and gone home.  The field of riders has been whittled down from 189 riders to 135.

It sounds really bad, but in fact it's good. Cycling has been riddled with drugs for decades. The Tour directors and the team leaders have finally adopted a zero tolerance toward doping.  The jerks who continue to cheat are getting caught and banned from cycling, some forever.

I feel really bad for the clean riders, because at this point everyone is under suspicion.  I love the young Spaniard who's now in first place.  Twenty-four years old, his first tour.  But is he clean?  Who the hell knows anymore?

Mostly today I polished the pages I'll take to my critique group tomorrow.  I got my nails done, and Rob took me out to the Veracruz Cafe for the BEST fish tacos.  Okay, I am officially obsessed with fish tacos and every time I have them they are the best I've ever had.  But I do love this restaurant.  Rob, poor thing, doesn't understand my love for fine dining.  He would frankly be just as happy with a Whopper.  I think perhaps he was like that poor man in the Quizno's commercial, born with no taste buds.

Until tomorrow,

Kara

P.S. Yes I forgot to blog yesterday.  I wrote a blog for Romancing the Blog, which will appear Saturday, and I wrote my post for the You-Can-Do-It Blog, and then a post for the Harlequin American Blog which will appear Sunday, and I was just all blogged out!