So John has complained about my “boring motorcycle stories.”
And just for him, I wanted to write something really emo, because I know he loves that shit.
And I thought all week about how to tell the story of why I was so down recently, and that someone I felt was a good friend had treated me like fucking dirt, and how that really freaked me out. How I hadn’t been treated like dirt in ten years, and how it did a number on my head, only because I thought this person was a good friend, a stand-up guy, someone who might be on the same page as me, in terms of how you treat friends.
I imagined making this journal entry terribly emo, just for John. It would be a magnificent piece of self-actualization, followed perhaps by a sense of closure or maybe even an apology. My life would be exponentially better for getting this off my chest, and opening up to the people around me.
But after a few days of trying to figure out how that should go, I’ve given up. Sorry, John, but it’s true all I really care about is motorcycles. And drinking.
I’ve been out at the bar every night this week, and what fun I’ve been having... Sometimes I think I'm getting old and boring; I'm glad I got to hang out and bench race over pints all week. Every night I get a little faster, the mud pit gets deeper, my crashes a little more spectacular. No one seems to tire of the "no, you got schooled by a GIRL on a 400" punchline.
Last night I met up with some people for that Thursday night ride thing, which was not much of a ride. Boo. Squids, blech.
Tonight there’s a possible trip over Mt. Hamilton in the dark, which sounds just incredible. I love Mt. Hamilton, and I’ve always been a little intrigued by the idea of a night ride to the observatory. I hear there will be no moon, so it should be very dark, very still. Maybe I’ll pick up the other bike at the end.
Saturday and Sunday, I’m toying with heading North. I have a freeway bike now. I really want to go to Portland one of these days, and Seattle.
My chiro says I should wait a few weeks, and see if I need to come back at all. I'm hoping for "no," and closing all that up in the next couple of weeks. I want to start getting in the dirt again. I also really need the money to pay off the medical bills. crap.
Now seeking other two-wheeled fruitcakes who think riding several hours for the perfect cup of coffee or slice of pie is a perfectly reasonable idea. You're out there somewhere...